I Needed Her Today

I remember a little over five years ago, I had just had my first little baby.  At the time I only lived a few miles from my Mom, so she came to stay for a few days to help.   The last weeks of my pregnancy I took early maternity leave.  During that time I napped, cleaned, did laundry and made prepared meals to stock the freezer.
The afternoon after I had my baby boy, I was upstairs taking a nap. When I came downstairs my Mom was making dinner.  I told her thank you but next time she can spare herself the trouble and use the thawing meal in the refrigerator next time. I was so proud of how prepared I was and wanted her to be proud of me, while I was trying to host her, although I had just had a baby. Let me just say what a complete idiot I was!
Instead we went in the other room and she started crying and said, "I don't feel like you even need me."  I didn't know what to say.  I was so concerned with appearing like I had everything together, I hadn't allowed my Mother to help me. Fiercely independent to a fault.
As I look back on the last five years all I can think is "I do need you Mom. I need you more than ever."
Today I took my little baby to school for his first day of kindergarten.  With a diagnosis of Autism since he was two I have given this child all I have had to give.  He is doing incredible but wouldn't you know he didn't want anything to do with his Mom today.  As I drove away with tears in my eyes and laughing that my boy was trying to be cool by being independent, like his Mom, I needed my Mom.  I needed her to laugh at my situation of me crying and Dane's indifference. To remind me that I was once the same way.  To call my little bug the stinker that he is and to laugh at him together. I needed her reassurance that I have done everything on God's green earth that I could have done for him, that he would be fine without me.  I needed her today as I felt like I was turning the page on a chapter of my life. I needed her to tell me that although he doesn't think he needs me, he does.....  just like I still need her.

Perfume & Pearls

Today I wore her perfume and pearls. Her perfume reminds me of her special nights out with Dad. I would watch her apply her makeup and get excited to wear it myself someday, to be like her.

She was beautiful. I remember thinking that as a little girl as she would get all dolled up. She would end the beauty regimen with a spritz of perfume. I would smell the scent as I rested my head on her shoulder as she would hold me in her arms, as a baby, a child, as a young woman. I loved her perfume mostly because it reminded me of her.

When she was out on a date with Dad, and I missed her I would go and smell her perfumes and play with her jewelry.

Today I was not playing, I am a woman myself now with my own makeup, perfume and pearls. But today I wore hers and it made me miss her even more. Happy Mother's Day Mom, I love you.

It's time

Today was a hard day. Mother's day often is, or at least has been for the last three years. My subconscious dreads it, and I don't realize it until usually Saturday night when I snap at my sweet husband over some miniscule thing. He then usually asks, "What is wrong Honey?" Over the years the reply has gradually changed from "Nothing," to a sincere "I don't know," to "Tomorrow is Mother's Day."

My mother Karen died over three years ago from brain cancer and I am still reeling in that loss. To be honest I don't think that I have dealt with it. I have been busy being a young mother myself to two small children and have pushed my grief down. I haven't done anyone any favors by doing this, especially myself.

So here I am on Mother's Day giving myself the gift of grief. The permission to mourn. The ability to talk or write about it and not worry who is listening or who cares. I care that my feelings are expressed, and hopefully on my journey of expression I will be giving myself the gift of healing.