A Mother's Day of Remembrance

So I've learned how to make the most out of this day. Tell my husband exactly what I want... this leads to no disappointment. I try to let Bill think they are merely ideas but when you only give 2 or 3 ideas, there's not much room for mistakes. Olivia was great in pushing the Baskin Robbins ice cream cake coupon on to him and both kids helped Bill pick out my wonderful gifts; a purple water bottle with stainless steel bike holder, and yellow flip flops to match my yellow purse. (The matching was Livi's idea.)  It was so fun to see the kids sooo eager and excited to show me all my presents. Aaron, once Olivia woke up, could hardly contain himself and was practically unwrapping the gifts for me. The anticipation of me seeing the ice cream cake, pralines 'n' cream (yum!), nearly killed them. Dinner was my favorite oldie, taco salad.  Bill tried to put a healthy twist to it and bought fat free 1000 Island dressing , we won't be doing that again, but a large helping of dessert made up for the missed fat grams!!!

Over all this was a good day, but a lot of tears were shed. It started 1 week ago when I was at Michael's craft store. At check out the cashier asked, "Is your mother a crafty person? We have..." At first I couldn't figure out who she was talking to. Why would she be wondering about my mom. I became so agitated that this perfect stranger had the nerve to remind me of my loss, the only reply that I could muster was, "I don't have a mom anymore." And then I left. I didn't get caught up in the moment, I wasn't rude about it, just very matter of fact. I knew she didn't have any malice in her heart, she was simply trying to sell. But I honestly couldn't think of anything else to say. If I said my mother died there's that big "D" word and that's always upsetting. If I said "oh no thank you" in my mind I'd be lying to cover up the truth, so I told her the facts. I don't know if I'd change it given the chance... it surely did wake me up to what I'd been stifling lately.

My mother was a very tender person. She wore her heart on her sleeve. With this also came deep love for those around her. Especially little ones. She was always so tender with little children. How she spoke to them, how she touched them, how she kissed them. Any child in her arms was the only child that mattered in the world. She would call them sweetheart, whether they were hers or not. I find myself doing this. I never thought I would. But I do. Friends' kids to me have become part of my terms of endearment list. Sweetie and honey are repeated often from my lips. Kisses I give on little heads take me back to the kiss she gave me as I lay on the delivery table preparing to push Livi into this world. Her love, so tender, so sincere, so pure, so simple. She loved me and others simply because that's what made her happy. 

Mom was ALWAYS singing, or humming. The funny thing about this is Livi has inherited this trait. I LOVE IT! The most perfect example of everything that mom was was portrayed in church yesterday. Aaron was pretty restless, he didn't know how to get comfortable in the pews of sacrament meeting and he was tired. Bill and I were trying to grasp what the speaker was saying and realized, we have background music. Olivia had gotten him to lay down on her lap and was stroking his head while singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star". She finished and Aaron asked her to sing "Teach Me to Walk In the Light" to which she replied she didn't know enough of and then he asked for "I Am a Child of God". I didn't even care that it was a little above a whisper. I closed my eyes, fought back the tears and let my smile spread. So tender, so sincere, so pure, so simple; just like my mom.

After the meeting was over I was still in tears and Livi's flood gates opened wide. The two of us sat there selfishly missing my mom. Holding each other to help ease the heartache. I read through my journal upon arriving home. It was nice to read experiences I have had as a mom and to read of conversations I had had with my mom. Laughs I can still remember, although the memories are fading.

 

I called her oldest girlfriend Jan to wish her a Happy Mother's Day. All I could hear were all her happy grandchildren playing in the background. I could hardly get the words out. Jan simply said, "I know, I know". I'm glad I called. 

Bill was so great. He lay with me as I missed my mom. He said that it's sometimes so hard to believe she's even gone. She loved Bill so much, as she does all her family. I loved how she would tease him with... whatever, and then scrunch up her nose, squint her eyes and more or less silently laugh at her cleverness.

I will be forever grateful to a mom that taught me everything I ever needed to know on how to be a great mom.; so that I can in turn teach my daughter. This is her legacy.

  (Olivia, 2 1/2 yrs old October 2006)