On Mother's Day
|My mother, me, my daughter & granddaughter 2013|
I found out today that an old friend of mine died yesterday. She was a year or so younger than me, and now she's gone. Right before Mother's Day, her daughter loses her mama. I should be crying, but aside from my initial shock, I'm not. Maybe I should, but I simply feel numb.
I think of that poor girl spending the rest of her life without her mother, and it saddens me. She and my youngest son grew up together. I've known her mother since they were in kindergarten – fifteen years. I haven't seen her in quite awhile. She had some physical challenges and didn't get out much. She had dogs and cats, so I didn't drop by. Now, she's gone.
This makes me think of how many loved ones have died since January of 2015. We lost my mother-in-law and father-in-law last year. Shortly after my mother-in-law died, I lost another friend of mine, a woman who was also a year or so younger than I. Her son is a year or so older than mine.
Starting in January, I've lost a friend nearly every month. Death of the Month Club is not one I wish to be a part of. It's one thing when the person is in their seventies or eighties, it's quite another when the person is in her mid-fifties.
For these families, and many more, Mother's Day won't be a celebration, but a day spent missing the person they love. There won't be laughter and presents, but a gaping hole in their hearts, which they will try to fill with memories instead.
I feel that way every Father's Day. Everyone so joyful, loving their dads, telling how Daddy is my best friend.... I lost my father over 30 years ago. He never got to see my kids grow up, never met the two younger ones, and they missed out on something special. He wasn't the most openly loving man around, but I knew he loved me. He was funny, snide, brilliant and critical of stupidity. I learned to appreciate the written word because of him, and I still hear his rumbling voice in my head when I edit, especially if I am considering whether or not to cut a page, paragraph or scene. “If you think it needs to go, cut the damn thing!” And he's always right.
I guess the point I'm making is that those we love have moved on, but are still with us in some form or fashion. As long as we have memories of them, however ephemeral or fleeting, they stay in our hearts and minds giving us a smile, a tear or a good laugh.
My heart goes out to these friends and family members who have lost their mothers. You are in my heart and in my prayers today. I feel your loss and I wish there were some magic pill which would bring them back.