Happy Mother's Day in Heaven, Mom.
Are you celebrating with your daddy today? Or with your father-in-law? Or maybe you are celebrating with the little girl you lost so many years ago, who never had a name here on earth. Do you get to hold her in your arms and tell her how she was never far from your heart?
This is my second Mother's Day without you. In twelve days, it will be your 64th birthday. It's been 19.5 months since you slipped the bonds of this world.
I miss you more every day. I miss your laugh, especially that hearty laugh that brought tears to your eyes when something really tickled you. I miss your sense of humor, how you teased and giggled and made our pastors laugh. I miss your stories about your second graders, your preschoolers, your first grade Sunday School class, the kids you grew up with. I miss how we used to lay on your bed and talk late into the night. And laugh. I miss the daily (and sometimes more than daily) phone calls. I miss talking to you about Scripture and church. I miss getting your advice on, well, everything. I miss calling you to talk about recipes and getting your advice on how best to cook something. I miss calling you when I am lost as to how to be a better wife, to get your wisdom that came from 40 years of being a phenomenal wife to Dad. I miss your love and support when the fact of infertility and physical dysfunction seems crushing.
There isn't anyone who can fill the massive hole in my life since you've left. I try to hold on to the memories, though some of them have already faded away. Your voice is already hard to hear. Though sometimes I still remember how it felt when you touched my hair. I watch certain movies because I know you loved them. I'm learning a little German because you studied it in college, and it makes me feel just a little bit closer to you. I keep the ceramic Christmas tree that you bequeathed to me so many years ago constantly out on the end table in our living room because you and I both loved it so dearly.
This week has been so hard without you, Mom. The hours spent trying to support Aunt Chris as Ernie was dying. Worrying about Great Aunt Wilma as she was in the hospital. Worrying about your mom as she was in the hospital with pneumonia. Going to Grandma & Grandpa's house that was empty of both of them for the first time in 65 years. Visiting Grandma at her new home, trying not to cry at seeing her so weak and confused.
This week has been so very hard without you. I miss you so much, it hurts to breathe.
On this Mother's Day, I am so grateful for everything you were and everything you did for me. You were kind, generous, loving, passionate, funny, humble, godly, a faithful wife, a joyous mother. You were not perfect - you were deeply human. You lost your temper and made mistakes with the best of them. But you were always there for us. You taught me the value of generosity, the joy of faithful servanthood, and the glory of living a grace-filled life.
All that I am, I owe to you and Dad. I want so much to curl up in your arms today. I hope that you can feel my love in heaven. I love you with all my heart. You were my best friend.
And you are, now and forever, that ultimate title of love - Mom.