Missing Pieces

Today marks six months since my mom passed away. (Sorry, I still struggle with saying “died”. “Passing away seems so much more peaceful.) It doesn’t seem possible to be that long already, as it seems like just yesterday that we were sitting in the ER consultation room waiting for someone to tell us what we already knew. There is not a day, not an hour, sometimes not a minute, that my mother is not in my thoughts. My brain still thinks to call her to tell her stories throughout the day, and then I have to remind myself that I can’t do that.

I miss my daily conversations with my mother. She was always so interested in what was going on in my life. She knew what was going on at work, my health, my diet, my house, my friends. She always loved my friends and was always looking for updates on any of them. She would have been thrilled that I went to see Dyanne in North Carolina and would have loved hearing about her and her family.

I miss calling to tell her I arrived somewhere safely, which I always did, because I knew she would worry if I didn’t.

I miss talking about recipes and kitchen gadgets. She was a great cook and an awesome baker. She loved hearing about all the new things I was trying and was always willing to sample my new dishes. She enjoyed reading my blog and was proud to share it (in paper form) with neighbors and relatives.

I miss hearing stories of what she and Ethan did during the day, and of their deep conversations. He told her things that he never told anyone else. He knew she would tell me, but that was ok. He just trusted Grandma in a special way and could talk to her about anything.

I miss her as the family historian…there have been so many things that have come up these past 6 months that I said “Mom would know”. Things I know she told us over the years, but we just couldn’t recall. We just remembered that she would have remembered.

I miss her laugh, her questions, her reminders. She was my memory, my to-do list. All I ever had to do was say “Mom, can you remind me later that I need to….” and she would never forget. I have had to resort to writing everything down… there are lists everywhere, in various stages of completeness.

I missed her happy birthday wish; she never forgot. I miss the smell of pies and cookies in her house and those favorite and special foods that we will never enjoy again.

I miss her debating politics with my husband. I was impressed with how much she followed what was going on in the world and how she held such strong convictions. She was so smart!

I miss her presence at family game night (she always participated!), and her presence at concerts. She always loved a Sousa march, so it’s tough playing those knowing that she isn’t in the audience to hum and clap along.

Most of all, I miss her unconditional love. I guess that’s what all the great moms do… love their children unconditionally. Not that she didn’t get mad or disappointed at times, but she always forgave and moved on from any of that. She believed in all of us and was so proud of her children and grandchildren. I hope that she is still proud of how we have gone on without her and that she knows how much we love and miss her.

Ethan and I stopped at the cemetery today and it always brings a tear to my eye the way he lays on top of grave, with his arms out, giving her a hug. He puts his head down on the grass and I can imagine his head on her shoulder. I know she feels those hugs. He always cuddled with her watching tv or playing games.

Here are two more of my favorite photos:

Mom EngagementMom

IMDb: Missing Pieces (2012)


12 thoughts on “Missing Pieces

  1. Your Mum sounds like she was a wonderful mentor and support in your life. I’m sorry for your loss.

  2. It’s been 15 years, 3 months since my “ma” passed away, and I miss her every single day for most of the same reasons. (((Michele)))

  3. Thinking about you and knowing how much you loved your Mom and how much you shared together. Even though you miss her so, you were so lucky to have had that kind of a relationship with her. Those memories will always be there to comfort when you need them most. Hugs.

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