A Year Ago

If a year ago you had asked me what my plans were for the following Saturday, I would not have been able to tell you. As a rather impulsive, fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy, I've always had a rather myopic view of life. Last year was even more so, as my entire world hinged on my mother's terminal illness and impending passage. I won't recount the experience now. In fact, I haven't even been reliving it as much in my mind as I had anticipated. While I don't believe that Time heals all wounds, it does make life sufferable in the wake of loss.

The last year has been an experience like nothing I've faced. A year of unimaginable sadness and profound grief, as well as realization, hope and love.

Losing a parent is one of those things that you don't understand until you've faced it yourself. It's like a lifetime membership in a club that no one wants to join, but whose members are a comfort to each other. And when a new member joins, the collective feels their pain all over again.

Tomorrow marks the one-year anniversary of my mother's passing. My sister and I wondered if we would get a sign. Hers was a hummingbird (mom loved them) flying into her garage while she and her boys were going into the house from the car. Mine was different. I haven't seen a monarch butterfly all summer, but...

I interpret phone calls into American Sign Language at my part-time job. I went all year without hearing my mom's name while on a call. Her name is fairly unique, and I would have remembered. But this week I heard it Tuesday night, Thursday night, and during an unexpected shift Saturday evening.

I miss you, Mom.













"Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened."
~Dr. Seuss~