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.
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