This Mother’s Day 2019 is my tenth one without you.
I miss you.
Since you died I have to be honest, Mother’s Day has not felt right to me. Without you, I don’t know how to be on this day. For thirty-four years I knew, and then for the last ten, I don’t.
It isn’t for lack of having awesome kids of my own. How I wish you could know them as they are now. I imagine the scope of sports stats you would discuss with Full Speed would know no bounds. T.Puzzle would crack you up. A lot.
I didn’t exactly follow your parenting paradigm, but my boys were paradigm busters. They were/are firecrackers. I made it up as we went along. I had to. I didn’t have you to ask for advice.
I made mistakes. A lot of mistakes. So many mistakes. What I didn’t account for was the natural resilience of both my boys.
There really isn’t much I can do to mess that up. My best course of action is no action at all.
I’d like to think that some of your best qualities are reflected in both of them. Full Speed has your practical logic locked down. He has an uncanny ability to throw reason at me when I am hooked into an emotional arc of uncertainty. T.Puzzle’s quick wit often reminds me of you.
You always made me laugh.
I miss laughing with you.
If I could talk to you I’d like you to know that Mad Dog loves me for exactly who I am. You and I suspected he did, but time and living a life together has proven this as fact.
I’d want you to know that the Cubs finally won the World Series. My heart still aches that I couldn’t share that experience with you.
I was at game three and game five at Wrigley.
Not too shabby for a girl growing up in the cornfields of Illinois.
Sometimes I wonder who your current favorite player would be. My guess changes from season to season. I know you would love Javy but he’s a bit of a loose cannon. Maybe Schwarber for his gritty comeback? Maybe Zo with his MVP World Series run and his cool demeanor on the field and at the plate?
I wish I could talk baseball with you.
I wish I could tell you that I am a writer now. I have always been but now I sometimes get published. And sometimes the letters I configure on a page help others remember they are loved and moves them towards healing.
To me, that is grace.
To me, that is everything.
I would tell you that I love you. That you shaped me into the woman that I am. That because of you I love birds, baseball and the color blue.
I know that you sometimes couldn’t understand why I wore my heart on my sleeve but it’s okay, you are not alone in this. Now that I am older I realize my emotionality isn’t a choice, it is a way of being. It hurts me more to hide it, so I hide it less and less.
Either way, you’d love me. Either way, you loved me.
I still carry your voice in my heart and your love in my soul.
In many ways, you never left me.
I wish I could take you to the mountains. I wish I could sit next to you on a porch and listen to the birds calling each other home. I wish I could take your hand in mine, look you in your clear blue eyes and tell you what is true.
I love you, Mom.
Always have, always will.
Happy Mother’s Day.