Three years ago today, my mom died after a long battle with cancer. She was 67. Too young.

Unlike the others, this anniversary has not felt muffled and dark. Instead, it’s been filled with hanging out with my children and much laughter. It’s been a bright day.

Mom died on a Tuesday, and her funeral was on the following Friday. I wrote and read the eulogy (here:, then after the reception, we headed over to The Modbo’s annual Small Works Show, because my daughter had art in this juried show.

It was crowded and hot. I mostly recall the colors and feel of down coats and faux fur. We smiled and took a photo of my daughter next to her art. And then my ex took her and the boys home with him.

And I stayed. I was exhausted. But I was home. I was with my community. And many friends knew I’d come from Mom’s funeral. So I sat on a stool in a corner and drank a glass of wine and watched all the people amidst all the art and soaked in love and friendship. So much more trauma followed in the days after that night. But it was a rest, a respite in the middle of it that helped me weather the storms.

Thank you for being part of my return to life. It’s taken three long years, but I think I really can say I’m truly, finally on the upswing. Tonight, my daughter had four pieces in this year’s Small Works Show. I told a friend how important that night three years ago was for me, and she recalled it as the night “crystal snow” fell. “Magic!” Tonight was a magical night, too. Though it was short for me as I go to bed early to kick a cold, it was full of laughter, family, and seeing longtime and new friends…and, of course, great art. Some photos of tonight follow. It was the first of many more, I hope and know. Thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyou.

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