Today is Mother’s Day.
It’s also the forty-sixth day Mom’s been gone.
We haven’t spent Mother’s Day together the last several years as she was busy with The Past Passed Here and I was in another state. But this year is different. This year, I can’t call and leave a message on the answering machine she’ll hear when she gets home. I can’t call the florist and order a bouquet of flowers or a hanging plant she’ll see that will remind her she’s my mom and I love her. I can’t text her so her phone, something that shouldn’t be involved in a 1700s re-enactment, chimes or honks or makes whatever noise we set as her alert. I can’t even surprise her by showing up on her doorstop so I can give her a hug.
Instead, today I get to remember.
I remember my mom, the person who would stick her arm out the car window and “fly” down the highway with us. The person who would whip my butt in Scrabble. The person who was at every concert, every competition, every event (Dad, too). The person who would insist on having a new dish towel and ornament for both her girls under the Christmas tree each year. The person who could calm me by running her hands through my hair. The person who would remind me before every trip to call her when I reached my destination. The person who would make ham and turkey at Christmas because she knew I liked ham better (and then send the leftovers home with me). The person who would make me laugh so hard I couldn’t breathe. The person who sat on the edge of her bed and told me she loved me one last time.
I know there will be so many “firsts” this year. Her birthday, my birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas, Mother’s Day… Today I’m going to try to think of Mom and smile. I’m pretty sure that smile will happen only after the tears are gone and my cheeks have dried, but I’m going to try – because that’s what Mom would want.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. I’m sending you a big hug and hoping you’re spending the day with Grandma and Granny. Please give them a hug for us. I love you.