It was today, one year ago, that we lost Mom. Her spirit was dragged out from beneath our watchful eye, well before any of us were even prepared to let her go. We fought it on so many levels. She wasn’t ready. Neither were we.
The writer in me wants to pen something deeply profound; the son I will always be just wants an answer. But after one year, I am willing to accept two things: first, it will be a long time before I can even begin to describe the gaping void created that day, and second, I know full well that nobody will ever have the answer. Why Mom?
The truth is today I cannot pretend to be a writer. I am a grieving son. That will not change. So instead of trying to find the words to describe my loss, I’ll instead share the advice I received from a dear friend during her final days.
“Don’t just tell your Mom that you love her. Tell her why.” He knew, all too well, what I was going through.
“But mothers know,” I said. I wasn’t trying to bolster the argument that I was in denial. Didn’t matter, he knew I’d go there.
“This is true. But the why part isn’t for her. It’s for you. Tell her exactly why, sit down with her and tell her all the reasons, so on that day when you do have to walk away without her, you will know in your heart that she knew exactly why you loved her so much.”
I share this because I never had enough time to tell my Mom all the reasons why I loved her. Truth is, with her, that was another battle I was sure to lose. But I think my friend’s lesson can still serve me well. On this day, and each one going forward, I can find comfort knowing that the conversation isn’t really about how much I miss her, but why.