A Daughter's Love Story

Today is my mom’s yahrzeit. To honor the day, I decorated the sideboard with the ceramic urn that our friend Robert made for her ashes, her favorite flower, an orchid, shale rocks from Ireland carved with symbols for love and happiness, her photo, and a memorial candle.

As dad and I lit the candle this morning, I shared that I couldn’t believe it’s been nine years and that I didn’t feel like crying. He corrected me and said that since she suffered from Alzheimer’s, she’s been gone longer than that and perhaps the pain of her loss has finally diminished and that’s why I didn’t have any tears.

I gave him a hug and told him that I was going to be late to work because I wanted to stop by an estate sale that was being hosted by Amy, one of my customers. On her company Instagram account, Handled Estate Sales, she had promoted flatware that came from mom’s store when she had it on Robertson in the early ‘90s. We have the same set by Bissel and Wilhite in our home. I wondered if there were any other treasures from mom’s shop that I would discover at the sale.

I always feel connected to my mom when a customer tells me that they still have something that my mom curated. I had intended to get to the estate sale when it opened at 10 but I somehow couldn’t manage to get there until noon. As I meandered around the house, I realized that I was too late and the things I was hoping to see had already sold.

As I was walking towards the door to leave, I spied a brass memorial candle holder. It reminded me of my mom’s Passover Judaica items. I held it and considered buying it. I put it back thinking that the last thing a girl with a giftshop needs is another tchotchke and walked away. I texted a photo of it to my boyfriend who insisted that I buy it. I went back to get it, but it was gone.

I guessed it wasn’t meant to be. So, I took another lap around the living room and looked at the same LACMA exhibit catalogs that my mom had in her bookcase. I appreciated that the late owner of the house loved art like my mom did but the emptiness of the home and the treasured items being picked over just made me feel sad.

I felt an urgent need to leave and made my way to the front door where Amy was ringing up a sale. When she finished, she introduced me to her client, who was wearing a sweatsuit adorned with yellow lightning bolts, which is the symbol of love that I share with my boyfriend. (He will tell you that when he saw me for the first time he was struck by lightning.)

Amy told the client that I own a great shop on Canon Dr. in Beverly Hills. The customer said, “I love your store!” We reintroduced ourselves and I thanked Liz for being a fan and that I loved her outfit.

Then I spied the memorial candle holder in her hand. “Today is my mom’s yahrzeit and I thought about buying that.”

Liz immediately handed it to me and insisted that I keep it.

I started to cry.

I went to the estate sale to feel connected to my mom and through the random act of kindness from a stranger, I had found it.

As I drove off, I thought about time. I wasn’t too late to the sale. I was there at exactly the moment I was meant to connect with Liz. It reminded me to trust that the universe will always give me what I need, especially when it isn’t on my timeline.