Today would have been my mother's 88th birthday, but she died exactly one year ago on her 87th. Unlike my father, my mom lived to what most people would consider a ripe old age. Even so, the passage of a year hasn't diminished that sense of loss. A year doesn't seem that long ago, but somehow it makes memories of my own childhood seem much more remote. I try to keep busy, but often feel less focused not having her around. It's also one of those times in my life when many friends seem more distant, and I miss them. Through some sadness and period of adjustment, I am always mindful of the lucky breaks that have come along in the past twelve months. This one year anniversary serves as a reminder to move on, but it has already been an ongoing process that I know she would want for me and my brother. Just because we move on doesn't mean we forget. I couldn't do that; nor would I want to.
No comments:
Post a Comment