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FROM OUR FAMILY TO YOURS
ESTATE GROWN — EL CAMINO REAL VINEYARD — SANTA YNEZ VALLEY
Picked in 2024 | Bottled in 2025 | Enjoy NOW
Dear Mom,
There are people who live life…
and there are people who build it.
Cancer came for you—twice.
Took its swing.
Thought it had you measured.
It didn’t know who it was dealing with.
You didn’t make a speech.
You didn’t ask for sympathy.
You laced up your shoes…
and fought.
Six miles a day.
Like you were pushing something back into the earth
that had no business being here.
No complaints.
No “why me.”
Just forward.
That’s how you’ve always been.
You’re there before the first pitch,
before the kick off,
before the moment even knows it matters.
Front row for your grandchildren—
like it’s the only place you’ve ever belonged.
You pray for your boys every day.
Not for easy lives…
but for strong ones.
You prayed the hardest prayer a mother can pray:
“Let my boys be humble men.”
That one landed.
Because life didn’t take it easy on us.
It came in hot.
Caught us clean.
But you never let us stay down.
You didn’t raise us to avoid the fight—
you raised us to walk back into it
with our heads up
and our hands steady.
You said goodbye to Dad…
and you kept going.
I still don’t know how you did that.
But you did.
You paint like there’s something inside you
that has to get out.
You bake bread for people
who can’t pay you back.
You treat a queen and a neighbor the same.
You build things that don’t show up on balance sheets—
community,
trust,
love that lingers after the room clears out.
You laugh the loudest.
You fight the hardest.
You don’t quit.
You never have.
And somewhere along the way…
you made grown men—
men who’ve been through it—
stand there and say:
“Mom Can Do It, So Can I.”
You did that.
If the world came for us…
you would step in front of it.
Not loud.
Not for show.
Just… there.
The line no one crosses.
The place we go when it all gets heavy.
You are the best mom this world has ever seen.
And somehow… I get to call you mine.
I don’t know why I’m so lucky.
Naming a wine after you…
that’s not branding.
That’s duty.
Because when something is this real—
you don’t decorate it.
You honor it.
And no one deserves that more than you.
Some wines peak early.
They show up loud.
Overdressed.
Trying to win a room they don’t understand.
Chardonnay?
That’s the girl who peaked in high school.
Grenache Blanc?
That’s my Mom.
Four-sport varsity.
MVP.
Still getting better
when everyone else is looking for the exit.
No shortcuts.
No noise.
No finish line.
Just work.
Quiet.
Relentless.
Unmistakable.
This wine doesn’t demand your attention.
It earns it.
And if you sit with it long enough…
it stays with you.
Just like her.
WHO IT’S FOR:
If you have a mom you love—
this bottle is for her.
If you miss your mom so hard it catches in your throat—
this bottle is for you.
If you’re married to a mom and you can’t believe you got that lucky—
this bottle is your thank you.
And if you are a mom—
You don’t need a reason.
You don’t need a holiday.
You don’t need permission.
You already earned it.
Open this on a Tuesday.
Because you made it through Monday.
Because there’s laundry in the dryer
and a fire in your soul.
Because you’ve walked through hell for your family…
and still brought snacks.
THE WINE:
Grenache Blanc.
Estate grown. Farmed by us.
From El Camino Real Vineyard
in the Santa Ynez Valley.
Grown under the same sun
that warmed her shoulders on morning walks.
The same valley that heard every cheer
from every game she never missed.
Handpicked.
Handled with intention.
Built slow.
Tasting Notes:
Peach. Apricot.
Bright lemon zest.
White flowers.
Clean linen.
A finish that lingers—
like advice you didn’t take…
but should have.
There’s structure here.
But it’s tender.
It doesn’t need attention.
It earns respect.
WHO IT’S ABOUT:
Linda Saarloos.
Youngest of six.
Minnesota roots. California grit.
Four-sport varsity athlete.
CIF Woman of the Year.
Three-time cancer survivor.
The love of my father’s life.
She raised two boys who got punched in the face by life—
and taught them how to stand back up.
With grace.
With humility.
With fight.
She didn’t break our spirit.
She built it.
WHY THIS WINE EXISTS:
Because a mother’s name belongs on a bottle—
not just a card.
Because when we toast,
it should mean something.
Because flowers wilt.
Chocolate melts.
Brunch ends.
But this bottle?
This one stays.
FINAL THOUGHTS:
You don’t have to wait.
But if you do—
make it matter.
Pour it with both hands.
Hold your glass high.
And say her name out loud.
Because when you do—
She’ll hear it.
Wherever she is.
She’ll know.
This is MOM.
From our family to yours.
Raise a glass.
And if you’re still lucky enough to say it—
Say it now:
We Love You, Mom.
