A bittersweet day, since Mom’s been gone. I don’t break down and boo-hoo or anything. But then I rarely do that sort of thing anyway. I miss her and think about her all the time, and probably always will. But on the day she passed, and Mother’s Day, and her birthday, I particularly miss her. Yet I also remember all the good times we had together.
You know the ones you love will die, and your parents likely before you. But it’s not something you dwell upon. Which is why the cancer diagnosis was an odd blessing. I’d moved in with her a couple years before, to help both of us. After the diagnosis, Mom had relatively good health for a year and a half, thanks to Hospice. But I knew our time together was limited, so I tried to share as much love and fun with her as I could. I’ll always treasure those memories, and our trip between the hurricanes in 2004, and the camping trip in the summer of 1971. And all the times in between, ups and downs. I miss you, Mom, and I love you. I’ll be up there to join you in a few decades, but I’m going to take my time. Wait up for me, and we’ll cook up something fun, OK?