Rose Duclos

When i was a little girl my mom used to send me off to school. Unbeknownst to me, she would follow me to the corner and watch me walk the three blocks to the playground just to insure that I made it to school safely.

Her daily trip to the local market, the one located on the same street as my walk home from school, often coincided with the end of the school day. She would greet my friends and I bearing popsicles or some other form of tasty treat and walk us the rest of the way home.

It took me years to catch on to the fact that she was my guardian angel. She lived to make sure that my life was safe and secure. To the day she died, at 93 years young, she was my protector.

A mother-daughter bond is hard to break and I know that even though she has passed on, the memory of her will always be with me reminding me to look both ways when I cross the street, and to never put my drink down because someone might slip something into it. Never tell lies. Be nice to people even if you don't like them and don't trust the "Queen of England".

My mom was eccentric and wonderful. She drove me crazy at times. She made me laugh like a loon and cry like a baby.

Through it all she was my champion.

No one will ever love you like your mommy.

I will think of her every day for the rest of my life and marvel at her strength of will and character. She faced adversities head on and most of the time she conquered them.

To quote a good friend of mine, "She was a classy lady."

That being said... I will never forget the time my little 5'2" mom single handedly threw an entire motorcycle gang, "The Gypsy Jokers", out of her bar. The reason being that they would not remove their jackets that displayed gang colors.

So shocked by the fact that she wouldn't back down, 20 guys turned around and left. A week later the leader of the group, "Gypsy", came back. He was not wearing gang colors. He apologized to my mom and asked to shake her hand.

She informed him that he would be welcome to frequent her establishment but that he was never to wear his gang jacket. He had to tell her his given name because she refused to call him "Gypsy". They had a deal.

Through the years as "Gypsy" mellowed my mom was treated with visits from him proudly presenting his new baby for her to cuddle. They treated each other with mutual respect and kindness.

She was a big personality in a little body.

About a week before she died she confided in me that she didn't want to pass on because she still needed to take care of me.

This made me smile. Her weight had dropped to 85 pounds. She could still stand on her own but we used a wheelchair whenever went out for the day.

I assured her that I was getting pretty good at taking care of myself because of everything that she had taught me. This made her smile.

That day I think she made a conscious decision to let go.

I was lucky enough to be holding her hand when she left this world and I am happy to say it was a peaceful departure.

Her death has left an empty space in my life. I will go to that space and revisit her often. I know that the memory of her will ultimately produce a smile on my face.