On this day four years ago, I was sitting with my mom as she took her last breath in this world. After a year of battling cancer, and too many weeks of succumbing to its grip, she was ready, and finally, so were we. She was surrounded by her children, grandchildren, and her sweet husband. He had been by her bed for days serenading her nonstop with every song he knew on his ukulele. It was a deep and devastating outpouring of love I know she appreciated even though she never would have allowed that much ukulele playing in her presence on a normal day. Don’t get me wrong, she loved his sweet voice and encouraged his practice, but come on, we all have our limits:). Anyway, the point is, we loved her and she loved us, and while death can feel tragic, it can also be so very full of love.
I haven’t experienced particular anniversaries or holidays as especially sad; it has always been more of a constant dull ache with flare ups related to life events I reeeeaally wanted to share with her; like the birth of my son, and every day of motherhood. But last year, this day snuck up on me and hit like a bushel of bricks to the heart. This year, I was more prepared. I saw the anniversary approaching and used those moments of anticipation to remember her and all our good times.
A few days ago, I had a vivid dream with her. We had a leisurely visit; although I was lucid enough to appreciate how special and limited our time was. I really wanted her to tell me what to do, but as in life, she would not. She simply said she understood why I felt like I do and expressed her total love and support. I am still marveling at how satisfying the experience of feeling so totally understood was; even though what I thought I was seeking was an answer.
So today, on this anniversary I never wanted, I am still learning about true love from my Mom. I’ve already written about some of the things I’ve learned since she died, and I’m still appreciating new lessons and old memories of her as they come.
Don’t get me wrong, when she was alive, she drove me crazy. We drove each other crazy, right up to our very last days together. More than once over the course of my life I caught myself doing something “just like my mom” and stopped in horror, promising silently to myself that I would never do THAT again. Now that she’s gone, those moments are so much more precious. I savor the ways I am like my mother; even the ways I used to think were annoying or infuriating or weird. It is in those moments I feel closest to her. I remember her and notice all the ways she is still with me, and within me, and is me. It’s funny and wonderful how perspective can change everything.
I love you mom. I miss you more today than yesterday, and more tomorrow than today. And that’s okay. I am okay. I know you are too.
Love,
Jesse Dee
June 10, 2017 at 7:30 pm
My mom died on February 25th and I’m struggling. I’m so jealous when I hear people dream about their mom. I want to do badly!! I want her to come to me. I want to feel her with me and I just don’t. I still feel like I’m underwater! I’m the POA for my dad. He couldn’t live alone and I’ve had to put him in Assisted Living. I’ve also had to set up a trust and sell their home. I feel so alone without her. I’m married to a wonderful man and have a grown son … well almost! (19) I talked to her 2-3 times a day. I wish that phone would ring just one more time!!
June 11, 2017 at 6:02 pm
Paige, Hang in there! If it’s not too weird for you, talk to her out loud in your quiet moments. Think about what she might say to your questions. Trust that she is there. You might enjoy this post I wrote as well – I spoke about being mad at my mom for not “haunting” me…https://starbimaging.wordpress.com/2016/11/17/5-things-i-know-because-my-mom-died/
June 10, 2017 at 2:29 pm
I lost my mother on March 14. Mother’s Day this year was my first Mother’s Day without her and the day that marked two months since she was gone. I didn’t have time to get ready to see her go, everything was so sudden and unexpected, I had no time to bevprepared (although I don’t think how could you ever be prepared!) Last night, for the first time since she’s been gone, she visited me in my dreams and hugged me strongly while I was crying and telling her how much I miss her. I woke up crying like a baby. I miss her so much. I enjoyed your post, specifically when you say “it has always been more of a constant dull ache…” We will never be the same, will we?
June 11, 2017 at 5:59 pm
Marta, I wish you many more visits with your Mom in your dreams… such a special gift.
June 10, 2017 at 5:10 am
“it has always been more of a constant dull ache with flare ups related to life events I reeeeaally wanted to share with her”
So very well said!!!!
June 11, 2017 at 5:57 pm
Thank you, LC!
March 22, 2017 at 6:21 pm
Hi,
i enjoyed your posting. My name is Kelsey, I’m 22. I lost my mom a year Ago as i seen her take her last breath. It’s hard, I do see her a lot in my dreams, or birds flying by. I was wondering if you have an email i could message you on.
March 23, 2017 at 9:45 pm
Hi Kelsey, I just emailed you. Glad you enjoyed this post. I enjoyed writing it!
March 7, 2017 at 7:32 pm
So beautifully said, Jesse. I know your mother was very special, and the most powerful proof of that is that she raised an amazing daughter like you. As was said by someone else, I hope my own daughters would remember me in the same way.
Please remember that I love you as my own and, although it’s far from the same, I am always here for you. Good times or bad, I’m here.
March 7, 2017 at 7:59 pm
Thank you, Vikki. I love you too!
March 7, 2017 at 3:47 am
What a touching tribute to your Mother…You continue to make her proud. I hope my daughter will remember me someday with this much love and admiration in her heart.
March 5, 2017 at 6:15 am
Jesse I loved what you shared about Kathy. I miss her too and still at times want to pick up the phone and call her.
I am so proud of who you and Jason, the spiritual people you are, the parents you are💖☘🙏🏻💚🦋