Ten Years Ago

When you have children it feels almost as though every alumni parent is compelled to warn you of how quickly the time goes.  "The days are long but the years are short" is a favorite that  echos the sentiment of any and all exhausted parents across time and space.  Perhaps that is why the last ten years have passed so quickly.  Six and a half of them have been spent as a mom to our (now three!) girls.  

Agh, Mom.  You would LOVE them.  They are wild and unruly, love to roll down hills and tromp through streams fully clothed, re-home and name insects that they find around the yard, have "dance parties" in the living room, and sing at the top of their lungs in the car to songs you taught me 35 years ago in the back of our car on long trips.  And you would laugh at the things that they do to torment me because they are ALL the things I did to drive you crazy as well.  

I remember when the surgeon came in to relay the news of your diagnosis, how desperate I was to garner more time and how I sobbed when I realized that you would never know my children.  I didn't even know them yet but I could not fathom being a parent without my parent... without my person.  

To say that it has been a rough road is a bit of an understatement, but it has also been one of tremendous beauty and experience; things have unraveled me only to wrap me right back up again anew.  And, as much as I flail in the face of questions about the afterlife and spiritual world, I am steady in my sureness of you and your witness.  You've been along for the ride all along, woman.  

I can still hold your hand in my mind's eye and see you walking determinedly with a smile in my direction.  I hear your laugh and you calling my name from the top of the stairs.  Mostly these days I follow that inner voice that carries me home all over again... the one that reminds me "this too shall pass" or to embrace the beautiful world around me and just "live a little".  I hope and long for my girls to hear it too as they grow.  It has been the soundtrack to so much of my existence and what brings me back when I lose my way.  

Just now I am reminded of that old stitched Irish blessing that we had just outside the kitchen on Christmas Tree Hill (so eighties, am I right?)  I remember reading it and re-reading it, tracing the words with my fingers...

May the road rise up to meet you.

May the wind be always at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face;

the rains fall soft upon your fields 

And until we meet again

May God hold you in the palm of His hand

I miss you beyond words Mama but I carry you with me everywhere I go.