November has a way of slowing me down — of pulling me inward and stirring up memories. The air cools, the light softens, and somehow the days invite both reflection and creation. Maybe it’s fitting that I forgot my marking at school on Friday, because here I am — with unexpected time to sit, breathe, and create.

This weekend, my heart led me back down to my little studio in the basement, her presence never far from my thoughts. Months before she passed, my best friend, judy, bought me everything I’d need to start making soap. We had plans — endless ideas for scents and packaging. She was my QEIC — Quality Expert In Charge — my first tester, my cheerleader, and my truth-teller, always ready with that spark in her eyes. I thought she’d be here physically with me when I made my first batch, but she was here in spirit instead.

On November 1st, I finally made my way downstairs. I turned up the music — Afrobeats, of course — and lit her candle. The flicker of the flame felt like her presence: gentle and steady. I started heating the base, mixing scents, and before I knew it, my first batch was ready — lavender vanilla with Himalayan salt.

As the soap came together, so did a swirl of emotion: grief, gratitude, and love. When I unmolded the bars, eyes full of tears, I whispered a quiet thank you to her.

This November, I’m wishing for peace — in the making, in the remembering, and in the quiet moments I didn’t plan for. Every bar I craft is a small act of love, a way of continuing the story we started together.