Every year when the cool air blew into town my Mom would open all the windows and push those giant sliding glass doors open all over the house. She'd let the cool fall air rush in and we'd put on a sweatshirt (yes, we owned them in Texas - you need a good winter coat ;)).The fall air is chock full of memories. It carries pictures of daycare kids jumping in enormous piles of leaves in our front yard, the aroma of fresh baked treats, those same kiddos dressed up in their costumes playing games in the yard, and the impending Holiday insanity.
My Mom looooooved Holidays. You could argue she lived for them. You know those vinyl(?) flags you can buy at Bed, Bath & Beyond and craft stores - you put them on a pole and they come in every holiday, cartoon character and bird/flower scene you can imagine? Well, my Mom owned just about every one ever made. The flags changed with every season, holiday, birthday and whim. The neighbors never had to keep track of what season or holiday it was because they could simply look out their windows to check the flag at 2525 Eucalyptus Drive. (impressed I can spell that??)
I think we'll feel the pain of her missing every fall. Thanksgiving and Christmas are obvious grief markers for most, but there's something about October that does it for me. It is as if the winds are welcoming in a season of sorrow and missing. The chill in the air moves you to wrap up, make some tea and just sit quietly again. In the silence, for me, there is sorrow.
Four months away from the third anniversary which sounds insane to me. Partly because it feels like I haven't seen my Mom in ten years and partly because I can still feel the soft skin on the backs of her hands. Life without her is hard. I want so badly to talk to her about all these changes in my life and all this new information about me. I want to know how she felt when I was diagnosed with a learning disability. I want to know if she thought about it throughout my life. I want to know if she spent time teaching me how to organize my folders in fifth grade. I want to know if she'd be visiting me this weekend and seeing the fall colors of New England. I still want a future with her... and one with her here with me - not just "in my heart."
Let's face it - people being "with you" and "watching over you" is one part creepy and one part just not enough! Creepy because I would never have wished for my Mom to be with me 24/7 while she was alive, so why in the world would I want her lurking around my life taking note of all the crap I get myself into? No thanks. Not enough - because I can't hear from her, listen to her laugh at my silliness, and feel puffed up by her way of telling me I can do anything. (that consisted of her saying things like, "What's the big deal? It's just Boston. You can always come back.")
I haven't felt the missing as much lately, though I miss her daily. But as the cool air arrives, the windows open and life slows back down... I sit still and find that my sorrow remains. Oh how glorious the day will be when sorrow is traded for joy, never to return again!
1 comment:
I had my fall moment last week. it was pretty ugly. the first one when every memory of her rushes back.. the ones with her in compromising positions trying to put lights on the Christmas tree or get kids in their costumes. it gets worse..I had seen Judy Blume speak last Wednesday and choked back tears the whole time. by Friday, I just blew. it's so easy to revert and I found myself curled up on the couch with a blanket reading "It's Not the End of World"... sobbing at the parts where middle child Karen reveals her plot to thwart her parent's divorce plans.. and I find myself consoling her, crying out "Karen, it's not your fault!" and anyway, to make a long story a little less long.. Karen reminded me of you and yes there's an annoying little sister whom Karen makes pancakes for breakfast. and an older brother who spends all his time alone in his bedroom. and yeah.. I miss my family.
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