A New Kind of Mother's Day

 

April 28, 2021

A mother's life is full of firsts: the first birthday, the first day of school, the first graduation. The list goes on. We lock eyes the moment we are born, and from then on, our mother becomes our shero - the one we call for help and to share our sorrows, laughter, triumphs, and struggles. But this Mother's Day brings a new first. It is my first one without her. 

My mother passed away in January of Covid-19. You might have read my story in My Family's Covid Story: It's More Than the Numbers where I described how 28 days changed my family's life. During the days following her passing, I found myself vacillating between total acceptance and uncontrollable tears. One day, I was consoling her friends with the verve of a grief counselor, and a day later, I was hunched over on the floor - unable to see through tears and unable to catch my breath. If there was a new way to cry tears, I found it. In the weeks that followed, I almost texted her. One time, I did it anyway. I keep her picture on the bulletin board at my workstation. When I look at it, sometimes I feel comfort and encouragement coming through her eyes. Other times, I cannot even look in its direction. I started to feel jealous when I saw people my age out and about with their mothers. I cried while looking at her favorite sweater and did a double take when I passed a mirror one day. Do I really look that much like her? I thought. I felt so strange, out of sorts, confused, and dazed. And strange things were happening to me. But then the tide turned, and my tears began to slow down. 

I started to think about happy times like the morning I picked her up for church and to my surprise, we were wearing matching blouses. Another time, the same colors. I thought about how she always laughed at her nickname, Ms. Leadfoot, the title I gave her some years ago after she received a speeding ticket the very same day that I had warned her to slow down. As grandmothers are notorious for carrying candy in their purses, my mother did the same. But she also carried paper towels! In every purse and in every pocket was one or two that could always be counted on to collect stale chewing gum or wipe an unexpected runny nose. I choose to think about such things. Remembering the delight she had when talking about her favorite show to binge watch (90 Day Fiancé) and all my mother's quirks, quips, and mannerisms bring me joy and make me smile.

I will never be the same person I was before her passing, but perhaps I am a better person. I am more patient with people because I wonder what is going on in their lives and the challenges they might be facing. I am unable to listen to some songs without reopening the flood gates, but I know that I am getting better day by day. Even though she will not be here for any more firsts, I am grateful to God for the 73 years she had them.