Missing Mom

A few weeks ago I saw reminders everywhere that I should wake up early the next day, October 8th, for a total lunar eclipse that was to be visible throughout the United States.  Not our part of the United States, of course, since by the beginning of October Oregon is just as likely to be covered by clouds as not.  But if it had been clear, I would have been able to see this.

It made me smile.  October 8th would have been my mom’s 74th birthday.  When I was growing up she would always tell me that Cynthia, the name that she and I shared, meant “moon goddess.”  Of course the moon would be performing on my mom’s birthday.

It’s been almost 17 years since my mom died.  I’m used to living a life without her and I am usually ok with that, but in the last few month I’ve missed her more than normal.

Several months ago I had an interaction with someone that made me feel my motherless status.  It was clear that the other person disapproved of my thoughts & feelings on a really fundamental level.  In that moment I just wanted to be around my mother and feel her love for me and her approval of me.  Even if she had disagreed with me on the topic of that interaction, she would have disagreed while still loving me completely.  She was wonderful that way.

One morning this summer Jenna and I went to our favorite farm to pick berries.  I looked over at her in the other seat of the van and was just amazed at how lovely she was, and a little frustrated that she is so unable to see that.  I just wished that I could have asked my mom—is this how you felt about me?  Was your heart almost unbearably full when you looked at me?  Did you wish you could find a way to show me how much I *was* to counteract my own personal vision of how much I lacked?

Russ’s mom’s death 2 weeks ago brought up all sorts of unexpected grief about my mom’s death.  Russ’s mom lived until she was 85.  She lived long enough not only to see all of the grandchildren but to see a lot of great grandchildren as well.  She was so lucky that way.  I often wonder--what kind of 74 year old would my mom have been?  Would she have still been vigorous?  My mom didn’t live long enough to see her children all grown or to see them marry, let alone see their children.  I think of how delighted she would be with all of her grandchildren.  With my three youngest that were not born until several years after she died.  With her two great-grandchildren.  I’m so glad that we had her as long as we did, and I’m so grateful for the gift of love she had.  But I wish she had lived longer.  I sure miss her sometimes.