This blog entry is a tribute to my mom. I have been missing her very, very much lately. Grief comes in waves, even after 20 years. I usually cover up my emotions, but I have tried to be more truthful and transparent in the past few years. I am hoping that by "putting myself out there" that I will not only heal a little more, but maybe help someone else in the process.
I've never done this, written a letter to you. Will it reach you in heaven? I have so many questions for you. Do you know that I have a wonderful husband who is also an excellent father? Do you know that I have three children, your grandchildren? And that two of them are BOYS! I know that is one area you wouldn't have been able to help me out with, the raising of boys since you raised three girls, but would you have doted on them?
Is there a window in heaven that you can peer through to see how we're doing? Were you there through the births of all my children? Would you have been there if you could? We were so far away from family, it was always only Darrell and I, but were you also there with us?I remember how loud you used to cheer for Dad when he played softball. Do you cheer for us from heaven? Do you let a tear slide down when we're going through trouble? Do you sigh when we make the mistakes that you wanted to warn us about?Do you know that I see glimpses of you......through Evan's sense of humor......
and Ann-Marie's sense of determination in everything she does.....
and Alec's free-spirited, exuberant ways? I see you in my children and through Carla and Sheila's children, evidences of you being lived out in your grandchildren.
You see, I took you seriously when you said you always wanted to travel, so I did it for you. I took you seriously when you said finish college and see the world. But doing those things didn't bring you back, but I like to think that you were somehow with me, bringing closure to a life cut short.
So, no, the grieving never ends, it just changes and the edges become less sharp with time. But sometimes, I don't want to be the mom, be the strong one, and I want to go running back into your arms. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like, to be friends with you as an adult, to have you as a Grandma to my children. Would we have a good relationship? Would you come to visit us often? Would you send letters and little gifts to my children and offer to babysit?
And finally, do you know that I am sorry. For being the bratty teenager when you died, for not saying "I love you" enough when you were alive. I know now, how much you did, how much you sacrificed, how much you loved us. Because I have a family now and I understand the intensity and complexity of a mother's feelings for a child. And I miss you so very much. So, maybe you received this letter through the window of heaven. If not, I believe that I will see you again, and maybe you'll be able to answer all my questions. And maybe, by then, they just won't matter because I will understand the fullness of the love and the plans fulfilled, even if I don't understand them now.
I love you, Mommy,
Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV) "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."