strength to strength
Five years. Can it be five years?
Today was the day five years ago we buried my mom.
Social media always loves to remind you of what happened in the past. That can be good and bad because it's good to remember. I want to remember who my mother was before the end of her life.
Over the last couple of years, before Mom passed, her pain, her illnesses, and everything combined started changing who she was—how she did her life. I hated those years. I hated that she was not who she was and was not feeling well most of the time. I know it made her unhappy as well. I choose not to remember her that way.
Today is the day that I remember her for the phenomenal mom she was. She had her faults. She didn't think well of herself. She often would call herself a "dummy" when she made a mistake. But she was so bright, but not in a traditional sense. She was highly creative in everything she attempted and often shared her results with others. And that's one thing I do believe I have inherited from her is her untraditional sense of intelligence.
We both see the world as something special, connected, whether through a relationship or the fact that you look like someone else would make a connection for her. And I do the same thing all the time.
As I've dug into who I am, I see more of who she was. And that is such a gift.
My brother and sister have mourned in their way because of our life experiences. How we grieve is different because of how we're put together, even though we are related. Even though we share some DNA, we do not do life anywhere near alike. But we still love each other across those bonds. Whether we struggle through those bonds or if they've been easy, there is still that shared experience of living in the same household growing up. We know what the other is going through on this day.
Today was the day we buried my mom five years ago. I remember that day like it was yesterday. And I know her impact on people's lives and that her absence has created a hole that cannot be replaced. I love that woman and will always love her for everything she taught me through her service to others.
I could get angry with all the words she said that I didn't want to hear. Some things were said out of ignorance, not intelligence or love. She didn't know all the facts yet. She just had an opinion, and sometimes the view wasn't as informed as it should be. So we had many discussions over those kinds of things. But I still love that woman, and I'm glad God put me into her life as her daughter.
My brother and sister feel the same way because she was the glue that held us together and so many others together. Whether they will admit it or not. She was the glue. I can only strive to be the glue in my life.
You know what I'm saying for those of you who knew the type of woman my mother was. She was quiet glue. She wasn't the showy type which made it known that she was holding things together. She did it quietly in the background. And some of you people never knew. But we did. We saw it, and we loved her for it. For holding us together even after she left us. Because I will always love that woman. The woman I call my mother.
Miss you, Mom!!
I believe in connecting with people through thoughts and ideas. I know we all have a story to share and in that story we find out who we really are! I want to hear your story.