She picked me up at the airport yesterday. Out of complete love and respect for my mother, she drove us straight to the Mall of America. She knew her well. Because we shared our friends. My friends loved my mother. And they loved her. I love my mom’s friends, and if I may be so bold (and I think love should be), I think they love me too. I can feel it.

My mom always bought this friend a pair of gloves for Christmas. We all wore them – wear them – these gloves. I like to call them our “Ava Gardners.” We know that true emotion — love, empathy, joy, astonishment, gratitude — are all best expressed with a gloved hand to the heart. So yesterday, this dear friend, took us straight to the glove department of Nordstrom and bought us each a new pair. We laughed and cried, and expressed it all, channeling the elegance of our loveliest shared friend, our most elegant leader, my mother.

For she is the best of us, my mom. She is the hearts on our sleeves. Our lip-lined smiles. Our hands to our hearts. Our hands reaching out. Let me, us, forever make her proud.