Mother’s Day

Happy Mother’s Day, Laura. We miss you. This would have been your 17th Mother’s Day as a mom. I know you are still with us, but I wish you could be with your boys today. You did such an amazing job raising your sons, and you left us in the best possible position for me to take the reins. I see your imprint on the boys every day. The two souls that you raised and nurtured have all the best parts of you. You live on in them today. You were our light, and though we keep moving forward, we miss you. Please continue to shine your light and love on us. We love you.

This was definitely one of the hardest days of the year to get through. Your presence was felt and missed everywhere. Though we shared our love with my mother and yours, there was a profound absence and silence on this day. On top of it, it was cold and rainy. I did gaze often at the two Japanese maple trees in our front courtyard; one the boys and I planted for you on our first mother’s day in this house and the other for your birthday that year. We did do some things to honor and celebrate you on this day. One you would have enjoyed was the new Avengers movie, which we went to see. All three hours of it. It was a good distraction, and the boys enjoyed it. I spent most of it drifting in and out of thoughts about you, about life. I couldn’t help but think how you and Sam would have endlessly dissected the characters and plot after the movie, while Luke and I would have agreed that the action was pretty cool. I did ask Sam a lot of questions after the movie, to piece together what I didn’t remember from the last ten years of Avengers’ movies. It was quite a bit apparently.

I penned the following sometime over the winter months. It’s not really specific to Mother’s Day, but you have been in my thoughts endlessly recently, and reminds me to find peace in what has transpired, both at time of and after your death:

I thought I knew how the verses went,
But the story writes itself.
Plans we made for our second half,
Are now to be kept on the shelf.

I sought for answers high and low,
But those answers aren’t found on earth.
I thought I knew how the chapters flow,
But the story writes itself.

Call your name and expect your sight,
But there’s only silence in the space.
Reach for you in the dark of night,
But only find the memory of you in that space.

I thought I knew how life would go,
But the story writes itself.