Happy Mother's Day

There was a big storm the today and it made me think of my Mom. Elijah and I went to the patio in search of lightning and thunder. I explained that the thunder was coming from heaven. Elijah and I talk about heaven; he knows his Grandma Anne is there. "She is always with you," I explain. "You can't see her with your eyes, but you can feel her in your heart." A picture of Mom is framed outside Elijah's room. She is surrounded by a field of yellow flowers and looking away from the camera. Her smile is genuine and beautiful. Elijah likes to blow her kisses.

Mom always loved butterflies, and I think about her whenever I see them. I like to imagine her flying around the world, seeking out waterfalls and sunsets in exotic places. When I meet a special person, I wonder if she had something to do with it. A good friend's mother recently died, and I wonder if she has encountered Mom. I picture them sitting in a cafe together, sipping tea and eavesdropping on our conversations.

It has been nearly seven years since her death, but Mom is still alive to me. I often dream of our reunion. The dreams feel so real that I wonder if her spirit has come to visit me in the night. Maybe she has been reincarnated into a new body, but her spirit is so present that I do not think so.

Becoming a mom myself has made me feel closer to Mom than ever. I find myself recreating my childhood memories. When I need Elijah to hurry up, we go "quick like a bunny!" We "wash our paws" after playing outside and we sing "Hushabye" at bedtime. We "make nice" when we've hurt someone and spend a great deal of time goofing around. If classical music is playing, I teach Elijah the sounds of the various instruments. I can't seem to differentiate between the viola and violin, but I try.

Food plays a prominent role in my childhood memories. The mall near our house had a french bakery, and Mom loved taking us there for croissants. An amazing cook and baker, some of her specialties were appetizers, brownies and chocolate chip cookies. She instilled within me a love of food and cooking which has only grown over the years. While I love cooking for its own sake, being in the kitchen brings about warm memories of my childhood. Mom was always hosting brunches and dinner parties. Deborah and I were her sous chefs; we snapped the ends of green beans, rolled spinach balls, and peeled potatoes. Sometimes I would complain about being delegated the boring tasks, but no one ever forced me into the kitchen. Mom was always rushing to get things ready on time, and I loved watching her in action. The atmosphere was both intense and calm at the same time. The food was consistently amazing, and when guests praised it, Mom never failed to give credit to her helpers.

I am so grateful for these and countless other beautiful memories. I used to think that it would be difficult to raise a child without my Mom's guidance, but I've come to recognize that her absence is incomplete. I need only reflect on my own childhood in order to know what my Mom would say in a given situation. In 5th grade, I interviewed Mom for an essay about her life. When it came time to discuss her career, she reviewed how meaningful her work as a writer and a photographer had been. "But my favorite career is being a mother," she said. My time with her was too short, but she filled me with more love in 24 years than most people receive in a lifetime. Happy Mother's Day, Mom.