Mother’s Day was this past Sunday. I have a love/hate relationship with Mother’s Day, at the same time I am reminded so clearly of what I don’t have, I am also able to remember what a wonderful woman my mother was. I didn’t cry this year, which is a first for me. I thought about her and I missed her, but I didn’t cry.
Instead, I cried today.
It wasn’t a conscious thought, something I had been dwelling on or thinking about. Rather, it hit me like a ton of bricks as I sat at a traffic light in Los Lunas earlier this evening. I’m not sure what triggered it, what it was that made me pull over and cry like a child for 30 minutes.
It’s no secret I miss her, perhaps more so because of how difficult the last year has been, especially the last few months. I’ve sat in my car more times than I can count and just wished she was here for me to talk to, for her to hug me and yell at me for all the stupid things I’ve done. I’ve even sat in my car and talked to her, knowing she can’t hear me and can’t respond.
I spent this Mother’s Day with my bestie. Besides it being Mother’s Day it was also her birthday. I felt bad all day because I was jealous she had her mother there. I wonder if those feelings fade, if it ever stops hurting. There’s a perpetual emptiness where she used to be and nothing really fills it. Sometimes it doesn’t hurt and other times the ache is so unbearable all I can do is cry. It’s not something I do consciously or on purpose, I keep being told to “let her go” but that isn’t the issue. She’s gone, I can’t change that. I don’t mope around and cry whenever I talk about her, but there are those times when the sadness that she’s gone just smacks into me and I can’t shake it.
She was my best friend. I would give anything to see her and talk to her just for an hour. There are so many things I want to ask and tell her. I want to know what she thinks of my tattoos, if she would have yelled at me when I got my nose pierced, whether my taste in music would drive her nuts, if she would like my writing, think I had a pretty singing voice. I sometimes still find myself angry that she’s gone, I don’t know who or what I’m angry at but the anger is there. A lot of the time I find myself ashamed that I still miss her so much. Isn’t it supposed to fade? Or does everyone who lost someone so important feel that hurt the way I do.
Mother’s Day brings those questions out. I often wonder what’s wrong with me, why I sometimes still cry and feel that heavy ache of loss. It’s been 12 years, shouldn’t it get easier? I suppose in some ways it has, actually in a lot of ways it has. But, every time I find myself in a new situation in life I realize how much I miss her, how much I feel like I’m just floating out to sea with no one there to help me steer.
So, it’s late but no less sincere: Happy Mother’s Day Mama. I miss you.