When I woke, I could still smell the flowers she kept in every room and inhaled her memory. 
She knew how we took our whiskey and was masterful at guiding conversation between guests who barely spoke a common tongue.
She used to say, Greatness is not what you have. It’s what you give. It’s what you leave
behind.
Together we fashioned histories. We spun wild tales. We laughed and cried and fought bitterly and then drank to each other’s health.
