As a little girl, maybe 6 or 7 years old, I recall Mothers Day being one of my most anticipated days of the year. It was the time I felt I was free to worship my hero. I knew despite anything that happened,I would be on my best behavior. I would do everything to please my mom. As a little girl, striding into the small town store, Reny's for those who know what it is, empowered by the money securly tucked into a pocket. Such pride and indecisive want. My mother deserved the best, shiniest, most prized gift. Rather it was a tacky chatzky ornamnet or the best barrette I could find, she was worth it. As years moved forward, and I grew along with them, the gifts changed. The sentiments changed. I would clean everything in sight, cook her the most gourmet meal I could muster and do her every whim. Until the year of MY 15th Mothers Day. There was no 15th Mothers Day for me to celebrate. My mother died 2 days prior in 1992. She was buried the day after Mothers Day, tucked inside her casket were little gifts from her daughters. My sisters handmade cards, my poem. It was for our own selfish reasons, as I am certain they did her very little where she was.
17 Mothers Days have passed withour her, for 14 of them I have been a mom. And yet I dread the coming of the day with grief I can't truly explain to anyone around me. It isn't that I don't love to celebrate with my children, I do. I have always done for my partners/spouses mother with as much gusto as a heartbroken woman can gather. Nothing is my mom. Nothing patches that gaping hole left behind. Today we all piled into my car and drove to Darkness' parents. We had dinner with his parents, presented his mom an afghan I had plugged away at. She loved it, which made me feel happy. The kids have started making themselves at home there and the weather broke just enough for the kids to run off energy from an hour long car ride. It was very nice, but made me ache. I miss the woman withall the heartache a girl can feel. I always will. There is no part of me that does not wish to tell her I love her, miss her and wish she were here to see her grandkids. So the gift to my mom this year:
Dear Momma,
It has been so very long since the day you died. Sometimes I can pretend it wasn't long ago so I don't miss you as much. So much has happened to me, in my life in the years. I don't think as much matters, besides the birth of my kids, as the last year.
Brittanie is beautiful. She has the most expressive blue eyes, she speaks through them in a way I have seen in very few people. She has a noble heart and will stand up for everyone who needs a boost. She will change many lives one day. She has dealt with far more than any child should, but that is what makes us close. She buried her dad, albeit she was younger than I, but we can ache for each other in a way that bonds.
Elijah is a special sort. He is struggling to find his own, in time I am sure he will, but for now he muddles. He is so artistic. He draws and tells amazing stories. Very creative in his young mind. I just know that he will find a way to make a living off being creative and love it all the way. He is like that, determined.
Polly is the most demure of the 4. No shrinking violet, but shy and reserved until you earn her affection. I think she would be the one who would always find her way to your lap, asking as many questions as you would tolerate. Her imagination is much bigger than her presence and she can turn anything into a game. In time, she will find what is right for her. She is smart though, no worries there.
Nick, well Nick is a self proclaimed redheaded devil. And I do believe he means it. If there is a way to find mischief or dirt, Nick finds it. He rarely menas harm, but is so over exuberant in everything he does, he bumps and knocks and roughs everyone up. Nick would be the one in the kitchen under foot, begging just one more cookie nana.....
And me, your second daughter. Your Mae West. I will have you know, I never grew into the body you assured I would leave behind, someday. I still am curved and flared and well, "just right for birthing babies" And I did mom, I don't think either of us could have predicted the 4 of them. I wouldn't have it any other way. All I could ask for was your being here. I managed to eventually go to school, I now touch lives everyday as a home health aid. Which seems like one of those shit jobs to so many, but everyone deserves a little dignity, don't they? I actually work full(ish) time now. And come home and be mommy too. And clean and cook and well, I do what every other mom has to do.
I divorced last year. I can't say he was a totally bad guy, we just couldn't be married. I wish I would have figured that out BEFORE we got married and then not let it drag so long. He is not all a bad guy and does well at fathering his children. It was a sad failure to me, not so much to me, but more because if I had been stronger, clearer and less selfish it would have been less traumatic to all of us.
Not at all the least of my things to tell you, is well Darkness. I don't know the how or why story of how we got here, but here we are. It all started as meaningless conversation, which turned to thoughtful discussions, to coffee. I guess if you see someone as your friend with no threat involved, no pressure, no motive, it lends to a greater understanding. Empathy and friendship led us to where we are. I can't say for sure what you would have thought, but I think there would have been a liking.
So momma, I guess this is all the updates I have for you. There have been so many moments in the years I wish I could have picked up the phone and called with a question. I could have come to you and just cried in your arms. I wish you had been there to hold 4 newborn grandkids, to watch me marry and divorce. To watch me fail and suceed. To watch me learn to drive, to finally master crochet and sewing. To watch me plant and grow my first garden. To watch me be me. Your daughter. There is nothing in this woprld that touches you, nothing will ever replace you for me. I love you and miss you, always.
Tina
