I want to share something personal with you. It’s about my mom, who is my best friend, my biggest cheerleader, and my safe place.

She passed away this past May. And every day since, I’ve found myself reaching for the things she left behind. Not jewelry, or clothes, or designer bags. But her voice. Her laugh. Her smile.

Growing up, our bond was unshakable. The holidays were our time. We had this holiday tradition where we would head to Fifth Avenue. We’d shop until our arms ached, bags swinging from our wrists, before heading to Bergdorf Goodman for dinner. It was our little luxury, sitting across from each other, tired but happy. Sharing food. Swapping stories. Telling each other "I love you," like it was breathing.

Here’s the thing: the most important piece of her I carry with me today

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