Tuesday, December 25, 2012
my sweet mom.
My mom ran to be with Jesus, early on Christmas Eve morning. More than ever when I hear or think "she's in a better place," it rings so, so true. Those words are spoken so often when someone's life ends, and yet, I feel it's become a bit of a cliche, overused space filled. But my mom led a life that was marred by so much pain, and to know that she is revived, her body and spirit are full of the zest she was known for as a high school hottie is truly, honestly the best Christmas gift I could ask for. I miss her already--I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel a little robbed. While I long ago accepted that we wouldn't have a typical mother-daughter relationship, I still feel there were so many conversations that we never had, so many quirky things I wish I knew. My heartache is eased when I hear people tell me they know how much she loved me, or that they know how proud of me she was. Those simple words give me the greatest peace.
I love this photo for so many reasons... for one, her obvious exuberance and spunk just emanate through the image. Secondly, I think this is a snapshot in which we resemble each other the most. I mean, look at that sass... those short shorts, that cute little bod, shiny red nails, that huge, carefree grin--I catch a glimpse of this photo and immediately start remembering stories about her from her high school days (Connie was a heartbreaker, kids, needless to say). And for me, as her daughter who never remembered her having a healthy body, seeing a version of her that clearly had so much energy, ability, life and spirit, well, I honestly just get so overwhelmed, staring at this old photo that I just cry and cry and cry.
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for all your prayers. The love, support and encouragement you've given me is incredible. I love you, and I'm forever grateful for the measures of friendship you've dedicated my way. Losing my mom was not entirely unexpected, but the grief is very complex. I find myself saying "my mom died," in hopes that it will completely sink in, that I'll truly know she's not waiting for me to come see her the next time I'm home in Texas. It's agonizing--some moments worse than others--but like any hardship, I'll get through it in time. Eventually.
And your loving words are truly pulling me through. Thank you, thank you.
I hope you've all had the merriest of Christmases, and that your year is winding to a good, solid close. 2012 has been a little bit rough on my side, here's hoping for a shinier 2013.
Love y'all. Merry Christmas.
more and more at: my dear mom