Mother’s day isn’t a huge holiday in our house. We are mom-less in every sense. I’m not a mom, and that’s fine and we’ve both lost our moms.
Robert, my husband, lost his mom in his thirties and it seems like my mom left the building a few hours ago, when it has been 4 years.
Missing someone can linger for a lifetime. Recently, I wrote a ton of words about my father who is also gone. As I finished that story, my thoughts jumped to my mom.
This is the dedication to an unfinished book about missing my mom:
My mother loved to read books, she loved to read a book series even more. The more books an author offered the better. She preferred a story with less characters, but really well developed characters. She liked when the author gave so much detail about the characters that they became her friends.
When she read more complicated plots, she used a 3x5 index card as a bookmark and she wrote down the names and an occasional fact as she flipped the page. It wasn’t that she couldn’t remember or keep up. She did it to study. She wanted to get to know the book. A few years before she died, she told me that the house could have burned down (with the kids inside) while she read a book.
She got lost in a book just like the catchy literary campaign. She also mourned the characters when she closed the last page of a book, when it was all over she missed the friends she was just getting to know.
Mother, this is for you, I know that you are reading my stories from a library with endless selection of books and just the right amount of noise for you.
Happy mother’s day to all the mothers and know you will always be in the hearts and minds of your children from here to eternity.
Picture: 2002: "Mom smiling"
An old school selfie, before the iPhone, during a hike in Portugal. I turned the camera around and tried to capture our heads and the view. I snapped it after she said, “You're going to push us both off the ledge.” We'd laugh a similar laugh and I knew I caught her smiling.