So while taking a walk the other day and as I often do while walking, I pulled out my phone and prepared to ask Siri to call someone. It’s a great time to chat. No distractions, just plenty of time to talk with a loved one. Only this time I was unable to make the call. You see, when I started speaking to Siri I realized I was asking her to call my mom.
What? My mother passed away on April 27 and since that time I’ve thought about her a lot. Often times with sweet memories; other times with sadness. But never once have I thought to call her until the other day.
And right on the heels of calling Mom came the realization that I could never do that again. And that, my friends, led to the waterworks being turned on. Instead of walking and talking to Mom, I walked and remembered her. I talked with God about her. And I realized how very much I miss her as I cried my way through my neighborhood.
After arriving home, I called my sister-in-law to share the experience as I knew she would completely understand. Because she had lost her father earlier in 2016, too. Since both our parents had lived enjoyable and long lives, and because both are in Heaven with the Lord right now, most of the times we experience the joy of knowing we’ll be reunited with them again one day. Yet, sometimes, the sorrow of missing them rushes in and sticks around awhile, before once again retreating. I knew Linda would understand. She did. And she provided that human touch I needed at the moment.
This will be my first Christmas without my mom. For just about all my 63 years we’ve been together each December 25, a tradition that began on Christmas 1953…when I was born.
This year there will be no homemade coconut cream birthday pie lovingly made by Mom. There will be no reminders that when she gave birth to me on Christmas that meant she wasn’t home with her 16-month-old daughter, my sister. There will be no memories of how long it used to take to open all the presents because we insisted on watching each person open every single gift one at a time. Indeed, one very special someone will be missing from the festivities. And this daughter will no doubt experience her loss all over again.
I know for many Christmas can be a reminder of what isn’t rather than a celebration of what is. So I will allow the sorrow to wash its waves over me but I will also smile and be ever so grateful that God gave me a precious, wonderful mother to raise me and point me to Jesus.