To My Mom …

I read a book called Motherless Daughters by Hope Edelman after my mom died.  There was a paragraph in the book that hit home for me to the point that I would read it over and over and over again throughout the years.  It just fits perfectly.

I pull this book out every once in awhile, when my ache for my mom seems particularly tough.  Truth is, I have no idea who she would be now.  Fourteen years is a long time and I can only base my sadness on my memories anymore … and they are old, old memories now.

So anyway, on this Mother’s Day, I will share with you the passage that has been my friend all these years – so much so that sometimes I forget that I didn’t write it.

“I missed my mother, terribly, when I graduated from college and no one from my family was there.  I missed her when I got my first job promotion and wanted to share the news with someone who’d be proud.  I miss her when I’m sick and when I’m lonely, when I can’t remember what works best on insect bites, and when nobody else cares how rude the clerk in the post office was to me.  Whether she actually would have fed me homemade chicken soup or mailed me cotton balls and calamine lotion if she were alive isn’t really the issue.  To be honest, my mother never once in her life cooked chicken soup that didn’t come from a can.  It’s the fact that I can’t ask her for it that makes me miss her all over again.”

Love you, Mom.

me and mom

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