happy birthday mom!

Today would have been my mother's 54th birthday. How I miss her! Her laugh that curled over the threshold of my ears in the same way her hair curled around her eyes: soft and tangible. The way her hand felt in mine when we would sit and talk for hours about nothing and about everything. The way she never complained even though she was sick my whole life. I know she suffered but I never heard her complain. She was strong and beautiful. Her letters to me that spoke of her love and worry and care for me; like prayers almost that she had written about me and allowed me the pleasure of reading them. I miss the way she so fully trusted God and his promises to her all her life. She claimed them as her own and relied on them as her source of strength. I miss waking up to hear her playing the piano, Fur Elise or one of many hymns, and her voice singing. I miss knowing that she'll be there when I get home. I miss her presence in my life. The way she always had something to say to me: advice, praise, criticism (always constructive), that she loved me. I miss how she always wanted to protect us but sometimes didn't quite know how.

I know she was hurt when I spent so much time out of the house my junior year of high school when I found out she was dying. I know I hurt her and I will never have that time back and I suppose I am the one that hurts the most because of it. I just couldn't bare to see her, to watch her cling to life the way she did, to fight with everything in her to stay who she was. I know there were other times I disappointed her, other times I hurt her so deeply. When I left for college at KU she was scared for me and sad that I wasn't ready and still chose to go anyway. I think she knew something would happen to me while I was there and I wouldn't be able to finish. She never got angry though really. Now that I think about it I wonder if it would have been better, healthier, for her to have gotten angry every once in a while. Or maybe it just wasn't in her nature to be angry. I can see how that might be the case.

When she died I was heart-broken but that doesn't quite describe it. It felt like I had lost my own life, my will, my purpose. Like all desire had been ripped from me and all that was left was just a gaping wound. My dad said to me, "Just think the level of your grief that you are experiencing now speaks to the depth and breadth of the love that you had for her when she was alive." That made sense for me. If I hadn't been so close to her, hadn't relied on her so much, hadn't loved her so much I wouldn't have had that much sorrow over losing her. It just clicked for me. The reason for the great sorrow I was experiencing was a product of a great love that I had for her times a great love she had for me. I was so blessed.

I miss her. Her hugs. Her kisses. Her words. Her love. Her faith. Her voice. Her letters. Her beauty. Her life. Her being. I miss having the space filled that she occupied in my heart - a mom-sized, a mom-shaped space. Happy birthday mom! I know you're watching over me right now! I love you!