As the Christmas season draws to a close, it feels like there's something I need to do. Something I'm forgetting...but I'm not forgetting. I remember what it is I should do; but I'm unable to. Yesterday and today I've had the desire to call my mom and tell her about Christmas. How good it was to see Roger, Karen and their families. Of course she's not home, and her cell phone number has been reassigned. I know this because I texted her last night, in case there are text messages in the afterlife. I texted MERRY CHRISTMAS MOM, I MISS YOU to her cell number. She texted back WHO IS THIS? Of course it wasn't her, but a very surprised US Cellular customer. I replied that the number had been my mom's, who had passed in September. They replied with condolences.
Last Christmas was the first Christmas that I was with Dale and his first Christmas with my family. Mom wasn't feeling well, so I wasn't expecting much fanfare. To my surprise the house was completely decorated and she had baked every kind of candy and cookie I ever remembered her making, including buckeyes. In hindsight, I think she knew that it would be her last Christmas with us. With hindsight's clarity comes regret, though, and if I had known it was her last Christmas I can think of a thousand things I would've done differently.
Merry Christmas, Mom. I miss you.
1 comment:
Bless your heart. Yesterday, while I was reading the Christmas story to my family, I broke down crying thinking of my grandmother and Scott's mother. Our door is open to you always.
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