For my Mom

Not the story I had hoped to post....maybe later.

Mom,
Today is my first Mother’s day without you. I am finding it far harder to get through this day than I thought I would. Today I planted a rosebush for you in your honor in my front flowerbed. Everyone will see it when they come up to my front door. I know you will would have loved it. You always did love roses.

As I think of this day and the forty-two Mother’s days we shared together, I cannot think of a single one that stands out more than another. I can remember Dad taking me to Steven’s House of Gifts to get a Mother’s day gift for you. I think we went there every year together until they closed. Even as a teenager Dad would tell me before we went into the store that I could not touch anything in there. Every year we got you bell for Mother’s day...and every year you would act surprised. Even though you knew exactly what you were getting; Dad and I were creatures of habit and always got you the same thing for Mother’s day.

As I was planting my garden today I thought of you often and how much you loved gardening. How you taught me how to garden. It seemed odd planting it this year without asking you what you thought I should plant. I hope I did OK with it. I still remember you working in your garden at the house on Jacobson. You would have one of the neighbors come over with a rototiller every year. One half would be flowers and the other vegetables. You always planted enough to be able to can your own. Something I hope to do this year. I can see you standing up in the flower bed, wiping your forehead after pulling weeds and little Brad Wallom coming over and counting your toes...he could never quite figure out why you only had eight and he had ten.

I can remember all the times I came home from after being bullied and tortured and you were always there for me...you did not know it at the time but the phrase you used to say to make me feel better actually made the pain worse. “Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, I may as well go eat worms.” I know you thought you were being funny and you were trying to cheer me up...but Mom, I don’t think you or Dad ever really did understand what I was going through. I forgive you for it...you could not possibly have known the torture and pain I was going through...I don’t think anyone really did.

One of the memories that has stuck with me the most over the years Mom was when you were sick and in the hospital. You got to come home on weekends, oh how I cried when we had to take you back there...it must have torn you apart to leave me sitting in the car crying while Dad took you to the psychiatric ward...I still shocks me to this day that children were not allowed to visit. There was one time in particular that sticks out in my head. Dad and I went to get you to bring you home for the weekend I was maybe all of five. Dad had to leave me in the car to go up and get you. Oh I cried and cried the whole time Dad was gone...and then you came down with a gift for me. A book called “Fraidy Cat” you had just found out that I had learned how to read while you were in the hospital...and you wanted me to read it to you when we got home. I still have that book Mom...and I still treasure it. It was the first book I ever read to you.

As I write this Mom, the tears are streaming down my face and I realize that I did not cry for you when you passed away. I don’t know why...I do not know if it was the shock of your death, the stress of watching you die, knowing that you were finally at peace and no longer in pain...or that I was so concerned that I would break down while reading your eulogy...I do not know. I do know that today has brought back a flood of emotions...and tears. Mom, you are missed. Today just did not seem right without bringing you flowers and a funny card...and having you make a big fuss about them...even though you knew that is what I was going to bring you...being a creature of habit and all.

I love you Mom.
Mark