sometimes it’s
expected.
usually i have
more days like this in may.
it’s her day of
birth,
mothers day…
i pull out all
the journals,
memory books,
photographs,
and just like to
sit and think about
everything
that’s happened since
now and then.
other times
it’s a passing thought,
or comment in
conversation.
emotions are
under control
with only
sweet, lingering nostalgia.
today i was
just brushing my teeth,
and thought of
something funny
my mom said at
family home evening.
we were talking
about adam and eve
and she had the
hypothesis that
the tree of
knowledge of good and evil
was a fig tree.
cause adam and eve covered themselves up with
fig leaves afterwards. ha.
(gotta love
those biblical theories).
and then,
out of nowhere,
i felt the
water works welling up.
i don’t know if
it’s because today marks
exactly 4 years
and 3 months since she passed away,
but i sat down
for a few minutes
and just let
the wave of tears and memories flow.
a few days
earlier,
i was talking
with my dad in the car
about her.
he said,
“i still miss
her like crazy.”
and today i
missed her like crazy too.
i miss the way
she laughed while watching
her favorite
movie, ‘the gods must be crazy’
i miss the way
she made me laugh.
(here’s a post
with stories from an old blog
i had to write
for a class a few years ago).
i miss her
political rants.
i miss resting
my head on my mom’s shoulder and talking.
i miss
listening to “do you know?” by enrique iglesias,
and every time
she was so impressed the beat started with a ping pong.
i miss her
attention to detail.
i even miss all
the unsolicited advice on health and nutrition.
i remember one
night hearing my parents having
a somewhat loud "discussion" upstairs and after awhile,
i could hear my
mom crying.
i went upstairs
and asked,
“is everything
okay, mom?”
she smiled at
me under the tears,
and said,
“yes,
everything is alright.
your dad is
just a little discouraged
we’ve been
trying so many treatments
and nothing has
been getting better.
but i know
everything is going to be okay.
i know that
because of your faith, liza.
your prayers
and positive attitude,
remind me that
things will work out for the best.
keep having
faith, sweetheart.”
i think of that
memory,
and keep trying
to hold on to the faith i had then.
faith that
wasn’t conditional upon an outcome.
because even
though she did pass away,
and even though
it’s been a few years now,
i still
sometimes wonder if things will
work out
without her.
but they have,
and will
continue to.
and even though
there’s days like this
where i miss
her like crazy,
i know there’s
more memories to make ahead
than those we've left behind.
