Friday, October 9th marked 19 years since my mom passed away. It also marked J1's 10th birthday and one decade of me being a mother, myself. On top of which, it was the end of a very long week that included a trial and a couple long work-related nights. While I would generally give myself a moment to reflect, be sad, and feel all the feels, there was just way too much going on for me to fall apart. So I compartmentalized and pushed ahead.
When my brother called me that afternoon on my way to J1's birthday dinner, I couldn't even have a meaningful conversation about it. He wanted to talk about what a milestone 19 years was; how we've been without her for almost as long as we had her. I just wasn't in the right space.
I slowly unboxed all the feelings over this past week.
Last week, perhaps as a reminder, was one of those weeks that I really could have used my mom. As I struggled to figure out the best way to do something under the pressure of a clock that was slowly ticking down, I remembered how in Fall 2000 I was sitting in an overpriced studio apartment in NYC struggling to finish an urban design paper. My dad had agreeably driven me around Sun City West over Thanksgiving break while I took pictures, much to the suspicion of many a senior citizen, of Del Webb's planned community. As I sat at my desk flipping through actual prints of these photographs (I think I used a disposable camera *gasp*), I could not for the life of me figure out how to structure my writing. I remember my mom calling and me being upset and crying. While she didn't know the first thing about urban design, she told me that she knew I could figure it out. She was right. And I did. Last week, even without her, was really no different. I cried. I took a break. I thought some more. And I eventually figured it out.
I think of that conversation with her often when I struggle with figuring something out. She probably also told me to pray about it, to which I almost certainly responded that God was not going to write my paper for me, just like he wasn't going to teach me calculus in college. Although I probably should have and it certainly couldn't hurt, I likely did not pray about. She would be happy that we do, however, often ask God for help particularly when it comes to J2's ability (or lack thereof) to make good choices. Not entirely sure it works, but again, I assume it cannot hurt. I digress.
My mom was tremendous. In her love for the Lord, in her love for family and community, in all things. As I help my kids navigate developing resilience in school, athletics, life, I, like my mom did for me, tell them that I know they can figure it out if they just keep trying. I will even tell them the story about my urban design project, and how I did, just like she said I would, figure it out.
And while it is nothing like writing a paper, we all also keep figuring out how to just keep going without her even as the years tick by and the time she was with us becomes a smaller and smaller fraction of our time on this earth. Because no matter how long I live, the space in my heart for her never gets smaller.
And this, among other things, is how I will remember always her ... unmolding some god awful Jell-O "salad" to accompany the even more god awful lutefisk for Christmas Eve. Oh, and yes, that's a tub of Tom & Jerry's, which I also find rather barfy. What are we doing?!
