May 17th

Today would have been my mom’s sixty-sixth birthday. For those who don’t know, my mom died fourteen years ago on January 7th after a year-long fight with lung cancer. She was a wonderful woman who loved to shop and laugh and loved being with her grandchildren.

I miss my mom every day of my life. I miss being able to pick up the phone when I need advice or just to share what happened in my day. I miss hearing her talk. I miss her voice. I miss our shopping trips where I would watch her go through the racks in the Land of the Little People (aka the Petite section) with the skill of a seasoned sale shopper. It was amazing how she could find the most amazing outfits and always save money. She had great style and would die to know that sometimes I leave the house with very little makeup and a baseball hat on. She was one of those women who, even while fighting cancer, looked beautiful all the time.

For the past couple weekends I have been teaching my fourteen year old daughter how to sew. We have gone through the entire process of picking out a pattern, finding fabric to cutting out the pattern and fabric and sewing all the pieces together. This is a skill my mother taught me at just about the same age. I’m happy to report that my daughter isn’t quite as resistant to all the tedious parts as I was.

I inherited my mom’s last sewing machine when she died. She had just helped me sew some items for my daughter’s nursery. My daughter had yet to be born when Mom died but her handiwork was all over that nursery. Because she knew that sewing machine would soon be mine, Mom made a huge effort to teach me about some of the features. While trying to figure out how to make a button-hole last weekend I dragged out the manual and found a wonderful surprise. I found notes, written by my mom, to help me with the settings on the buttonhole feature. It made me smile to see her perfect handwriting. It was almost as if she was still there to guide us through.

I often wonder what life would have been like if my mom was still here. I wonder what direction our lives would have taken. Would she be proud of me for raising such and amazing daughter (although I don’t take credit for what I believe to be just a wonderful character that is my daughter)? What would she think of the decisions I have made and what kind of guidance would she have given me during these difficult times? I think about this a lot and hope that, for the most part, she understands and supports my decisions.

As of the 14th my mom has a new granddaughter. As happy as I am about this beautiful new addition to our family I am sad that my mom will never get to meet her as she never got to meet my little girl. More importantly there are two girls who will never get to meet their grandmother and know for themselves what an extraordinary woman she was. I am grateful that there are plenty of people in their lives including my brothers and their cousins, as well as myself, who will be happy to tell them about their grandmother.

I close out this day and this post with my mother very much in my thoughts. I love you Mom and miss you way more than words will ever express.