Wildflowers

As I bask in the amazing love of my children, who remind me every day how very blessed I am, sweet memories of my own mother saturate my heart – an unsuccessful, yet lovely, attempt to fill the void left by her absence. Today marks the 17th Mother’s Day without my Mom who passed away on her 59th birthday. I can remember the day, the hour, the minute that she passed, a piece of my heart dying in symphony with hers. Never have I sensed the fragility of life so acutely, the seemingly tangible pain of letting go gripping my heart as she slipped away. The moment is etched forever in my memory. With it, locked away in a corner of my heart, the precious memories we shared sit like a sweet, fragrant sea of wildflowers – beautiful, vibrant, captivating. A place I can go and run free, collect memories and get lost in them. Intoxicating.

Today I have spent much time in the wildflowers, letting memories wash over me like a cool spring rain. It is a place that I cling to, tighter with each passing year. I have so many experiences I would love to share with her, precious moments meant exclusively for the two of us. There are times when I want nothing more than to pick up the phone and call her – to share exciting events, to ask for advice, to cry on her shoulder or to just hear her voice. It was that same voice I heard each and every morning (like clockwork), and that I came to crave like a caffeine fix to start the day.

If I close my eyes for a minute I can imagine the smile on mom’s face as she watched her grandchildren graduate from high school and college and, even, walk down the aisle. To say that she would be proud is an understatement. I can see the smile – wide as the ocean – as clearly as the moon on a cloudless night. I cling to these visions like a life raft, and they catapult me to the sea of wildflowers … and it is intoxicating …

I love you, mom.