When my stepmom destroyed my late mother’s precious crystal set just weeks before my wedding, I thought my heart would never heal. She stood there with that smug smile, thinking she’d finally erased Mom’s memory from my life. She had no idea what was coming.
My name is Jennifer. I’m 25, and I lost my mom, Alice, when I was 16. The pain still cuts deep nine years later. She was an epitome of softness and grace. She was my best friend. The one who always smelled like lavender and cinnamon rolls. She was my everything.
Every Sunday, Mom would carefully lift each glass from the cabinet. She’d polish them until they caught the light like diamonds. Then she’d tell me stories about the day she bought them in downtown Grove Wood.
Continue reading…
