Monday marks the sixth anniversary of my mom’s death. It’s difficult for me to remember the specific year and date (I had to look it up to be sure). The December part is easy.
I miss her in a weird sporadic kind of way. There’s no rhyme or reason to it. Every now and then I’ll find myself driving along, or doing housework or something, and suddenly I have a vague awareness of what it used to be like to talk with her. And then I am aware that I miss being able to do that.
Of course there’s Everett. What a joy he would be to her. I think that was her only regret in not sticking around down here. She knew she wouldn’t see any great-grand-children. She seemed confident however that they would bring her joy in heaven, even from that distance.
I guess a big part of what I miss is that nobody loves you like your mom. And you don’t really appreciate that enough when she’s here. So….Happy Homecoming Anniversary, Mom! Love you!