The song “HardCandy” by the Counting Crows was playing on my iPod Friday as I was taking my lunch time walk. It stopped me cold in my tracks all because of the lines, “When you sleep you find your mother in the night, but she stays just out of sight. So there isn’t any sweetness in the dreaming.” I was suddenly overcome by ridiculous snotty hic-ups from crying and trying to catch my breath. My Mama died over thirteen years ago, and there are moments where missing her washes over me like a rogue wave, splattering me down on rough sand, leaving me breathless and worse for wear.
The catch of loss hits, unexpected. The sun literally glints off of my son’s hair, and I suck in a breath knowing my Mother can’t share that beauty with me. My daughter walks across a stage without fear, and I wonder if my Mama knows. I wonder if she knows that every good thing I do comes from her. Every random act of kindness I have done is because she did, with little thought or effort, while my sisters, brother and I watched.
I feel her in the company of my sisters, and I revel in the gift of those moments. I miss her. I don’t live in the past, or rush towards the time to be with her. I long for that one true love. I know what I feel for my children, she felt for me, and if I am very fortunate my children will pass that gift on to their families.
I finish listening to the song. I walk on, changing tunes. I continue, slightly red-eyed and hic-upping, blessed for what I had, and hoping what I give measures up.