Saturday, December 18, 2010

2nd Anniversary of Mom's Death

I was going through photos tonight.  Going through the box of mementos from mom's death and funeral.  The newspaper from the day she died and her obituary on Christmas day.  All the cards from loved ones.  The bulletin from her funeral.  My letter to her.  The pink pants she wore to all my children's births.

Suddenly, I had a realization.  "Steve, what day is it today?"  And without having realized it, I was doing all this on the eve of her death-day.  I knew it was coming, but I'm bad about dates...and that wasn't what prompted my going through the box.  I was just feeling sentimental, and wanting to sift through some memories. 

Tomorrow, she will have been gone for 2 years.  Her granddaughter was a lap-baby when she died - only 4 months old.  And now she is a spirited nearly 2.5 year old who speaks complicated sentences, dances and runs, and gets more beautiful every day.

I suppose many would say she's missed so much already, and will miss even more.  But I'm not feeling that way - and I have no idea why that is, on a logical level.   What I feel, in a deep place of myself: There is still so much unexpected comfort in how near and vivid she truly feels to me.  Looking through those souvenirs of our life...the photos and other keepsakes...I felt like she was smiling along with me.

In truth, I don't really sense this is true.  Do I feel like her soul is lingering?  Not really.  Do I feel like I am haunted by this ghost of my mom?  No.  But that's what her life and her love for me created this imprint of her into me.  She is always, always there.

She would love seeing her grandbabies so much, I know.  And there's a part of me that aches for her to see them.  But there's a surprising part to the grief that loves what she did for them already; the elements that live on even after her.

This is how I want to live.  In a way that echoes beyond how long I'm physically here.  I want to comfort my children, love them, live in them...even after my body's machinery shuts down.

She would love how truly loved she is.  How often and how much she is remembered.  The fondness we feel towards her.  And how much her grandbabies speak about her.

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