Blah

Every December I go through a blah phase, usually a couple days after the BIG day. This year is no exception. I used to think that it was the let down from the frenzy known as Christmas. Once I went back to college I thought it was the let down from the semester and Christmas. Now I know that I just plain miss my mom.

We never outgrow our need for our moms, just get sick and tell me who you want to take care of you. When the nurse placed Resident Teenager in my arms my first thought was of my mom. When he cried and cried and cried, I wanted her to give me sage advice on what to do. When Resident Little Dude got a concussion from ice sliding (purposely down a hill on his playground) I knew that my mom would know exactly what to say to calm my fears.

I live my life like this, a motherless daughter. My mom died in a car accident--- days shy of my 9th birthday. 1984 was not my year. I missed her with a little girl heart, teenage heart, young woman heart, an adult woman heart, and now a mother's heart. I wonder and squint hard to see the past. I can't remember her voice. I see her 28 year old face in my memory. I vividly recall her hands with bright red fingernail polish. Of course, in my memories I am still an 8 year old girl--- we are both trapped in memories.

She was a tomboy, funny, and serious. She could grow anything... roses in the Arizona desert, no problem. She could make anything... she made ALL of my clothes. I wanted to redo my bedroom... no problem a whirlwind trip to the fabric store followed by a couple of whirlwind days at the sewing machine. She was patient. I would "wash" the dishes and she would secretly rewash them... I never knew until well into my adulthood. She was a terrible cook--- spaghetti should not be a soup dish! She was stubborn. She was loving.

Life as a motherless daughter is lonely. I have The Boys and they are wonderful, maddening, sweet, surly, and mine; yet I always wonder what my life would be like with my mom in it instead of memories. I try to wrap my brain around it, but it is too abstract--- even for my crazy brain.

I just miss her, seemingly simple, but terribly complex.

I have my sister. We play the roles of mom, sister, friend, crazy aunt, and confidant. She's nuts... I am nuts... but we love each other with a reckless abandon reserved for mothers.

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