My mother left us one year ago this coming Saturday.
It seems impossible that it has been a year. A year of wanting to hear her voice. A year of firsts without her. Her grandsons' birthday parties with no Grandma. Her Fourth of July birthday. A Mother's day without sending her a card, or getting one from her. Christmas. Thanksgiving. A year of catching my breath and either breaking into a smile or unexpected tears when I come across a photo of her without prepping myself. Intentionally looking at more photos. Knowing how much she would have loved hearing her grandson singing Danny Boy at a concert. Trying not to think of all the things we won't have her for in the coming years, the graduations, weddings... And trying SO very, very hard to be the kind of mother she was.
The boys sometimes ask in their prayers that God tell her "Hello" and that our beloved dog Gnash is snuggling in her lap in heaven.
She would have adored seeing my boys in kilts for the Highland Festival. Or hearing my oldest read a poem for the Veterans on Memorial Day at the National Cemetery. Seeing my youngest in his Cub Scout Uniform reciting the oath. I believe, in my heart, that she does see these things; I guess I selfishly miss seeing her see them with me ~ with my family. Dear God, I miss her every day.
