Guess I gotta make this blog cry…
It has now been four years since my mother passed, as I’ve told you before. With each day, week, month and year, I mourn but I try and push through as she would want. I struggle to keep her ultimate legacy, her family, intact to mixed results. Of course it is the last quarter of the year it’s the hardest, she passed in September, her birthday in October, and then of course the holidays and gaping void that exists at those most intimate family moments. I can’t help but think back to that last afternoon, four years ago, with hindsight as that would be the last conversation, I or anyone would have with her. In the back of my mind I felt it would be, but I didn’t want to believe it. I take solace in the fact that her last words were that she loved me, but again, what would I have took that opportunity to say to her knowing I would never have that chance again? What would I say now?
I would thank her. For everything. She was my source of confidence, my number one fan, my inspiration. She helped make me into the man I am today. I was only 21 when she left, what happens now as I near my late 20s and things start to get real. My wife will never get her seal of approval, my children will never know their nana, I’ll never be able to get her a house. That’s the crazy thing about life, it just keeps going on. I’m eternally grateful for the 21 years I had her, but it’s still a troubling thought to think about the next 21 without her. She lost her mother young and even as she left town, married and had 5 children there were moments where she just felt empty that her mother wasn’t there to see her life’s work. I think about everything that’s happened in the past 4 years, I finally listened to her and got into a long term relationship, I finished school with little to no help, now I would’ve been able to take care of her if needed.
I still think back to that last conversation. What if she knew it would be the last one? What would she say to me differently, what would she want me to pass on to my siblings, what did she always want me to know? She was only 47 when she left, her baby had just turned 20, she was able to hold each of her two grandchildren, but there was so much life ahead. Would she had found love again, she never saw any of us get married, she never got to celebrate 50. Would defeating cancer gave her a new lease on life, would she had battled the demons within? Would she ever mended the bridges that burned? I’ll never know. She’ll never know. I can only hope she left feeling fulfilled, and that she’s truly looking down with pride.