This is the first Mother’s Day that I am motherless. It feels weird. Even though Mom and I weren’t as close as a lot of mothers and daughters, I would always acknowledge her on Mother’s Day. She would be celebrated by my Dad, and would receive cards, flowers, gifts and phone calls from her “kids.”
There is a big hole in the universe. And it’s not just because Mom’s gone, but because Mom and Dad are both gone now.
Many years ago, back in the late eighties, one spring when Mom was particularly up and feeling good (slightly manic), she decided that she wanted to go to a Caribbean island for a week’s vacation. For some reason, staying at a friend’s Caribbean condo didn’t work out, so we booked a week in Aruba. My Dad didn’t want to take time off work, so he told me that if I accompanied my mother to Aruba, he’d foot my bill. Didn’t have to ask me twice. We went.
We both partied like we were in our early 20’s. Well, I was in my early 20’s. We went to the beach, took tours, went on a snorkel and sail boat, and went to a luau. Had a blast. Somewhere along the way, someone took my camera and snapped a photo of the two of us. Seeing that photo was the first time I realized just how much like my mother I looked. And that was after a lifetime of people commenting on how much I looked like my mother. When I was young, I didn’t like being compared to her (probably because of the mental illness thing). But now when I look back at Mom, she was quite a looker. And I’m quite happy to be compared to her, when it comes to looks.
Mom, even though you’re no longer here with us in the physical world, I know you still keep tabs on me. And I hope you’re better than ever. Happy Mother’s Day.