As Autumn kicks in, mornings are getting chilly in Sydney. Just the other day, the south easterly ocean breeze had me diving into the far reaches of my wardrobe for a sweater. As I rummaged around, what I pulled out from the back of my wardrobe stopped me in my tracks. Soft and crumpled in my hands was the lilac cardigan that belonged to my mother, Pauline. She died several years ago, and after she passed, I kept a few of her personal things that had sentimental value for me: