I know, I know, I’ve been bad. My blogging has fallen by the wayside because of my other, more pressing endeavors… Jacq’s Rox & Jersey Shore Gourmet – but let’s not forget my real job – career in fact – a magnanimous & entertaining French & Spanish teacher.
Oh – and let’s not forget ebullient. Tee hee.
In any case, I have a lot on mind – some good, some bad – and my brain is often fried or vodkafied when I return to my quiet (only if my husband is out), cozy home – cat meowing and all.
My husband’s Uncle Joe just passed away. He was such a nice man. I’ll miss him. Death puts me into my own reflective and pensive world – too introspective for my own good. I start thinking about my mom, her death, her illness and how I could have been a better daughter.
Ok – the tears are here now.
I’ve written about my mom so many times because it comes from the heart and seems to be genuinely cathartic for me. AND if I can help someone along the way who is going through the same loss, I’m thrilled about it.
Mommy will be gone 7 years in February.
I can’t believe it’s been that long. It seems like yesterday yet sometimes so far away. There is not a day I don’t think about her, talk to her, cry to her and ask her for her strength. She was so strong. I’m not sure I can ever be the woman that she was – but I try to be the best woman that I can be. I think she’d be proud.
I want to share so many things with her every day but all I can hope for is that she’s listening to me from wherever she is and is channeling all her strength and fortitude my way. I still find myself picking up the phone to call her. Then I catch myself.
When you lose a parent it all makes sense. Not their death. Not their suffering. Your own life, as crazy as it may seem, starts to make sense. It’s like someone opened a window into your soul and you finally think about what’s important in life, in death and inside.
I will never stop missing my mother. I will never stop hoping that she is pain-free, at peace and watching over me (and my Dad too) as much as she can.
I think she’s watching like a hawk and still trying to guide me to make the right decisions.
If you knew Phyllis, I think you’d agree.
My mommy is still here with me.
From Heaven or from right above.
She never stops giving me love.
Mommy I miss you so.
I find it so hard to let go.
As I cry and write this poem.
I wish you were with us at home.
© 2011 J. H-M and CultureChoc2010.
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