Come Back Friends

Today brings a double dose of reflection. It's Yom Kippur. It's my mother's yahrzeit. She died 16 years ago. I can replay that day as though it were yesterday. But I'd rather not. I'd rather celebrate the 42 years I got to spend with her. That's what she'd want me to do. So today I'll light a candle in her honor. I'll sit in temple. I'll say kaddish. I'll remember the joy and the laughter, the heartfelt chats and the loving advice, the beauty salon visits, and above all, the shopping excursions. Those trips to Saks Fifth Avenue and Bullock's, Robinson's and Orbach's were enlightening and at times challenging. She wanted me to step out of my comfort zone. I wanted to stay put. Before we'd leave the house, my dad made us promise to "come back friends." And we always did. Today I'll wear something nice on her behalf. I'll keep the tears at bay. At least that's the plan. I can't make any promises.