January 2023
I lead everyone upstairs to the room that used to be my mom’s. It’s a sitting room now, done in shades of champagne pink, with a green and pink floral patterned throw rug, photos hanging on all of the walls, plants, and a few stuffed animals. The door opens, and Big Sis runs in, smiles widely with eyes even wider, “I love this! And this! And this…” she exclaims as she touches the pink office chairs, the pink chaise, and engulfs my large stuffed, Hello Kitty. She struggles to contain it in the cradle of her left arm. She then picks up my smaller stuffed alpaca and shoves it under her other arm.
She remains transfixed by the room’s contents.
A discussion erupts about Aunt Amy’s “slight obsession” with Hello Kitty (it didn’t help I wore a Hello Kitty shirt that day) and Big Sis – now deftly carrying a stuffed animal under each arm – eagerly searches to find each Hello Kitty object in the room, as if playing “Where’s Waldo?”
“There are more downstairs,” I grin.
Later, after we pry Big Sis from the room, we return to the living room, where we continue to chat. Lil Sis notices my battery-powered window candles, and that they are uniquely adorned.
She is petite, she’s barely grown in the three years since I’ve seen her, so she looks up at me, sideways, judgmental even, speaking out of the side of her mouth like some kind of child gangster, with a heavy Valley Girl accent, “There are googly eyes on your candles,” she says with emphasis, as if each word were a complete sentence.
I saw a slight eye roll.
I beamed and said, “Yes!” She slowly shook her head. I continued: “Well, they were wearing sweaters, but I took those off after Christmas.” I looked to her for a response. She stared up at me, dumbfounded. “Sweaters? Oh my gosh.” Full eye roll commenced.
I hid a smirk.
I reflect now on the details of our visit. All three kids have different interactions with me, and much of that is based on how much they remember me. Lil Bro likely remembers little of me and no personal recollection of my mother, the latter of which saddens me a bit. Lil Sis has a memory of me, but it is likely limited, as is her memory of my mother. Big Sis remembers all, and runs to greet me with a huge smile. I think she remembers my mom, and that makes my heart swell. That there is a photo hanging in their home of my mom and me, each of us holding one girl (Lil Sis on Mom’s lap, Big Sis on mine), surprises and touches me. Oh, how my mother would be delighted.
Nearing the end of their visit, I feel my mother’s joy as I relay to the group that no one wants my mom’s piano, and I am having a hard time finding a new home for it. Big Sis’s mom and dad both say they will take it, as Big Sis wants to learn. I could almost hear my piano-teaching mother’s excitement, and I felt gratitude for an old tradition now wrapped in a new chapter.
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“It's Amy,” I said. 