Missing My Mom Today

There are days I miss my mom more then others. Like today. I think about her constantly but there are times when a song or a phrase can trigger the memory of a precise moment in time. That song or phrase has the power to make me a little girl again, even for just a few seconds and I get the joy of reliving a really great moment with my beautiful mother. She absolutely loved music. If I have anything retro(love that phrase btw lol) playing inevitably it will evoke a sweet memory.

But then there are the dreams. Early on after she died I literally would pray to God to let me dream about her, and I did. A few times. Even now I only dream about her occasionally. Last night though I was able to dream about her. "Thank you God."  It was a silly dream. We were in Las Vegas of all places, riding in a limo. I was pointing out sights, but more interestingly I was pointing out important people to my life. "Oh mom look there's ______. You remember _______ don't you? I wish you would have been able to meet _______ before you left." We were having a great time, but I never was able to see her face. That is how it is in my dreams anymore. I can touch her and hold her soft hands but I can't see her face. Unfortunately that is how it was when she was alive too. I know now how I took her for granted and never took the time to really SEE her. I mean she was my mom after all. Right? What more was there to know?

(My mom, Marsha, watching over her niece and nephew.)

If somebody back then had presented me with a long list of questions about her I probably would have been able to answer them. Even the ones asking about her hopes and dreams, but when I looked at her then I still just saw my mom. My mom/best friend. That was all that was important to me.  Now things are different. When I have a distinct memory where I am able to imagine her or even when I look at a photograph I don't see just my mom. I see all the many things she was to so many people. I see all the reasons why so many people still love her. I see the reason why my dad is still in love with her ghost after all this time and why there never EVER could be another. I see why his heart is broken. When I "look" at her now I see a smart woman who accumulated a lot of friends and memories in her life. I see not only a wonderful mother but an amazing wife, grandmother, daughter, sister, aunt and friend, to all of us that loved her.

She was my "go to" person on everything, which I think is typical for most mother daughter relationships. I had a question about my children? Why open a book when I can go to my mom? A question about marriage, God, groceries, cars, animals, wounds..... you get the picture. I would go to my mom, and yes occasionally she would tell me to open a book. To be honest I didn't always follow her advice. For a lot of years after I lost my "go to" person I would either just figure it out on my own or leave it be. Not something I recommend. I also was very stingy with her memory. I would love to sit and visit about her with somebody that loved her like I did, but there was no way I would waste a precious memory on say a co-worker or a neighbor who "gasp" had no clue the person she really was. But now I am beginning to enjoy sharing stories about her to everyone. I love telling them to Mallorie, who loves hearing them just as much. With my being able to share her I also have managed to partially fill her void with many "go to" people now.

Now over the years I have accumulated a nice, long list of highly important questions for her, ones that I always thought only she could answer. So lucky for you all that most of you reading this blog are my "go to people". I know that I will simply put the questions on here, presenting them to you and get the amazing answers that I need. Right? But most importantly I feel like the "go to" people in my life are the people I love and that love me back. I am fortunate to have you all.

It is a wonderful Friday for me. I believe I will enjoy a cup of coffee then turn on some Manilow or Bee Gees and Mal and I can boogie our way to a clean(somewhat) house. Just like my mom and I used to do.

Terrie