Four Years and Four Million Memories

Four years ago today, I lost my best friend, my mom, to diabetes. During that time, the Earth has continued to rotate, we’ve elected a new President, my oldest entered middle school, my youngest went from a toddler to a little boy, I’ve been to new places and seen new things, I’ve struggled, I’ve cried, I’ve laughed, I’ve tried to figure out where life should take me next. So many times, my hand has reached out for the phone to call her and seek her advice. So many times, I’ve seen her face in a crowded place or heard a voice that reminded me of hers, only to realize it was someone else. So many times, I’ve thought to myself “She would’ve loved this” or even “She would’ve hated this”, not able to ask her myself but just knowing, because I knew her so well, as she knew me.

She missed my 40th birthday, my oldest daughter becoming a teenager, my middle daughter performing in the school talent show, my son learning to read so easily. She missed my niece getting married and buying her first home, my nephew starting to look at colleges, another niece starting high school this year. It still doesn’t seem fair, even after four years, that a woman who spent her entire life focused on family and nurturing those she loved would now be missing so many major moments in our lives, moments she would’ve cherished and celebrated. The hole she left behind never goes away. She was one of a kind.

Yet as the years have passed, I’ve had to rely on my instincts and all the things she taught me to get through those challenges where I would’ve normally picked up the phone and said “What do you think I should do?” And, you know what? Most of the time, I’ve been really proud of the answers I came up with for myself. She gave me an incredible foundation and set such a great example and I know she didn’t truly leave me alone to fend for myself. She gave me the tools I needed and I’m making it work. I hear her words come out of my mouth sometimes when I’m talking to my children and I think “There she is again” and I know I’m not alone. My mother helped me become the mother I am today and there’s a little part of her there in so many of the things I do. Even her illness inspires me, because I know she wouldn’t want any of her children or grandchildren to travel the painful road of health issues that she had. She’s my inspiration to get to the gym when I really don’t want to work out, my motivation to make healthy choices for myself and my family. I can’t think of a better way to honor her than for her struggles and her courage to make a difference in the way we live our lives for the better.

Last week while on vacation in Colorado, we had an abundance of hummingbirds at the house we rented. Hummingbirds have reminded me of my mom since she passed away (see the sidebar on my blog). Call it a coping mechanism, but these tiny visitors last week were a wonderful reminder that she is still in my heart, even though she is no longer physically with us.

When we first lost my mom, it was all I could do to think of her without crying. Four years later, I’m happy to say that I often think of her without crying. Oh, it still happens (like right now), but more often the memories make me smile. I know she’d be glad about that.

I love you, Mom. And I’m proud to say your legacy lives on: