Sunday, May 11, 2008

Missing You

I'll write about New York but it'll have to wait. Tomorrow perhaps. See, I've never lived away from my mom for a Mother's Day. It makes me feel like a bad daughter, like someone might think I don't love her quite enough to be there to say, "Thanks for raising me. I know I gave you a lot of crap and mouthed off once or twice or infinity times." Maybe not being there means I don't miss all the shopping trips or the conversations over lunch or the constant seat companion at church every Sunday. Someone might think it's pretty lame that I'm not there, especially this Mother's Day, being that it's her first without her own mother. But I talked to her on the phone this morning and she sounded alright. She didn't sound at all the way I expect myself to sound on the first Mother's Day I celebrate once she's gone. I expect to snort liquid boogers all day long and bawl my eyes out once again. I expect people to feel very sorry for my loss. My mom doesn't seem that way at all. She seems like she's a lot better adjusted than I can ever hope to be. I'm sorry that I can't go to dinner with them tonight and that I can't hug her and that when I tell her I love her it's through the phone lines and across 750 miles.

I miss her.

But in the missing I realize how thankful I am that she's available. She's a phone call away. She's a short flight to the southwest. She's present and in my life and I am so blessed through my relationship with her. I love having a son and, in fact, have recently been thinking that I would love to have two sons. I enjoy stomping in puddles and digging in the dirt that much. But, at the same time, I think it might be a great travesty if I never have a daughter, if I am never given the opportunity to be to my little girl what my mother was to me. A confidant. A counselor. A nurse. A shopping buddy. A hairdresser. A cheerleader. A hero. The world.

Thanks a billion, Mom. I'm sorry for the times I slammed my door and then mumbled something about hating you under my breath. I was an idiot. I'd like to think I've grown up a lot in the last ten years. I'd like to think I'm on my way to figuring it all out...on my way to becoming a little more like you.


  1. I completely understand. Talked to my mama yesterday. Felt incomplete when the time change and church starting times didn't allow for me to talk to her untill 3:30 in the afternoon today. Then texted her twice. Still, not the same. Beautiful post.

  2. Thanks! That made me cry. I am so blessed that God chose to allow me the pleasure of raising you. I wish that we could go to the mall, out to lunch, whisper in church and laugh until our stomachs hurt EVERYDAY, but I look forward to the times that we can and cherish them even more. I love you!

  3. Ever thought about moonlighting for Hallmark?