Mother's Day

This is my first Mother’s Day without my Mom, who passed away suddenly last fall. She was 65, young by today’s standards I guess. Dad passed away 8 years ago from cancer at the age of 59. It’s still hard to believe it’s been that long.

Growing up, my Mom and I were never close. Like a lot of families, we weren’t ones to show much emotion – unless of course there was an argument. And lord knows there were many. Mom was the disciplinarian, the rule setter and one not afraid to express how she felt about anything and anyone A lot of times, she could be crooked as sin – the complete opposite of Dad. She was old fashioned, like most of my friend’s moms, and that caused a lot of friction between us.

As we both got older, things improved. I guess we both mellowed with age. But it the loss of Dad and my brother’s accident that started to change things. He was in an accident 19 years ago that left him permanently disabled and in need of constant care. He was 23 at the time. None of us have ever recovered from that.

But what really stuck me after Mom’s passing was how much I missed her. I found myself picking up the phone and dialling her number before I realized that she was gone. I‘m not sure if anyone else does that, but it was always difficult.

But I’m so glad things were better between us before she died.

Below is something I read at the service at the funeral home. I hope she would have approved.

Like most families, I guess most of you here have lost someone very close to you. No one I know is immune to death. And with the passing of a loved one comes sorrow. And tears. But looking around, I sense a feeling of - dare I say peace - from the knowledge that Mom has so many close friends who thought so highly of her and she of them.

Those of you who knew both Mom and Dad would probably agree they were like chalk and cheese. Nothing bothered Dad. Happy go lucky and not a care in the world. Mom – not so much. If she had an opinion, she let you know it - and in no uncertain terms. That’s probably why me and Mom didn’t always see eye to eye. We are so much alike. I always said I had the Mom gene. It’s like having an arthritic knee. It doesn’t always hurt, but when it flared up - look out.

Because we were so much alike, we said things that we likely regretted but didn’t say things and regret that too. I knew she was proud of all her kids but she wasn’t one to say it. That wasn’t Mom’s way. But she did tell her friends and anyone who would listen, of how proud she was of all her children. I’m just proud she was my Mom.