Monday, August 2, 2010

Losing the Last Parent

Just four short weeks ago, I buckled myself into my car and headed from Kansas City to Baudette, Minnesota.

Not for fun. Not to visit friends and family for the holiday weekend. Not for a wild and crazy weekend with those nutty Minnesotans.

It was to say goodbye to my mother.

Dad died five and a half years ago and now I must find a way to say goodbye to the last person on the face of this earth who must love me unconditionally. It's a feeling that I was not prepared to face. I was woefully unprepared to face this new lifestyle, but to have eventually gather myself up and actually live it is painful to face. Every day.

My mom was beautiful, and smart, and a great mom, and a good cook, and a great forgiver, amongst other gifts. My mom knew how to love her family. It may sound like a simple gift or talent to possess, but I think most people would agree that loving someone, always, is not necessarily an easy task. Who can not look around at this moment and wish that they could either receive or give that kind of love?

My miss my mom, but the truth is, I've missed her for a couple of years. I miss calling my mom and talking about my kids - their problems, their achievements, their gifts to this world. I miss asking my mom for advice on anything from cooking to sewing to traveling to childrearing. There was not much I could not discuss with my mom. When growing up my friends would complain about their mothers, have fights with their mothers, yell, scream, slam doors, pitch royal fits. They had drama! I have no memory of hearing my mother's voice raised in anger to me, nor did I ever raise mine to her. Never a slammed door. No drama. Just pure, unconditional love.

As I was going through the few items I brought home from Minnesota, I came across a tiny little book, gifted to my mom by me in 1994. It's a wee little book filled with quotes about mothers. Inside the cover I wrote "I shall never stop trying to be as good a mother as you. Love always and forever, Me". Inside the little book were tucked a variety of photos....the variety is so funny! My brother's sophmore picture from 1970, my engagement picture, my wedding picture, a picture of my sister-in-law with her children, a picture of my four kids circa 1989, and various school pictures of my kids. I want to believe that even on those days in which my mother didn't know who she was, she could still look at these pictures and know those were people who loved her. Because, oh my, we loved her. And we ache for her touch today.

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