Missing My Mommy

I really miss my mom tonight.

One of the harder parts about grief is the unexpectedness. I can walk past pictures of my mom, tell stories about her, miss certain aspects of my relationship with her... all without incident.

Then, for whatever reason, something small hits home.

When it does, you sorta see a "highlight reel" of things you remember. You think about certain images, or the way hugging your mom was different from hugging everyone else. You remember little chats or jokes.

Strangely enough, you also continue to struggle with the things you always struggled with.

One of the things that I could never get over with my mom was the fact that she could never relax (I have no idea why this is making me cry so much, even as I write this). She was always angry or frustrated or speeding along to the next thing. Oh, of course there were times when she laughed and talked with everyone, but she always felt a little uptight. I wish I understood that part of her better.

I can still remember trying, time and time again, to get her to calm down a bit. "Mom, just RELAX." It happened over and over. She never did.

To this day, I'm not sure I ever entirely understood her point of view. I suppose I may have to wait to have kids of my own, or to see what Samantha is like when she has kids. I hope so. I think it will be easier to feel like I made my mom proud when I can identify with her perspective.

This may all sound like rambling to you, but you'll understand at some point. In some ways, it's really hard to understand the way you feel about a person for whom you have a fierce love but whom you never fully understood. I wish my mom were here so I could keep trying.