I have often heard people talk about how things were not that great when they were growing up. They talk about a lack of communication with their parents and even with their siblings. When my Mother died, one of the most common things I heard was, what would you have said to your Mother or Father if you had had the time. Or, I never was understood by them so they never really got what I was about anyway.
I never felt this myself. When we needed to talk, we did. She always listened to what I had to say and I always felt heard. I grew up thinking that this was what everyone had. When I realized that this was not the case, I felt very sorry for those who had not experienced this.
In our family, Family came FIRST and Family is everything. The key word here of course is Family. Who do you consider this to be? It is not just blood. Look around and consider what Family means. Anyway, here is the story I was telling you about before I got off track.
For My Mother
It was not that long ago that my mother gave me a sweatshirt as a gift. I don’t really remember just what the occasion was and it doesn’t really matter.
When I first looked at it, I thought, that’s not really my colour but because it from my Mother, I immediately put it on anyway. I distinctly remember my first thought upon donning the sweatshirt. "This feels so nice and warm." That night I took the sweatshirt off, looked at it and thought, "This is not really my colour." I put it away and forgot about it for next month or so.
It was winter and a very cold night. I was going through my dresser looking for something warm to put on when I came across this sweatshirt. I looked at it and thought, "That’s not really my colour." It was cold, I was at home and I wanted something warm so I thought, who cares, and I pulled the sweatshirt on over my head. As soon as it settled into place my first thought was, "This feels so nice and warm." It was like my Mother had reached out to embrace me and keep me warm and safe. At that moment I thought of my Mother and how much I missed her so I picked up the phone and gave her a call. This was nothing unusual for me. I would call about every two weeks to chat with both Mom and Dad. If I left it for any longer, my Mother would call me. It always made me feel good to hear their voices. A few years have passed since I got that sweatshirt. I love it very much and wear it often.
This past September my Mother passed away. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of her and how much I love her. Whenever I feel the need to have my Mom’s embracing arms around me, I put on my sweatshirt. It gets worn quite a lot. One day the sweatshirt will fade and wear out but the love I have for her and the love I knew she had for me and all of her family will never fade away.
I miss you Mom and I love you with all my heart.