I was so mad when my mom died and people around me still had their moms. I hated their big stupid mom having faces. My mom died 3 years ago today. It feels like 3 days ago.
Shortly after she was gone my daughter Hannah, then 7, walked in on me crying. I don’t melt down much in front of her, but she caught me in a moment where I was like an inconsolable little girl. “I want my mom!” I kept repeating through choking sobs. There was nothing I could do but let them run out while Hannah’s little hand patted my back.
All this time has passed and I still feel that phrase resting on my lips each day. I want my mom. I don’t want memories. I don’t want photos. I don’t want her “in my heart”. I don’t want the annoying dreams where I know she’s not real. I want her here.
As her time grew shorter, my mom knew I was afraid of being without her. She said to me, “You have everything you need in life to be happy. You know what to do.”
And so everyday I take what she taught me and try to weave it into our lives. What was once ‘Nancy & Jennifer’ is now ‘Jennifer & Hannah’.
I think of her when we laugh together.
I think of her when we admire the pansies.
I think of her when we marvel at the moon.
I think of her when we encourage eachother.
I think of her when we make her chocolate chip cookies.
I think of her when we watch King of Queens.
I think of her when sing a song.
I think of her when we take a walk.
I think of her when we create a craft.
I think of her when we lay in my bed talking.
Like she and I used to do.
And I realize. How lucky I am. To have a little girl to carry on the special things my mom and I shared.
But I still want my mom.