My Mom

My kids don't seem to mind spending time with me and for that I am so blessed and so grateful. For example, today, my oldest daughter invited me to go to the fair with her (and family) and my middle daughter invited me to go to the beach with them. My youngest and her husband are now renting from me and sharing my house.

Why do I mention this? On May 23rd of this year my mom died. She had been diagnosed with Parkinson's about 4 1/2 years ago and had been in a nursing home for almost 3 years. It was a slow, lingering decline and an awful disease that stole her from us bit by tiny bit. I have many regrets but one of the biggest is that I have a terrible memory. I have almost no recollection of my childhood and very little of my daughters'. I would change that if I could but I can't. My memory of my mom exists in a vague sense - a sense of an idyllic childhood, of love and peace, security, warmth, acceptance and support. My girls share their memories of her and I savor them.

I've had to accept the fact that I will not be able to recreate the history that she and I shared except through the memories of others. But as I thought today about how lovingly my kids care for me and how excited my grandchildren are to spend time with me I realized that my mom is responsible for that. She shaped me into the mother and grandmother that I am today. She loved my girls unconditionally and didn't hesitate to get down in the dirt with them. I hope and pray that my life will reflect her as I pour into the lives of those I love and that through that, her memory will live on in me.