Mother's Day

Words cannot describe how much I miss my Mom. Not just today, but every day. In the last 11 months, I have staggered up the predictable ladder of grief that they tell you about in hospice. Numbed with disbelief, saddened by reality, angered by the theft, shocked at my own emotional fragility, hollowed by the absence of her laugh. Today, I stepped back to angry, although it is aimed in an entirely different direction. Away from the world in general, today, I am sending my anger to Hallmark. They set me up. The thing is, I knew they were setting me up. Like a impending train wreck that you predict from miles down the track, you cannot stop the train, you simply brace yourself for the upcoming impact.

My protective padding is cushioned in the warm memories of tenderly designed handmade cards, endless hugs and kisses, breakfast toast nibbled in bed, vases stuffed with yellow dandelions picked and presented with huge and innocent love. There is nothing greater in this life than the honor of being a mother to them and a daughter to her. It is that gratitude, delicately mixed with the strength that she instilled in me, that will get me through this day.