Yesterday, April 3, 2011. Yesterday marked the three year anniversary of your passing. I didn't cry. I thought about it, but I didn't. I think your birthday this month always hits me much harder than the day of your passing. Instead of crying, I tried to fill my day with happy thoughts and busy projects to keep me going. I realize now that's how I've spent most of the past three years, keeping busy and trying not to think too hard about the pain. I know it isn't healthy and I know it probably isn't right. You always did say I was more like my father in that respect. In the end I want to remember the good times we had, not the pain or the bad times or even the moments when you were at your weakest. To me you've always been an incredibly strong woman and I want that vision fresh in my memory at the forefront. I miss you more than I can convey in words. We eat lunch together everyday, you and I, and Mike in the dining room. When I sit at the table I inherited from you I take time to glance up into the glass secretary cabinet where I keep all things fragile, sacred and important. You sit in a special urn next to images from your wedding day and of your aunts, my "grandmothers" and my brass baby shoes. It's sad to think that is all that is left of you, but comforting to know you are close to me not just in spirit but in an actual tangible form.
It's been hard not having your near. I can't even tell you how many times I have had questions and wanted to call you, celebrated milestones or even watched shows like 'Say Yes to the Dress' and been angry at the girls fighting with their loved ones over a dress, then I realize that when that day comes for me, I won't have a loved one to fight with. Possibly only friends or Dad. Then I realize that might be a good thing - do you remember all the times I was a bitchy brat about prom dresses? In the end I'd rather have you there to bicker over the way the dress falls on my body than not have you there at all. This is the stuff that I think about, funny huh?
I miss you mom. Every single day. I want you to know that even though I laughed a lot yesterday while I floated down the creek in my kayak with friends and sipped on frozen beverages. I thought of you. I looked up in the sky every so often and thought of you.
I love you and wish I had you near but I know you are safe, free of pain or heartbreak and at peace, at last.
In loving memory of my mother, Marjorie.