My mom died when I was almost nine. One week before my 9th birthday, to be exact. She didn't die of her own will, she didn't die of an illness, she was taken from us. She didn't have time to say goodbye. She never woke again to hug us and tell us how much she loved us. She was robbed of that.
For almost twenty years I mourned. Mourned for my loss, for my brother and sister's loss, for my Dad's loss of his wife and mother of his children. But after having my own children, I have a new reason to mourn. I mourn for my mom. For so long I've felt how hard it is to lose a mom. But now I can only imagine how hard it would be to leave my children. It must have broken her heart.
As a mom, there's always a sense of duty to your family. To your kids, you're the hug-giver, the reader of stories, the boo-boo kisser, the "look"-giver, the activity director, the answer-haver, the chef, the maid, the courier, the photographer, the Mom, the everything. To your husband, you're his confidante, his therapist, his buddy, and a lot of the above too. Ha. As I know too well, this can be exhausting. But I can't imagine having it taken away from me. The thought of it makes me shudder.
Nothing compares to losing a child, but I have to bet leaving your child must be a close second. I look at my own sweet kids and pray two things. First, that they be kept safe. Second, that their Dad and I never have to leave them. I know what it did to me; it was, to say the least, devastating. And I can only feel sorry for my mom that she had to endure that. It wasn't her fault! She did nothing wrong! And she still had to leave us. Mom. Gina. I'm sorry. She didn't deserve that. No one does.
I know in Heaven you only feel good things, but I can't help but feel like I need to tell her that it's okay. We're okay. I like to think that she still mothers us from up there. Takes care of us, watches over us. I also think she had a hand in sending us Peggy. Daddy may think he won Peggy over with his, er, "charm", but I know otherwise. ;)
I hesitated to write this. I'm sobbing. I can hardly see to type. But if you haven't noticed, I haven't blogged in a while. Nothing has nagged at me to be written. For some reason, this did. It started a couple of days ago, when I watched Beaches (how have I never seen that movie before???) But when Hillary died and left the little girl, it reminded me of how it would feel to leave my own kiddos. And, well, you see where I'm going. That feeling has been a sticker in the bottom of my foot for days. Festering, manifesting itself into something I can't ignore. I knew it would be hard to write, though. As I once told my therapist many years ago, I'm afraid of the emotions that get involved. So please, if you have my number or if you're friends with me on FB, please don't comment or say anything. I'll just start crying again. And then I'll get embarrassed.
So I'll end with this: Mama, I'm so sorry for being selfish, only thinking of what I lost. You lost us too. I love you so much. And I'll never stop missing you or you us. We'll see each other again someday.