It's my 45th Mother's Day, my first without a mother. The hunky scientist is off on his weekly mountain bike ride and I would go to church, but everyone will be there with their mothers. Every member who has a mom within driving distance brings them to our church on Mother's Day, whether or not they are only C&E (Christmas and Easter) attendees otherwise. After the liturgy, instead of the usual coffee hour, there's a big Mother's Day luncheon. I'm not feeling sorry for myself (OK, yes I am); I'm just more protective of my feelings than to subject myself to a whole churchload of people celebrating their living moms.
Today, we're having a sports-nut pal over to eat pizza and watch the Warriors trounce Utah (with any luck). I've been dealing with a little problem I hope all this activity will sweep away for a while: no matter what I am doing or thinking, for long periods there is an image in my mind of my mother, sick in bed, struggling for breath, or of her face just after she'd died. I struggle to counteract this image with one of her alive, healthy, and happy, but that just ends up another layer of thought over the one that won't go away. Today is a day to celebrate our mothers. I don't want to think of her sick or dead. Not at all. I want to think of her on all the Mothers Days I can remember--enduring the awful burnt or underdone (sometimes both) pancakes and scorched coffee we made for her when we were in grade school, proudly displaying all the flowers we picked for her or later bought, displaying our cards on the mantel over the dining room fireplace. I have 44 Mothers Days to remember with joy and I'm determined to do that. So happy Mother's Day to my mom. Happy Mother's Day to us all.
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Those images will fade with time. Don't worry that they will be this fresh forever. You had time with your Mom that was good and you will rem those times.
So take it One Day at a Time.
I googled your Mom and saw some of her art work. Cool! I would like to hear some of her music someday. The nicest thing someone said to me after my Mom passed away was that she would love to listen to me tell her all about my Mom, who she didn't even know. I thought that was so sweet.
I didn't even have a computer 10 years ago and too lazy to journal.
But I have often thought of writing them all down somewhere for my grandchildren.
Easy does it!!!!
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