As Mother’s Day Nears

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When you look at your mother, you are looking at the purest love you will ever know.

Recently, I read a book that perfectly addressed my current status as an “orphan.”

You’ll recall I lost my mom in February.

You can’t lose your mother.

For One More Day by Mitch Albom tells the story of a son, caught between divorcing parents and choosing his dad; eventually, he loses his mom to death … but has a chance — for one day — to reunite with her and understand/make up for his failings.

Let’s just say right here, right now, I cried through the entire book, okay? It was that moving.

While some kids have a troubled, difficult relationship with their moms, I was one of the fortunate ones.

Mom and I got along.

Sure, we had our disagreements. And yes, we stomped on each other’s heart periodically. Angry words flew. Doors got slammed. And hours would pass when only silence prevailed between us.

But we always made things right.

And I’m glad we did because there’s no way I’d want to live with the guilt that surely must come from failing to forgive a parent for their honest mistakes and shortcomings.

It’s such a shame to waste time. We always think we have so much of it.

Mom wasn’t perfect. She’d have been the first to acknowledge that. But as a child grows into adulthood, it seems prudent to put aside childish things (like the old Smothers Brothers skit of “Mom loved you best”). To accept that every child is loved, individually yet differently, to the best of a parent’s ability.

Children forget that sometimes. They think of themselves as a burden instead of a wish granted.

I think of acquaintances who lost their moms early on and how hard it must have been for them.

Not having mom around to pick you up when you stumble. To remind you how long to cook something. To remove a splinter from your finger when it’s on your “good” hand. To suggest that not wearing blue eye shadow might be a better look.

Mom. When death takes your mother, it steals that word forever.

Today I’ll think of previous years when I bought Mom flowers, a card, a gift. I’ll think of taking her out to eat. And I’ll kick myself,  just a little, for not doing more.

Because I miss her and always will.

Just to hear Mom laugh again. To smell her perfume. To feel her arms wrapped around me. That would be a blessing.

When someone is in your heart, they’re never truly gone. They can come back to you, even at unlikely times.

Note: All quotes taken from For One More Day by Mitch Albom.

Note2: To all those celebrating, Happy Mother’s Day (and please give your moms an extra hug from those of us who can no longer hug our own moms!)

27 thoughts on “As Mother’s Day Nears”

    • I think you’re right. I talked to a lady on my walk with Monk this morning, and she said she lost her mom ages ago … and still misses her every day. It’s nice having good memories of Mom that I can keep visiting, even though memories are all I’ve got now. Sigh.

  2. “Let’s just say right here, right now, I cried through the entire book, okay? It was that moving.”

    Debbie, I would have reacted that same way. In fact, I got teary-eyed just reading that. And not only that, but this entire post, which you expressed honestly and so beautifully.

    You and I seem to have had the same relationship with our mothers because much of what you said, I echo.

    I lost my mother back in 2012, and I still miss her greatly. There are many times I can still feel her close to me. I still talk to her and tell her how much I cherished her. And although she was my step-mother, I always thought of her as my birthmother because we shared such an immediate and close bond.

    Thank you for sharing this gorgeous post, my friend! Wishing you Happy Mother’s Day!

    X

    • It’s been a dozen years since you lost your mom, Ron? Wow, time really flies, doesn’t it? I recall your post about what a good mom she was to you and how close you two were. You can’t ask for much more. She inherited an instant family and did so much better than simply making do — she really taught you how to love and be loved, how to value yourself, and how to make the most of your talents. What a selfless person she must’ve been — and how fortunate you were to call her Mom! Wishing you a Happy Mother’s Day, my friend! xx

  4. Have you read Mitch Albom’s Tuesdays with Morrie? That was my introduction to him, and it was an equally unforgettable book. I didn’t realize he’d written about parent/child relationships as well, but he clearly did a fine job of it.

    Like you, I had a basically good relationship with my mother, although she had certain personality characteristics that could be trying, and a background that explained some of her behaviors. I’m mostly sorry that I didn’t know more about her background as I was growing up, but eventually that knowledge came, and by the time she was gone, we’d mended a lot of fences. I sure would give anything to have one more day with her — not to mention one more day with my dad — but we can hope that they’re in a position now to know our hearts.

    • I’ve been looking for “Morrie,” but I haven’t found a copy yet. I’m going to keep trying though. I’ve read many of his other books and can honestly say I haven’t found any of them lacking. Some probably aren’t scripturally-based, of course, but I don’t think they’re meant to be.

      Yes, I get what you’re saying about moms being sometimes trying. Mine was, too. She always was a “my way or the highway” sort of person, and that sort of stance just rubs teenagers the wrong way, ha! I imagine “one more day” with either her or Daddy would only make me miss them more. As it is, at least I’ve got good memories!

    • Aw, Laurie, I’m so sorry. It seems to me that losing one’s parents forces you to grow up really fast. The younger generations of kids, nieces, nephews, and so forth now look to YOU as the “wise older one,” and that’s scary. Sometimes I don’t feel so wise — or old, ha!!

  6. Thank you for this lovely post. As I’ve mentioned before, I lost my mom when I was a teenager so it “ruined” this holiday for me for years. Then I had kids of my own and I had to adjust my attitude.

    Let go of any “should have” thoughts. They’re pointless! I have a feeling your mother knew just how much you loved her. Hugs to you on this first holiday without her in body.

    • Kelly, I’m glad you’ve readjusted your thoughts about Mother’s Day. Sure, it’s hard losing our moms, but it’s nice for our kids to shower us with their love (and I imagine they’d miss out on a lot if we refused to celebrate the day).

      Thanks for your advice to drop the “shoulds” and relax, knowing Mom knew my love for her. I wish she’d stuck around long enough, though, for me to be sure of that!

    • I’m enjoying such a beautiful day — perfect sunshine and temperatures, for a change! Hope your Mother’s Day is lovely, Eliza.

  9. Mother’s Day, birthdays, Christmas – they’re all so hard when we’re grieving. I hope you had a good day, Debbie. It gets easier, I promise.

    • Thanks for the encouragement — it’s much appreciated. I know it’s gotten easier, living with the fact that Daddy and Dallas have passed on (though I’m sure I’ll always miss them). It’s still pretty raw for Mama, though (I guess three months really isn’t enough time for feelings to quit hurting).

  10. It sounds like a very moving book, perhaps I’ll get it out of the library. When we’re little our mothers were like goddesses to us and then as teens most of us get disillusioned. But when we mature we forgive them for being human, after all, and can share a much more meaningful and deep bond. Mothers Day is always bittersweet for me, still missing my mother but enjoying being the adored mother now. ♡

    • I don’t think you’ll be disappointed if you can find the book in your library, Barbara. It’s a relatively short read — just be sure you have a tissue or two handy! I like the way you’ve shown how important our mothers were to us as youngsters, how complicated things become as we move through our teens, and how (if we’re lucky and work through it) our relationship settles and matures as we do.

  11. I think I would like that book. I know I liked your post! The first mother’s day or father’s day without that parent is the hardest. I remember after both my father and father-in-law died, I was in the store in early June and automatically headed for the card section to buy a father’s day card. And then it hit me: I had no one to buy a father’s day card for…..

    • Exactly!! I had my first “melt-down” in the card shop, when I noticed all the Mother’s Day cards — and no one to buy for. For some reason, many stores this year asked if I’d like to skip their Mother’s Day promotional texts and such (which I gratefully did). It’s nice when companies are attuned to the difficulty of “celebrating” when you’re grieving.

  12. Debbie, What a heartfelt, touching post. I can imagine how much you miss your mom. I keep trying to capture the memories of my mom knowing that our time is limited. We were so fortunate to be raised with the love of our moms who helped nurture us, so we could go on to become strong, independent women blazing our own new trails.

    • Indeed, Pat. We all think we have more time with those we love, yet sadly, time is finite and cannot be stretched. I hope you (and your mom) had enjoyable Mother’s Days … with many more to come!

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