I am nearing the anniversary of my mother’s death. She has been gone 6 years and the grief does not get easier, just different.
I miss her every day and wish for one more afternoon to sip tea and talk about our day. I would love one more disagreement, and one more laugh until we pee our pants moment.
My mom and I were best friends.
I loved when I became older and we could finally be friends. She said we couldn’t be friends until I was grown, so when this day finally came, I was elated. We talked about everything, and she had this amazing gift to know things before I told her. She knew how I was feeling before I would utter a word of explanation, and she always knew what to say to help me.
I remember her voice and her laugh and the words and phrases she used that were not common now, but from her generation, they were timeless.
Every once in a while the most amazing thing happens… I open my mouth and my mother comes out.
Same words, same tone, same phrases and inflection, and it is glorious.
For just a few moments, it is like she is here and all that she has been to me spills out.
Now, my mom was a firecracker and not all of the things she said were sweet, but they sure were spicy and I am here for it. Every time this happens, it catches me by surprise and delight.
It has happened so often that I get a little grin on my face when it does and begin to reflect on her words and my sweet husband will say, “Was that your mom?” He’s learned more about her through things I say than he ever did in the short while he was her son-in-law.
The impact she had on me was tremendous, and she lives on in me, so it makes sense that when I open my mouth, she comes out.