It was a year ago today that my mother left this world. I feel her presence inside of me--what she might say or do, how much she enjoyed her life on Earth, how much she loved it when family or friends came to visit us.
Family will be arriving tomorrow for a spring break visit; after that old friends will come from afar for a visit in April, and after that, another friend. Life keeps delivering its pleasures and I am grateful for every joy, large or small.
I want to thank all of you who left your messages of condolence on my blog, or on Facebook, or by mail or phone a year ago. It meant a lot. We are all on this winding road together, and yet it can be easy to forget that. Thank you for reminding me.
6 comments:
I sort of want to go shake up a martini and spear an olive for it and then raise it up for you and your mother. A year? Really? Oh, Denise.
I hope you always realize that you did so good in taking care of her.
Do you? Do you realize that?
All right. Celebrate her but do not forget to celebrate you.
Love...Me
That is such a beautiful picture.
That's such a beautiful picture of you and your mother. I will join Mary Moon in toasting her. I really can't believe that it's been a year. Blessings to you. I love you and miss you.
I was talking to my friend Harry yesterday, Denise, and we were discussing this issue of how the brain never fully adjusts to the loss of a parent. "I still think I can go to the phone and call my mother to tell her the peach tree is in full bloom," he said, "and she died 30 years ago." (Harry is 86.) I had jumped us into the conversation by telling him that, once again, I had almost picked up the phone on Sunday to remind my mom to set her clocks forward. She passed away in 2010. In one sense, those moments are tough; Mom will never again be a phone call away. In another sense, though, I love the intimacy of it, the reminder that they never fully leave us, that their words and wisdom and influence and yes, their spirits, remain with us for years and decades and our lifetimes.
I have said this before and I will hold onto it til I die....I choose grateful when I experience the pain of the loss of my mother in 2007. So many people do not have the gift of a wonderful, giving and wise woman to fill the shoes of MOM. I was one of the lucky ones.
I used to lament the fact that being the 5th out of 6 child, I got close to 20 years less of her guidance and friendship that my oldest sister got. But she prepared me for this, she shared her wisdom quietly and through genetics. When the pain gets big, when the empty spot that no one will ever fill gets a little unbearable, I get grateful.
I am new to your blog, but it sounds like you too were one of the lucky ones.
Love from your neighbor in Ventura.
She is all around you still. And inside you, yes. Love.
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