She had been blunter than I remembered.

She had also been fair.

She named the failure, repaired the process, and did not spend the next decade narrating her own virtue.

I took that as instruction.

The bracelet stayed on my wrist during the first quarter reviews and came off when I cooked, which made Ruth laugh when she visited.

“Your mother did the same,” she said.

“Jewelry for rooms that required a reminder.

Bare hands for soup.”