When the ball dropped on 2025, I knew change was in the air - I just felt that chapters were closing and new ones were beginning. After all, 2024 had brought surprisingly unexpected shifts in my life. And, this past week has been one of even greater reflection than previous times, namely because the last woman who shaped my life left this world. I can't say that it was unexpected, my Aunt Louise who was also my godmother had been in failing health for some time, but like my mom, the longer I had her around, the greedier I got. And, although I hadn't seen her regularly over the past few years, there were the cards, the occasional text message and the amazing photo frame where I could upload and view pictures of what was going on in her life. Since my mom passed away, my godmother had become a great - grandmother and I couldn't have been happier.

The last time I saw her was at her granddaughter's wedding- the same girl who was barely a year old when I left for San Francisco. My aunt sat with me, took my arm and told me how proud my mother was of me.

"She loved you so much, I know you know that," she said at the breakfast table. "She was so proud, she loves you still." Her grip on my arm was surprisingly strong for almost - at the time 90 - and as tears filled my eyes, she gave me a hug and I kissed her cheek. Did I know it was the last time I would see her? Who can tell? But I held onto that moment with every fiber of my being. This was a woman, who my mom told me was so excited to christen me.

"I've never seen anyone so happy," my mom told me on one of our European trips. "She kept thanking me over and over. You'd think I had just given her a million dollars!"

I know my mom and my aunt had a special bond - after all, they both married Tella men, and that alone should have won them accolades. The strength of my aunt and uncle's marriage was so inspirational to me, even more so than my own parents'. I could see the love emanating from my uncle/godfather when he looked at his wife.  At his granddaughter's wedding, when they were introduced, he grabbed my aunt's hand, raised it high in the air and smiled so bright that it outshone the photographer's flash. That image of them will never leave my memory. It inspires me in my own marriage.

When I was a kid, I would go over to their house and don't ask me why, but I would wash her dishes. I loved washing dishes. That makes no sense but there you have it. Now, I put them in the appliance that was made to do that but back then, maybe it was just the opportunity to spend time at her house. There were countless parties, holidays, birthdays, and brunches. And whenever she told us to stop over for coffee, it was never JUST coffee. There was a spread that would put an Italian restaurant to shame. We would all talk for hours. There was always laughter, always joy. It was never a home filled with tears, it was always filled with joy. And, for that I will be eternally grateful.

Yet, as I write this, I can feel my past slipping away. The people - the women - who connected me to my childhood, who taught me how to bake, to love and to be a good human were gone. I came home from work the day my godmother passed and I hugged my husband and ugly cried. When I was finished, I sat and thought some more. How these women -- my Great Aunt Lil, passing at 94, my mom, leaving me at 86 and now my godmother at 92 all lived incredible lives. How could I ask for me? Yes, I was greedy, I was envious that my cousins had their grandmother with them all those years, where I lost one when I was 8 and never knew my other who I searched and searched for and didn't discover pictures and stories of her until after my mom passed away - unable to share them with her. How could I be angry at the world for allowing these women to be in my life for so long? I just wanted....well...more.

Today, I have a new chapter - a whole new life unfolding and I am taking the lessons of these women with me along the journey. I see them in everything I do. I can hear their laughter. I can feel their touch. I can breathe in and still smell their particular scents. In fact, I keep a bottle of my mom's White Diamonds body lotion by my bed. Sometimes, I undo the cap and take in the wonderful scent that reminds me of her. It wraps me up in her embrace and then I am able to sleep.

I happily steal a note from a great friend of mine that my mom met when we were in Paris. He sent me this on the anniversary of my mom's passing.

I remember those days so well...first they are and now they were. Glad we lived them...and keep them forever in our hearts.

And like my godmother told me about my mom. I hope my Aunt Louise knows how much I loved her. How much I will always love her. My journey now is because in part of what she gave to me. There would be no Limontella without her. And if I were able to react back in 1965, I would have been just as happy to be chosen as her godson.