Sunday, May 10, 2015
Losing your mom prematurely is staggering and agonizingly painful at the outset. Over time I've learned to live with being motherless and gradually I began to savor sweet memories rather than sinking so deeply into my loss. But there are some losses I feel today that I could not comprehend at 28.
I'll never know the mother/daughter relationship we might have had through the growth of the last 28 years.
I finally do believe in my heart that she would be proud of the woman I am today. But I don't get to experience it.
I don't get to see my mom hold my grandchildren or tell her about them. I don't get to tell her how much I admire her as a grandma and that my goal is to be as good a grandma as she was.
I'd love to do things for my mom at this stage of life. I'd love to take her for a pedicure and massage. I'd love to take her on a trip ~ just the two of us. I'd love to take her to fancy restaurants (my treat).
I'd love to laugh with her about some of the ways I am exactly like her (because the ways we were different were so big in those first 28 years that they eclipsed the ways we were alike).
I know how much she would love John and wish she could have met him. I wish she could have been at our wedding.
I wish she could have watched me become strong enough to overcome the foolish choices of my youth ... and make better choices.
I wish she could have met all of her grandchildren and watched them grow into adulthood.
I wish I could still go to her house for holiday meals. Nobody did holidays better than my mom.
My list of wishes for what might have been could go on for hours and pages. But more than anything, I really wish I could laugh with my mom as a mature woman. I wish I could reminisce with her about the past and share the wisdom time has brought. I wish I could tell her that I am able to recognize her many strengths so much more than I did as a younger woman. I would love to tell her that I'm honored when someone tells me I'm like her.
I would love to know her more intimately than I was able to know her in my twenties. I would have loved for our relationship to have had time to blossom and mature. I wish we could have been better friends. And I wish I could have had more time to show her how much she meant to me and how much I appreciate her.
If you have your mom and are blessed to enjoy the many possibilities that are losses for me (and others like me), I am not jealous of you. I'm so very happy for you. I wish no one ever had to lose their mom prematurely and go through life without the love (and occasional frustration) of a mother.
What I hope is that you will make the most of the time you've been given. And ...
Today's a great day to start!