Oh, my heart aches… still aches for you, my precious Mama. Can’t I have just one more day!
People said, “She’s not suffering, she’s at rest. It’s a blessing.” …meant to comfort my broken heart, to assure me you’d left a long time ago—that the long good-bye was now over. They said I’d been a good daughter, as though you’d been a burden in my busy life (you weren’t). That now I could “get on” with making dreams come true (huh?) , That the pause on the rest of my life was finished, (what!) and I could finally move forward to the next chapter. Good people, my friends. People who loved me. Meaning well, and showing up. Food and flowers, cards and condolence. I’m ever grateful. Still, I long for one more day….I wish I’d had you a million more. 60 years was just a drop in the bucket.
Are you really dead? Some nights I dream of you, and wake and remember.
You were my first “everything.” I grew in your womb. You fed and nourished and wanted and loved me. I’m a motherless child. Eleven years now, this April night, I held your still-warm hand and kissed your cheek one last time, Good-bye, though it wasn’t good at all. Way too soon. My heart aches and I dream of you, and remember.
When I look at pretty fabric, I remember you .
When I hear someone whistle, I remember you.
When I hear “I come to the Garden alone,” I remember you.
When I see your fine China, I remember you.
When I see lace tablecloths, I remember you.
When I see boxes of Depends on store shelves I remember you
When I think of Alzheimer's Disease, I remember you.
When I make rice with egg gravy, I remember you.
When I see neatly folded towels, I remember you.
When I see Betty Boop anything, I remember you.
When I make pies, I remember you.
When I think of a book called Klondike Kate, I remember you.
When I see a Sabbath School quarterly and Bible, I remember you.
When I set the table, I remember you.
When we gather for holidays, I remember you.
When I meet someone named “Betty”, I remember you.
When I catch a glimpse of your house from the highway, I remember you.
When I sit in church, I remember you.
When we sing for sundown worship, I remember you.
When we sing “tis love that makes us happy”, I remember you.
When we eat popcorn on Saturday nights, I remember you
When I see rhododendrons blossom, I remember you.
When I see jars of canned fruit, I remember you.
When I see your grandchildren, I remember you.
When I hug your great-grandchildren, I remember you.
When I remember Lee at 14, I remember you.
When I hear scalawag and little pill, I remember you.
When I hear Jim, Tom and Tim, I remember you.
When I see Deanne, I remember you.
When I think of love, loyalty, devotion, commitment and courage, I remember you.
When I see your pik top hanging in my closet, I remember you.
When January 8 and June 15 come, I remember you.
When I remember Daddy, I remember you.
When I think of love and devotion and commitment, I remember you.
When I remember a million memories, I remember you.
Always. I remember you
I want just one more day. Not in the sweet bye and bye, but now! But it’s
not to be, and my heart weeps, even still.
Did you know how much I loved you? I’m sorry for being so busy with my own conundrums and not spending more time with you and Daddy—there was never enough.
You believed with all your heart and taught that the ONE MORE DAY is coming, soon, and will last forever. That your good-bye was not forever, and that the One you loved will make the good come true, and all will be well. I can hardly wait.
Oh, I loved you, Mom. I miss you.
Always,
Your Susan Joy
