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My Mom



Today is the birthday for my beautiful mother. She would be 83 years old if she were alive. I miss her horribly. It is harsh to think about her passing, so most of the time, I do not think about her passing.

Yet, that is not wholly true. I would be more accurate in saying I *try* to not think of her passing, the rushing to the hospital in the middle of the night after being awoken by the horrid phone call from the nurse saying I needed to get there right "away". The seeing of her lifeless body, but feeling the warmth still in her hands and in her face. Feeling her face gently with my hands, sobbing uncontrollably, but knowing I would never get the chance to feel her warmth again, nor her face. Staying in her presence until the hospital staff forced me out of the room a few hours later, saying they needed to clean the room.

But I want to try to think of her in all the other ways I knew my mother... instead of seeing only the harsh last moments. Yet, it is difficult for me to do so. The intensity of the harsh emotions seems to overpower the gentle happiness and friendship I so much love and miss from my beautiful mother. I would so much prefer to recall the wonderfully rich conversations and general small talk we would have with each other. Yet, those beautiful memories are hard to bring up, where as the fear, sadness and horror pop up easily and unexpectedly.

I miss you, Mom. I love you, Mom. I wish you would speak to me in my dreams so that I may feel your presence again at least in that way.

PipeTobacco