Alice found this card from my mom when she cleaned Margaret’s room, and like most things related to my mom, it broke my heart and made me smile. This handwriting is what really struck me though – I know those neat, precise loops by heart. Part of why I know it so well is that in seventh grade I perfected her handwriting, or her signature anyway, for a wide variety of practical uses (detention slips, progress reports, etc). I might have had a fabulous life of crime had I not also obsessively documented my every move on my wall calendar, prompting my mom to wonder how I could have detention without her knowing. Clearly, I’m not smart enough to pull off a heist of any magnitude. My mom could be such a cool customer when she busted you. I don’t remember exactly how this one went down, but I suspect it was a well laid trap. A few casual questions that quickly backed me into a corner and once I saw the trap for what it was it was way too late. Sometimes that knowing look in her eye, the one that said “there is no way you can dig out of this but I’m enjoying watching you try,” was worse than the actual punishment. I took a lot of inspiration of how to parent from my mom – but I don’t think I have ever reached her level of style and finesse.

It’s been seven years today and I’m missing her so much, just like most days. We did not get enough strange and wonderful years. I just don’t think I will ever get used to this.