Mom…I miss you…I’m listening to Bob Dylan tonight. (Blowin’ in the Wind…) Thanksgiving is approaching quickly. I am a little worried about how I do this without you. We always planned a menu, made a shopping list…together. This year I have to do it alone. The only other time I did this by myself was when you lived in Seattle. But even then, I had John’s family to share the holiday with.
Maria pointed out that my boys are my family now. I need to embrace that. I need to start a new tradition to replace the ones you and I had created. (Like a Rollin’ Stone…)
So, I’m going to borrow from last year. We went to the Salvation Army Staff Band concert last year. You were so sick. You were at the end of the row where your sisters were sitting. I looked at each of them – so healthy and strong. Then I saw you. Frail, thin, cold, pale…I stopped looking.
This year I’m bringing my boys to that same concert. It’s a way for me to remember you and to enjoy the memory of that concert with you. I know the boys are not too excited about it, but I want to honor your memory by doing this each year.
I don’t want anyone to forget how you grew up in the Salvation Army church. I don’t want my boys to forget that your mom and dad went to that church. I don’t want to forget how you and your sisters played in the Salvation Army band. I will do this to remember…I hope the boys understand…
(Subterranean Homesick Blues….your ring tone!)
We will work through this together – the boys and me. Alex is here watching me as I write. He has such a great heart so full of love. He expresses himself easily. He would like to write you a letter too! Watch for that one soon!
Love and grief are two sides of a coin. I learned that with Baby JJ’s death. If you risk your heart loving someone, you also risk the pain that comes when they leave. It is so worth it. My love for you is so deep, so constant, so painful. I’m embracing all of it tonight.
(Knock Knock Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door…is that what you did Mom?)