On Missing My Mother

I remember the first Mother’s Day after my mom died, it was awful.  Going through the big retailers in the weeks leading up to Mother’s Day was very painful.  The balloons and flowers were reminders that I no longer had any reason to buy a Mother’s Day gift.  It seemed as if there was a huge absence within my essence.  It was an absence that would never get better.

Every time my friends talked about how challenging their own mother was, it sparked anger in me. I said “at least you have a mother”.  I was angry.  How could she leave us so soon and at such an important time?

Over the years (21) the struggle lessened.  I became less angry and my pain less acute.  There are some days, like today, when randomly the hurt becomes acute again.  I don’t know why or wherefore that the hurt just bubbles up within me.

I wish that there was a comforting thought or prayer to make it go away, but there is not.  It just is.