Twelve years. The same amount of time my daughter has been alive. Twelve whole years and she is gone. The pain has eased with time but the hole in my heart doesn’t get smaller as the days and years pass. The cliche that no one can take the place of your mom is really quite true. Because no one will ever fill the corner of my heart that is my mom’s. I just pray to God I get more years with my children than I had with my mom. I was newly married when she was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis then pregnant with Brad when my sisters and I had to put her in a nursing home. When she died I was 27 yrs old and had two littles ones ages 2 and 8 months. God took her before I was ready for her to go but I realize she did what God called her to do here and now she is dancing and free from the disease that ravaged her body. And I miss her. But the legacy she left is one that my heart will hold on to until I get to see her again.
On Memorial Day we went to her grave, which I don’t like to do because she isn’t there, and put flowers there for her. She always loved pink flowers. So mom, on this day that most people label as the day you died, I know it’s really the day you lived. The day you ran into Jesus’s arms and got to hear him say “well done my good and faithful servant”. It’s the day my sisters and I shed so many tears of sorrow but it’s the same day you shed tears of joy as your body was made whole again and you were able to walk and run through heaven’s beauty. And some day, I will see you again, mommy. I love you!