Store Bought: Part 13

When Judy died, she branded her initials, JDP, in swirly blue letters on everyone who remembers her. And with that one dramatic stamp, we each became her. Everything that we loved about her – how she knew when to laugh at herself, how she could choose the perfect shade of paint for a room, how she let people enjoy each other’s company by giving them a big kitchen table and a bag of M&Ms – became our tradition to keep. And we have. For every medium regular coffee, and bunch of yellow roses, and puff of Chanel No. 5 in which we have indulged to make Judy sensory and tangible again, there has been another time that we have scheduled election day into our calendars, had the courage to be no-nonsense about an issue, and decided to turn up the radio and sing when it’s midnight and we’ve got seventy five more miles to go. Those are what make us whole again. The products are our comfort, but her character is our salvation.