Applesauce

I miss my mom every day, but there are moments that rush at me, blindside me, that strike at the raw grief still so clearly present in me. I had one of these moments a few Sundays ago. A close friend of mine sweetly invited me to can applesauce with her mom. I was going to bring the kids, because Jason was doing a house project on that same day. As the day grew closer we all (minus Jason) came down with a cold. No fun and I knew we couldn't can. Caryn was on call and we certainly didn't want to spread our lovely germs. I gathered all my canning supplies that morning anyway in denial. I was going to go but my conscience said I had to call her and at least ask how she felt about it. She agreed. Better be safe than sorry and we were both bummed. But I didn't realize until I hung up, why I was so disappointed. Why I wanted to cry. I realized how much I miss being with my mom. We used to go to lunch together (Olga's in the days of Westland Mall or Panera when they moved to A2 were our standbys) or go shopping. Sometimes we'd indulge in an hour of General Hospital or Oprah or make food together. On weekends or vacations we'd drive up to Lansing together to share in some lunch or shopping with Pam or sometimes even pottery. It didn't have to be much. Just time to hang out, talk, laugh, catch up. Share in our lives together. I didn't realize when Caryn invited me to hang out with her mom how I wanted so badly to have that warm feeling of being with a mom, of being mothered. I miss being mothered. I miss being mothered. Holy shit do I miss being mothered. Especially at times when mothering my own two little ones is so incredibly challenging. When I'm so tired from sleepless nights and sick with a cold and running ragged, I just want my mom. Will there be a day when her presence in my heart and mind will be enough? It sure doesn't feel like it now, but I long for that day.

I dug up some old photos at my dad's house. Oh there are so many photos. Some really amazing ones that I can't wait to scan or frame to tell her story to Addy and E. I found this photo and had to take it home. I thought this photo captured her so well. When I brought it home Jason asked me when this photo was taken. It was written on the back, 9/6/78. She was 8 months pregnant with me. That made me smile to think of my mom, healthy, happy, and vibrant with me growing in her belly. I'm waiting for the day when my mind and my dreams remember mom healthy and vibrant, not sick.