Today is the day. It's the day that no one wants to remember and I'm certain those being remembered never want us to dwell on these days... it's the day of death. Today is the day I said goodbye to my mother's physical body. Today, four years ago, is the day I started my motherless journey.
It was Friday the 13th, just before her favorite holiday: St. Patrick's Day. It's all a haze from the 13th to the 20th when we celebrated my mom's life at a beautiful facility in Asheville NC. The weather was absolutely gorgeous and the sunset was breathtaking. Her friends were there, loving her and giving love to our entire family. Our extended family was there, telling stories, hugging, laughing, crying and just loving each other. The young children were playing during the ceremony, just as she would have wanted them to. She was in their hearts, teaching them to sing instead of cry. Reminding us how grand life is, no matter how short.
Never will she be out of my heart or out of my head, but forever will I miss our conversations.
I was a tough teenager. I pushed the boundaries in life and in parenting. And I am so thankful that I was old enough when my mom passed (I was 31, she was 64) that we had a chance to reflect on it. And you know what? She didn't resent me! She was thankful! She told me that I pushed her to be a better person. All those times in the car when she'd put on the personal growth tapes, I cursed under my breath how annoying it was. And all this time later, I still use those lessons to grow. To stay grounded. To remember that life is what I make of it.
So, as I remember this day, the toughest day I've ever experienced, I also remember how fortunate I am to have had a mother who pushed back when I pushed her. Who always kept learning, who always stayed hopeful and who always said the things that made us step back and contemplate ourselves.
It's a good life.
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