Some people dread different things - events, or expectations - life happenings, certain days. Today, it's the day I knew was coming and there was no stopping it. On a day when people honor their Mothers and hug them and do special things for them... I am without, for the first time ever. But I also know that most people that dread things, survive and look back on those times and say - it made me stronger. I woke after about only an hour of sleep last night. I watched the clock tick over to the 12:00 am red glare, May 10th, 2015. "Here it is", I said. I spent the rest of the night looking at pictures, playing videos over and over, and actually testing God's patience in asking to just hear her voice once more. I talked out loud to her - silly but true. I told her how sorry I was for letting her down so many times, and for not canning enough beans, and for taping up the hem of something instead of sewing it like she would have. I told her that I actually didn't like her meatloaf, and when she made liver and onions I almost called child social services. I thanked her for being the smile at the ball park, or the track, or the basketball or volleyball games. I remembered her laughter and tears about life choices she had no choices in. I spent a lot of time wishing her hand on my face, and to hear the words, "You just made my day" when it was actually her that had made mine. I still didn't hear her voice, I still didn't dream of her. I fretted over the cupcakes I needed to make and if they would be pretty enough or in the right paper, and I knew she had given me that silly thought. Our last words together were in prayer - I always had such a hard time leaving and driving the long ride home alone. I would gather her hands in mind and kneel next to her wheelchair and we would pray together. That is one thing I will always be thankful for - our prayers were precious, as they were expressions of love and concerns and brought peace and hope in our dark times. Yesterday I wanted to see my daughters, the mothers of my grandchildren, the next generation of my mothers genes. So. Much. Beauty. When I'm with them, the crater in my heart from missing my mom is gently filling. They buffer the pain, they tenderly expose the path ahead of hope and love. Mom's day is a very special day. Gratitude is such a small word for such a huge person. Each memory of my mom is now a treasure, to reopen when needed and to hold dearly. It's a gentle reminder that I need to be better at making a few treasures for my own kids, and grand kids. But just for today, this long first time, this exhausting day of moments and thoughts and regrets and thankfulness... I might just be a little girl, her little girl. Tomorrow - I'll be a Mom again.
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