This was the year of playing it forward and planting remembrances.
My daughter bought me a yellow knockout rose bush!
I gave this to my mom years ago – this year I gave it to my daughter!
A cutting from Mom’s Pothos plant for my daughter.
For my family and close friends please don’t read this and think I’m depressed because I am not – BUT, I am different. I know several women who have lost children and the thing I always say to myself is, “They will never be the same.” And, they never will. A grief and sorrow I pray I will never experience. One is never the same after a parent dies either.
Living motherless is difficult and I am (almost) finding it harder the longer time goes on. Yesterday, my sister and I were remembering a childhood neighbor, Sissy – we couldn’t, for the life of us, remember her last name. We both said almost in unison, “Mother would know.” Our mom was as sharp at 86 as she was at 26 – a blessing I count as one of my all-time gratefulnesses! She could remember the minutia of our lives – me? I have a hard time remembering what I ate yesterday!
This Mom’s Day was number two without taking the annual flat of mixed pink Impatiens up the hill to Unit 1-A at her apartment complex – but I did drive up anyway, it turned out to be a big mistake. Her apartment is now occupied by a woman whose truck is embellished with bumper stickers. But the giant Hosta and yellow Daylilies are still adorning the little garden plot. I had a moment or five…
Similar to the bumper now parked at 1-A!
For years, these were purchased every Mom’s Day weekend!
Motherless for 18 months now, I find life very different – I am very different. My mom and I were pretty close – we saw one another weekly and spoke on the phone every single day. I watched her grow old and her body begin to fail – although she was never sick, she suffered bad knees and legs that hurt. As I sit here and write this morning my right knee is wrapped and my left leg is cramping – weird, huh? Like I said, I am different now.
Mother’s Day was lovely – but I had this image in my mind as we sat at the restaurant that I was now the next era – there was no elderly Mom to look at and dote on – I was “it”. I’m not saying this well but, suffice it to say, it was a surreal personal moment. When I left the restaurant (alone, as my family headed home) is when I made the right turn (actually, the wrong turn) toward the apartment complex…
“Not depressed, just different!”
Thanks for allowing me to ramble this post-Mother’s Day Wednesday!
He gives power to the weak, And to those who have no might He increases strength. Isaiah 40.29