Mom

My mother passed away 3 years ago last May. Not a day has passed since then that I haven't run things past her for her opinion or to make her laugh. My mom had a sense of humor that carried us all every day. She was practical, a gifted writer and was always brilliantly informed on world events. These are some of her gifts that others valued in her. But the part that I ate up was the portion, tucked deep inside, that knew beyond a shadow of doubt that Oz was real, that Narnia exists and that life was clearer there. This fanciful essence connected she and I in a way that buoyed us when times got tough.

My mother collected boxes, all shapes and sizes, some from Japan, others from travels to Scotland and England and Wales. After her death, I found in some of the boxes an unremarkable object with a history known only to my mother, a foreign coin or a paste diamond long divorced from it's setting. Exploring those boxes since that May reinforces for me the Netherland part of my mom's beliefs and I treasure that.

My father and brother miss her, too, of course. My father has never quite recovered her loss. He carries her inside as well but differently than me. He mourns now, as do I, but he finds he is without much hope for more. I am always near tears when I speak or think of her but I'm lead to laughter and love and I wish I could help him find that.


Since that dreadful May, I decided that I was going to operate as though she was with me because she's as with me in my heart as she ever was when she was physically here. I still go to call her, that always brings me up short, but the part that has been the toughest to extinguish is searching for little gifts that I know would make her laugh. So I'm not going to try to extinguish it! I have now decided to indulge myself in a gift on her birthday each year that she would adore and inside this box is my first. I know what is in there, of course--I chose it, but I haven't opened it. For that I will wait for her birthday, October 15th.

You can guess but it's hopeless. It's far too ridiculous for words but she would have howled with laughter and kept it near always. And so will I!

We all miss our mothers when they leave us, I know. And one is not more special than another, they are all superb!

But I have a friend who has never been able to touch upon love with her mother, with reason. She misses her mother all the more I fear as there are no chuckle-headed memories in her heart or a smile that forms on her lips upon reflection.

I was blessed. My prayer is that you were too :)