My mother passed away in October 2005. I miss her in so many ways, but most of all I miss being mothered. Today I wore an old favorite blazer to work. It is missing a button (which I have, but have not sewn back on). Although I tossed a sewing kit and the button in my briefcase this morning, I drove home from work tonight buttonless. And motherless. I wished I could call my mom to ask her to sew it for me – to take care of the little things like she always did.
I think my mother would be happy to know that I miss her most in everyday fleeting moments that cause me to draw in a sharp breath realizing (once again) that she’s gone. I miss her when I wear her pearls, or when I accomplish something at work and I want to brag, or when I see her face in her granddaughter’s expression, or when I long for her soft embrace, her unconditional love, and the way she always selflessly put me first.
I’m at the age when many of my friends are losing their parents. Before my parents died I never knew the right thing to say in sympathy to others. Of course, there is no prefect turn of phrase that will ease grief. But I share a universal truth – no matter how long we are blessed with our parents, it’s never long enough. I try to remember to reach out to a friend months after the loss of a parent – when the expressions of sympathy have passed but the pain has not.
I wonder what everyday things my daughters will one day remember about me.
No doubt I will continue to experience moments when my instinct is to grab my phone to ask my mom for advice or to share something she’d appreciate. All these years later.
