Charlotte, or ‘Mumsie,’ as I called her, was the real-life definition of an English rose. She was fair-skinned, beautiful, elegant, and delicate in her heart and soul. I have a gorgeous pink rose set in a glass globe that she gave me as a pressie one Christmas, when we dined on Cornish hens and shared a delicious trifle she made for our very British-themed Christmas.
 
While the rose is a national symbol in England, Charlotte, my English rose had international symbolism as an inspiring force of nature for her kindness, and gentleness. She celebrated triumphs and good times joyously, while just as equally facing family crises with aplomb. She never met a stranger on her frequent visits to the United States to see her daughter Caroline. Charlotte made numerous friends on her own, of all ages and diverse backgrounds, some of whom were celebrities, but she was not impressed, which impressed the rich and famous! She treated everyone the same. Always wearing a single strand of pearls, as if it was her second skin---she effortlessly and graciously embraced Caroline’s many friends from across the globe over the years.
 
We were all part of Charlotte’s web of people whom she delighted in knowing. She was able to make each of us feel so very special. When you were with Charlotte, it was as if you were the only person in her life at that moment in time. She was a good listener and sincerely enjoyed learning about your life; with her gorgeous blue eyes lighting up with enthusiasm and wonder, as she listened to your stories. She was as much a brilliant journalist as her daughter, with her boundless curiosity about people and life.
 
Charlotte was never judgmental about the lives of those people she came to care about. I can personally attest to this, and I witnessed her consistent generosity of spirit in how she treated others---always respecting how they lived their lives. Just loving and accepting each of us for who we are.
 
Isn’t that how we are all commanded to love?
 
I have never seen a more selfless mother with her unconditional love. Never! She fiercely protected her children and grandchildren, like a mother cat is with her kittens.
 
She loved America’s Mexican cuisine and we had many meals at Mexican restaurants in Los Angeles. She might have one, but just ‘one’ margarita and enjoy it so. She had a wicked, oft-times wry wit that was utterly delicious, and I like to think I’m one of the special few she trusted to show this side of her. We shared many high- spirited laughs, and even some light-hearted gossip sessions on occasion. She was nobody’s fool, but she didn’t have to let you know all that she knew, especially if it might be perceived in anyway as hurtful.
 
Humans were not the only recipients of her boundless capacity for love. While she really fancied pussy cats, my menagerie of doggies felt safe when she cradled them in her bosom; and loved when she donned her cleaning gloves and bathed them in sudsy water.
 
Charlotte taught me many things about living life more fully and caring deeper for those whom we both loved. She is an amazing soul! I already miss her, but I shall never stop loving Mumsie, my English rose.