My Mom passed away four years ago today.
Rosamond Ruth, Mom. In life, ours was a very complicated relationship. However, with her illness and then passing, so much of the bitterness was forgiven, and in the end, there was only love. Now four years later, I find many moments where I miss my Mom. I wish I could call her, and hear her voice. There were so many times where I would call her and say, “Mom, just say it’s okay” and she would, then she asked what was up. As a small child, I recall sitting in her lap and holding her hand up to my lips. Not that I was kissing it, but just having her touch me, calmed me down. She was so beautiful, and yet, I do not think she ever knew that. But just look at the picture below, taken when she was maybe 40 years old.
I remember her sitting and listening to me when I had voice lessons. I was singing in Italian, and she loved that. Me? Not so much. But I sang and she was happy.
Mom loved her family. Her pocketbook weighed a ton. Why? Because she had pictures of each and every one of us in her bag. Not just to show to other people, but more than once I caught her looking them over. She etched the faces of each and every one of us in her memory.
When Mom was dying of cancer, I got out all of the old slides. I scanned in pictures of all of her loved ones Past and present. I made up a slide show on my laptop for her, so she could revisit each one of those moments. Mel, Janet and I played it for her at the Hospice. She loved that.
Amanda brought baby Savannah down, and Mom got to see her Great-granddaughter one last time. Oh how she adored Savi, and the thought that another generation of girls in her family would go on.
The last day I was with her, she was mostly drifting in and out. At one point I thought she was asleep, and I told her all the things I wanted to say to her. I hoped she heard me, where ever she was at that moment. I told her that I loved her so much.
She spoke quietly, slowly, and softly. “I’m here. And I love you too”.
Miss you Mom.