13 May 2013

that's how the light gets in


the truth is that I can't wait for this to day to be over. three hours, forty-three minutes and it will officially be over. I know that's not what I'm supposed to say. it's certainly not how I'm supposed to feel. but there it is. first mother's day without the extraordinary woman who brought me into this world and the minutes are crawling by.

I want one more mother's day with her. one more chance to tell her how much I love her. one more chance to spoil her with fancy face creams and papery pink peonies, with little things for her collections and bright yellow boxes of candy dots and handmade cards. actually, I want more than one more mother's day with her. I want all of the days, all of them. I know I can't have them but I want them.

I would be remiss if I did not mention how hard my own little family tried to make the day just a little bit softer for me. fresh cut tulips, watercolor paintings, hand-drawn portraits. cupcakes. photobooths. still, the day has been wobbly, at best. I knew it, they knew it. what else could we do but muddle through? the best gift I received came just after lunch, in the form of a small, sweet hand in mine. I'd turned away so they would not see me cry and both of them came to me, both my kids, and they sat there in that pain with me while I told them. in a small voice that did not even sound like my own, I told them. I miss my mom. I just really really miss my mom.

I told them I was sorry I'd been so grouchy and so quiet, that I would try not to be grouchy and quiet for the rest of the afternoon. which is when the day broke open a little, just enough to let a little light in. and you know, it's true what they say about the cracks in things, that that's how the light gets in. it's true. because that's how we got through today. that's how I'll get through these last few hours.

and I will say it, even though she can't hear me. I will say it every year that I'm alive, I will say it because I can. happy mother's day, mom. I love you.

36 comments:

  1. Sending you so much love Andrea.

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  2. I thought about you a lot today, as you are one of four people I know experiencing this terrible phenomena today: also my dad, my mother-in-law, and our girls' beloved preschool teacher (whose mom was their other beloved preschool teacher). I'm so glad you had a little bit of light mixed in. : (

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  3. thank you for sharing this. i feel your pain. i lost my mother 26 years ago when i was 15 years old. this mother's day, i was feeling her absence again. i'm not sure why as i don't usually to this degree. but this year i did. your honesty touched me. thank you. and i hope you can find some peace and comfort. you made it through the first one.

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  4. O that's made me cry....but in a good way...!!!

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  5. I thought about you so much yesterday.

    This was beautifully written, Andrea.
    Love you.

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  6. this is such a beautiful post. mother's day is one of my least favorite days of the year too, but for different reasons. i appreciate your sharing yourself so honestly. it inspires me to do the same. xo

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  7. Peace and comfort to you, Andrea. Your love for your mom (and hers for you) is so very evident and really lovely to see.

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  8. tears are running down my face. love to you, friend.

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  9. it was my first mother's day without my mom, too. i lost her six months ago today.

    thank you for writing down so clearly everything i was unable to convey yesterday. i attended a mother's day picnic a dear friend hosted for her mother and felt like i had to do my best to keep my mood in check so as not to ruin their day. and while the day was beautiful and i welcomed the distraction, it only reminded me of the giant gaping hole i've felt in my chest since i lost my mom. i don't have any close friends who have lost their moms yet, but your words helped. and i wanted to thank you for that.

    sending love and strength,
    --jenny

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  10. Love this. all the bittersweet. a hand in yours. that is all you need sometimes.

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  11. I read this through eyes filled with tears. I'm holding a space for you.
    You are amazing and wondrous - even in the painful moments. Thank you for sharing something so close to your heart. I could relate because I feel this way on Father's Day even though my father has been gone for many years - so long that I barely got a chance to know him.
    I love you. Expect a big hug the next time you are in SF.

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  12. So sorry for your loss but also so appreciative for your honest emotions. Big hugs to you xoxo

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  13. She was one of the best people ever.

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  14. love to you andrea...so much love and hugs to you.
    xoxo

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  15. tears flowing. thought of you so often yesterday. praying for you even now. <3

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  16. sure love you, andrea. grateful for your openness. xo!

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  17. oh friend, you were on my mind.

    hugs. enormous ones.

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  18. Brings tears to my eyes... All my love to you...

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  19. Happy mother's day to you Andrea, with a big hug x

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  20. Sending you extra doses of love.

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  21. I thought of you on Sunday. xo

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  22. I am so sorry for your loss . After my younger brother died of AIDS we found a note in his wallet that said " No one ever really dies, we live on in the hearts of those who love us forever"

    hugs debby

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  23. This was my first Mother's Day with out my mom too, and I felt EXACTLY the same way you did. Thanks so much for this beautiful post, putting into words just how I felt. {{{hugs}}}

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  24. i, too, love you. my hand was holding yours on Sunday as well... in my mind. xoxo

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  25. I think she can most certainly hear you.

    xoxo
    c.

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  26. I find myself crying as I read. My mom is having an abdominal tumor removed on Thursday and I keep catching my breath and thinking, "What if?" What if? In those moments, I already miss my mom.

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  27. I've got tears in my eyes, and warm wishes for you in my heart. My dad passed away in October of last year. His birthday, May 2nd, was difficult for me, and I know Father's Day will be too.

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  28. Your's is more raw than mine is, but I am 3 years out. It will get better. I feel you.

    http://oururbanplayground.com/?p=1679

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  29. I've only just come across your beautiful blog and am so sorry to hear of your loss. I lost my brother in 2004, and although the grief has numbed a little, your words reminded me of my personal journey through all of this. The grief doesn't go away, but in my experience it has numbed as the years have passed and I have found ways to cope with him not being here anymore.

    Thinking of you and wishing you comfort, light and warmth. x

    (P.S: The last two posts I wrote wouldn't allow me to post, so just in case - you can find me here: gemblina.net)

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