Every year, on August 28th, my world doesn’t stop; I still get up, and go about my day. But the day is shadowed by a little bit of sadness. My day yesterday began like every other Sunday. I got up, brushed my teeth, let my dogs out, got ready and we headed off to the grocery store. 12 years ago, though my day started off never knowing how much my world was going to change that day. As a 13 year old, how could you really put losing a parent into perspective? My mother had been in a coma going on three weeks, but you never really think that you’re going to be the girl starting school that year, leaving early to go to your mother’s funeral.
I used to let myself slip into a “dark day”, but as I’ve gotten older, grown up significantly, I take the day to reminisce throughout the day. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to terms with some things:
She wasn’t there when I had my first heartbreak, or even my second.
She didn’t get to teach me how to drive.
Watch me get ready for prom.
Listen to drunken ramblings late nights in college.
Help me pack up my childhood home, and say hello to a new chapter in my life.
Be there when I signed the dotted line and bought my first home.
Then I think about how she won’t be there when I get engaged, get married and start a family.
It hurts, I’m not going to lie. Some days I just want to pick up the phone and call her. Especially as time goes on, because it’s been so long since I heard her voice, I’m not even sure I can really remember it. My girlfriends are my rocks and without them, I think I might go crazy, but sometimes I just want to talk to my mom.
My mother and I had a pretty special bond, as most single mothers and their daughters have. So yesterday, I chose to not be sad. I chose to look back on all the good times my mom and I shared. I’m eternally grateful for these memories and although my mother’s physical presence wasn’t at the events I listed above, or the future ones, I know that she is there in spirit. One thing I feel so strongly every day.
I love you, Mom.