Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Pieces of her

"If I'd known our last visit would be our last, I would have stayed just a little longer.
If I'd known that our last hug would be our last, I would have hugged a little tighter.
If I'd known that our last "I love you" would be our last, I would have said it just once more.
If I'd known that our last "goodbye" would be our last, I would have never said "goodbye" at all."


I found a card from my mom today. It was the last Birthday card she ever sent me. At the time I originally received it, it wasn't a surprise, because my mom never forgot a birthday. And the sentiment wasn't a surprise either, since my mom carefully picked out each card, reading dozens before she settled on just the right one for each member of her family. We all knew that when our birthday came, we may not receive cards from anyone else, but my mom's would be there, every year.

As I held this card to my chest and my heart began to break a little, I realized how lucky I am to have these pieces of her all around me. I can find remnants of her love everywhere. I open the closet and find a sweater she brought me from Niagra Falls. She had always wanted to go there, so my dad took her. When she came back she was so excited to tell me how beautiful it was. Her smile was unbelievable. I dust the curio cabinet and I find the pieces of Frankoma Pottery she brought back for me from her trip to Oklahoma because she knew how much I loved their animal figurines. And she couldn't bring back just one. She brought back 5. Her generosity is something that imprinted on me and continues to inspire me to this day. I look in the cupboard for a container for leftovers and I see one of her tupperware bowls. She always loved to make beans and meatloaf for my husband. I don't eat meat but she knew how much he loved her meatloaf so she made a point to make it at least once a month for him. I open the freezer to get some ice and I see the last meatloaf she ever made for me. She was in alot of pain but made one anyway and sent it home for me to bake when my husband wanted it. I never got around to it and now I can't throw it out. Its been there over a year, and its way too late to consider cooking it, but somehow, hanging on to it, I have a little piece of her love, there when I need it. I walk to the front door and there she is, in the pictures on my wall. Pictures of her in Hawaii, looking so beautiful and happy. She had always wanted to go, so when I had the chance to do it, I took her and my dad, and she had such a wonderful time. I can still see her sitting on the Lunch Whale Watching Cruise we went on, sitting at the table, stringing Plumeria flowers to make a lei. When we returned, her eyes would beam with excitement when she told others about her trip.

All of these things catch me by surprise and open the wound just a little each time I find one but they comfort me too. Just knowing that she is all around me still, her love showing itself in the smallest of ways, makes me feel like I haven't completely lost her, she isn't completely gone. God, how I wish she wasn't gone.

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