Today at the tea room, I was straightening up the countertop and came across a recipe scribbled on a notepad. I had to stop and do a double take and wonder when my mother had written out the recipe. Turns out the handwriting belongs to my sister.
Her penmanship, while lamentable and illegible, looks so much like my late mother's. And then to add to that, the recipe was on a notepad decorated with roses. My mother always used stationery with roses on it.
For a split second, my heart hurt. And then I smiled because my mother managed to pass down a little bit of herself through her daughter. It was a nice thought.
