Mother's Day

May is a bittersweet month. May 1 was the anniversary of my mother's passing. This year it was four years since her death. Today we celebrate her and all mothers. And in a few weeks, I will be thinking of her again on what would have been her 67th birthday. Needless to say, I think of my mom a lot during this time of year.

When she passed, I wrote about being very grateful and feeling blessed to have special time with her before she was gone. Sadly, most people lose a loved one very suddenly and live with regrets of unspoken love. We knew mom's time here was coming to an end and made the most of it.

I am still grateful for that time, but in the four short years since she has gone, so much has happened in my own life that I wish I could have shared.

She never had the opportunity to meet my husband and see me marry. She would have loved him and his family. I easily imagine all the phone calls and emails that she and my mother-in-law would surely have exchanged. Frightening, really.

She didn't get to see me become a mother, provide advice on breastfeeding or hold either of my children. She never got to laugh at the payback I am surely getting for all the gray hairs I put on her head. God help me when they become teenagers because I know what a rotten human being I was during those years.

It's the conversations now I wish we could have. The things I never thought to ask before. Because I wasn't yet married or a mother. Having your own kids, you gain incredible insight about what it might have been like when your own parents were raising you. I want to be able to talk about sleeping patterns and baby food and poopy diapers and growth charts. I want to hear her reminiscing about when we were babies and recall obscure moments from our childhood.

That she does not know my family seems completely absurd.

I know she is beaming from up above but it's just not the same. So on this sacred day, if you are lucky enough to still have your mom in your life, give her a massive hug and tell her thank you and I love you. Even if you don't yet fully understand why. She will.

To my mom, June Kirkpatrick Fletcher (1944-2007).