February, 1980 - My mom eagerly waiting my arrival.
I am a daughter, sister, wife and friend. Being a mother has never been on my to do list, but what an incredible job. I have great admiration for all moms out there. I don't think there is anything that is more challenging, nor rewarding. Honoring moms one day a year hardly acknowledges all they do for us - they should really be celebrated every day. The least we can do is tell them how much their love and sacrifices mean to us. I know I told my mom over the years, but I, now, know the extent of which I took her for granted. The void I've felt for the last 233 days is proof.
I was pretty independent from a young age. After being an only child for seven years, I so desperately wanted a brother or sister. When I got both, I was over the moon. I had more interest in tending to them than being a kid myself. I took on a great deal of responsibility, I was self-reliant and didn't need much guidance. And that didn't change as I entered adulthood. I never felt the need to go to my mom with the little things or the big ones. I just sailed along; I'd casually mention when things were particularly great or when I'd meet bumps in the road. It wasn't until she was gone that I realized that I never really needed her because she was always there.
It becomes so apparent when you can't just pick up the phone, send a text or email. You try so hard to fill that void with memories. I find myself grasping for as many as I can recall. I dig through old photos desperate to fill in blanks and recover forgotten times. The worst part is no new memories can be made. All I can do is cling to those I gathered over my 35 years, and wish for more. So, this Mother's Day, I ask that you take a moment on Sunday and let your mom know you care. This could be with a phone call, laughs over brunch or a longer hug that usual when you say hello or part for good bye.
You'll earn bonus points if you snap a photo of mom when you celebrate this year. One day, it's sure to be the greatest gift to your future self. Take the time to record the memories that will later be cherished by you and loved ones.
If your mom is anything like mine, she was never fond of having her photo taken. Growing up, she was always the one behind the lens. When I found the love of photography she'd so rarely stay in frame, mostly she'd squirm away or conveniently vanish the moment a camera was in sight. Fortunately, I was rather sneaky and I nearly doubled the photos of her since Nick was born. I suppose the joy of her grandchild distracted her from the click of the shutter, and boy am I glad too. Those are the photos we'll turn to when we tell Addison and Alexis about their "Horsey Grandma" and the ones I will hold most dear.
And to the motherless, this mother's day honor your mom the best way you know how. Maybe by telling a favorite story, reminisce over old photos or carry on a tradition? It will be hard, but no more difficult than every day that's passed since she were last able to tell her, "I love you."