I'm a quarter Irish descent. And in my younger years, I celebrated St Patrick's Day with fervor. March 17, 1998 was no different. I arrived at work, decked in green. I had my "If you're close enough to read this, you're close enough to buy me a beer." pin in my pocket. I was primed to hit the Irish bars with friends after the workday.
And then, at 9:15 in the morning... I got the call.
Mom was gone.My heart sank. And life would never be the same.
The next few days, weeks, months were and are a blur. My life had been so focused on Mom's illness and needs, and my worries and prayers... that I literally didn't know what to do with myself.
I found myself letting go... of so many emotions, so many rules, so many restrictions. Nothing mattered any more. And everything mattered so much more.
Losing your Mother changes a daughter. I remember when Mom lost hers. Once she awakened from the inevitable daze (that I now realize... I didn't even remotely understand at the time), there was a drastic shift in her priorities. I experienced the same awakening.
The reason for yesterday's post...
Mom was critically ill for so many years, and I really didn't have anyone to lean on for support. My Dad (and hands down, Mom's and my best friend) had already passed away in 1992.
To this day, I have a hard time remembering Mom healthy and happy. Those (nearly) six years, combined with all of the other losses, stripped me of my fond and surely favorite memories.
Yesterday, I tried to step back in time. I tried to remember some of the things that Mom loved. And if given the opportunity today, I would shower her in all of her joys!
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