Yesterday we laid my mom to rest in the family plot in a country cemetery. We sat in the shade in the morning heat with our backs to a vineyard. Horses grazed just across the fence, bringing back memories of the many times my parents pulled to the side of the road beside a pasture so their daughters could hop out of the car and pet the noses of friendly horses.
On Sunday, we drove past the block that used to hold my dad’s menswear store, the one I wrote about in this article. I only caught a glimpse of the building, which was renovated along with many others after the 2003 earthquake. The downtown area looks trendy now, with wine-tasting rooms and antique shops everywhere, but overall the town hasn’t changed much since I was a kid. It’s always good to come home.
My mom is really home now. I miss her, but I’m glad she’s where she wanted to be.
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