Life is what you celebrate. All of it. Even its end. —Joanne Harris
My mother, Linda Lee, would have loved everything about high tea at ONE65 in San Francisco: the elegance, the food, the service, the vibrant city location.
Vivacious and endearing, she loved dining and chatting with restaurant patrons and restaurant staff alike. She always made friends and sometimes scored a coveted recipe from a captivated chef.
On her birthday recently, my niece Nicole and I spent the day toasting in her honor, most of them with tears as sparkly as the champagne bubbles. The calendar shows 11 years have passed since her death, but my heart knows no such value. Time screeched still when she died and my love for her, now with no earthly being to lavish upon, hovers—never dissipates, never settles; always yearns, always remembers.
And I know not what to do.
So, I celebrate her.
This year, we celebrated at the ONE65 restaurant in San Francisco.