Merry Christmas, Mom

I suppose as it draws nearer to Christmas, that anyone who has lost their mother goes through this thought process. It's been almost 8 months now, and the pain comes in very real doses every so often. I cry less often than a few months ago, but it's hard.

When I finished Ironman Brazil, I couldn't call my mom and tell her that I was OK.

When I got sick, I couldn't count on her to tell me it would be all right.

When I turned 50 this fall, it was my first birthday without her, and I thought back to when she was only 50.

When I won my age division in Miami, I couldn't call her and share my joy with her.

On Thanksgiving Day, I thought about her before, during and after the 5K race I ran, and I couldn't call her to tell her I set a PR. I roasted a leg of lamb that day for my Dad and me instead of turkey--I didn't tell him, but maybe he figured out that it was because to me, the lamb honored Mom. While she was very sick over Easter, I gave her a Beanie Baby lamb, Meekins. Since she was very religious and also had a sense of humor, I told her it was the "Lamb of God." Which made my youngest sister bust out in tears, as she and I both knew how sick Mom was. Mom held that lamb close every day, and I buried it with her. I bought one for myself and it sits next to my work computer to remind me of her every day. So that's why I made lamb instead of turkey for Thanksgiving dinner.

I was the smallest child, and even into her 70's, Mom would let me sit on her knee and she would bounce me up and down--not with as much vigor in her 70's as in years past, but still, it was always a tender mother-daughter moment for me. Who else can make you feel like that?

Mom always thought that everything I did was because I was such an independent spirit. But behind it all, I always wanted to make her proud of me, and I knew she was. Was she hurt when I took up crocheting and became quite good (and fast) at it? No. She made me show my grandma how quickly and effortlessly I could do it. Was she jealous when I took up sewing and began turning out complicated dresses and even sewing for the rest of the family for a few years? No. She was happy that I enjoyed doing it, and I was happy to take a burden off of her. Did she compare herself to me when I took up cooking with a vengeance and spent my high school years cooking the family dinners? No. She told me how great everything was, and again I was glad to help her, following in the footsteps of my older sister who was off in college.

She sometimes told me she wished I wasn't so independent and stubborn. But she saw in it my drive for excellence, finishing things and setting a good example for others. Did she outwardly encourage the behavior in me or push me into things? Never. She was just always there to share the joy I took in learning new things, creating new things, and accomplishing things. She never really fawned over me, but she had this incredible memory for clothes I had made (she would request that I wear certain things for important family gatherings) and dishes that I had cooked. Sometimes I would get angry at her when she would ask me to make something for another person, but I know that she didn't ask me out of a sense of obligation but out of a sense of pride in that the other person would receive something very special.

I think Mom knew I was much stronger than I ever thought I was. As I write this, I don't feel so strong, yet I know that I am.

My brother, Tom, made a beautiful CD of some of Mom's favorite music, and it was played at her funeral. He gave all the kids a copy, and I just couldn't bring myself to play it until a few weeks ago. I put it on, had a good cry, and enjoyed the music and memories. Of course, now as I keep a classical music station on during the day softly while I work, I find myself hearing many of these melodies!

A few of my siblings and their family members are getting together this weekend. I know it is going to be hard for all of us to not have Mom physically with us this Christmas. But she's here in spirit with me every single day.

I love you, Mom, and Merry Christmas.