Since today is Mother’s Day, I thought I would honor my Mom’s memory by writing her a letter. I hope you can also find something of value in it as well. And Happy Mother’s Day to each and every Mom!
Dear Mom:
I miss you. It’s hard to believe it’s been nearly two years since you’ve been gone. Sometimes it feels like two decades. You told me once that nothing stays the same forever and, as always, you were right.
I see you and the house the way it used to be in my dreams. You still have that wonderful smile and the kind, soft, gentle words you always said. I remember that the only time anyone ever heard loud noise coming from our house was when we were laughing.
The world was a better place because your sweet, kind presence graced it for 91 years. It seems darker and colder now. Some people just seem to get nastier and angrier, as you thought they would. Some of the things that happened since you passed made me glad you weren’t here to see them.
I always felt that our house was like the eye of a hurricane. The world outside could go absolutely nuts (and believe me, it does that worse than ever now), but when we were together as a family, that all seemed a universe away. I remember waking up that one Christmas morning and finding two feet of new snow on the ground. I was glad I was there to shovel out the car and the sidewalks. I was always glad to help, including our monthly trips up back to our hometown to go to the local Wal-Mart and buy you a month’s worth of food and other necessities. Some people tell me they wouldn’t do something like that, but to me it was never a chore or a bother. They say that when you are with someone important, the time slows down. I guess that explains why a weekend could seem like a week in one way and never long enough in another.
Thanks for being a sympathetic ear when I wanted to grouse and complain. Just verbalizing my concerns to you often helped me figure out what I should do next. Then, too, your much-appreciated help made life seem less bleak. Your kindness was something I marveled at, even helping me when even I didn’t feel I deserved it.
Of all of us in the family, I’m sure I disappointed you most and caused you the worst heartaches. Good intentions don’t make up for stupid actions–I’ve finally learned that. Still, you forgave me my awful wrongs, and I couldn’t do enough to help you when I could.
I find it strange that many of the phrases you used to say, I now find myself saying, like “Handy as a pocket in a shirt.” I also use the same encouraging words you told me when I needed some uplifting.
I like to think of you being held in God’s arms. And if anyone loved God, it was you. I’m so glad God gave me you for my mother. Other ladies are great, but no one compares with you.
Luv,
Wayne
And here’s a video of Jim Brickman and Mark Masri performing “A Mother’s Love.”