Sunday, May 10, 2015
Motherless Daughter on Mothers Day
Mommy, Me and brother Jay
My Aunt Elba's wedding
My Mom and Grandmother at my Grandmother's wedding
Three generations - My Mom, Grandmother and Great Grandmother. My Mom's coffee pot, brewed coffee all day long, every day. I get my coffee addiction from her.
Mommy, and sister Karen
Her words - a journal I have of hers. She only has 3 entries in it.
I've been a motherless daughter since the age of 15. And after 29 years I still miss her everyday. Memories have faded with time, I can kind of remember her voice, her laughter. I would give anything just sit with a cup of coffee (her's black, no cream, no sugar) and chat. To share my life, now that I'm all grown up and a mother myself. Right now, I've lived 13 more years than she did. She died at 31.
With Mother's Day around the corner, I felt a tug at my heart. I pulled out the few pictures I have of her, her journal and sat on my bedroom floor longing for her. I caressed the pages knowing many years ago, late at night, she wrote the words that were on her heart at the time. Her hands touched these very pages. She wrote to God. Asked that He guide her to Him, make her a better wife and mother. I've read her words before, but they never hit me like they did at that moment. Her words and feelings were my own. She even wrote "I am really getting tired, I want to knit, and then I don't." I have said those very words.
I look back at the precious few pictures I have and wonder about the woman she was. The one I wonder most about is the one in the hospital with my Grandmother by her side. I'm not sure who took the picture, but what was my Mom thinking at that moment, knowing the cancer was winning. What was my Grandmother thinking as she watched her daughter dying. So much love and heartache in that one moment.
I miss my Mother everyday. Wish I had more time with her. Wish I could jump into that picture on that sunny afternoon many years ago. Sit with her on grass, hold her hand, and tell her I love her.