Mommy Dear(est) Daughter Dear(est)

Today is hard.  In fact, Mother's Day hasn't been easy since 1998 when I was told it was nearly impossible for me to bear children.  It was the deepest grief in my life until Mother's Day 2021 when my mom spoke her last intentional words to me.  She had stopped eating and drinking the previous week and most of her time was spent sleeping or staring vacantly while my dad and I kept her company.  I was playing her favorite worship music, fussing over her, rubbing her feet, holding her tiny hands, and telling her over and over that I loved her, which had always been difficult for me.  Suddenly she stirred and spoke clearly, in a strong voice that we had not heard for years.  Although private, her words were a gift and left me in a puddle of tears.  

The years preceding her final breath were intense and stressful.  There was not a lot of time to contemplate what life would look like when she was gone.  In fact, in the earlier stages of caregiving, I was fairly certain that I would not miss her much, if at all.  I was wrong.  Two years later, I miss her MORE.  Maybe because every day as an orphan makes me more acutely aware of my singleness and childlessness. Maybe because my parents were the glue in my family and I feel rudderless now. There are many more reasons, but the most important one is that I found healing and redemption in caring for her and loving her in the ways I wished she could have loved me, and I wanted more time to rebuild our relationship.  

She died the next Sunday in 2021 and I shudder now at the ugliness that was in my heart, the arrogance in thinking I wouldn't miss her.  The stupidity of holding onto the wounds of the past at the expense of making happy memories in the present, of refusing to see my own culpability in our troubled relationship.  Many times throughout my life she was Mommy Dearest, and many other times I was Daughter Dearest, albeit without the wire hangers.  But at the end she was simply my dear mother, and I was her dear daughter.  As hard as her last years were, I am forever grateful that God's mercy gave me a chance to heal from our tougher years before it was too late.  Time is short and ultimately life and death are the most important things.  So today I planted some living things in her honor.  Plants that I HOPE I can keep alive and nuture better than I was able to care for her.