Ten years today, Mammy… and somehow I still reach for you like you just stepped into the next room.
I was blessed enough to call you Mammy... because you filled both roles so completely, so beautifully, so fiercely. You weren’t just a presence in my life; you were the foundation, the warmth, the steady heartbeat of home.
I keep you close in all the little ways that still matter:
• I still write with your pens.
• I wear your scarves and brooches.
• I breathe in your Mary Kay hand cream and the soft, elegant whisper of your Chanel No. 5, a scent that brings you back in an instant.
• I drink from your coffee cup on the days that are so special to me.
And now, seeing your great-granddaughter use your very own perm rods in cosmetology school… that’s when I feel your smile the biggest. Your hand-me-downs are still shaping the women in this family. Legacy isn’t written in stone... it’s worn, used, loved, remembered.
We still bake your homemade bread and your apple pie.
And every time, without fail, I whisper a thank-you for that precious video I made of you teaching me. It feels like I get to cook beside you all over again.
You visit me often, still do, in the quiet moments, the dreams, the nudges that only a Mammy could give. Your love didn’t leave. It just changed rooms.
Your roses still grow, each year without fail. Always adding warmth and love to our home each spring and summer.
And I will never forget that in your very last days here, you made me promise I would marry the man who is now my husband. You adored him right from the start… and once again, you were right.
You were my everything.
You still are.
Thank you for raising me, loving me, shaping me, and staying with me in all the ways that matter.
Here’s to ten years without you... and a lifetime still filled with you.
I love you, Mammy. Always.