Today would have been my mother's seventy-seventh birthday. Needless to say I am missing her today.
I used to wonder who set up the time frame of one year's mourning? It always seemed like a stupid idea to put a time on sorrow. I still get sad thinking of my brother or dad and they've been gone now for 23 and 22 years. Who says on year is appropriate for being sad? But since my mom died in January, I have come to a better understanding of the "one year's mourning" period.
Since she died, I have had to celebrate my first birthday without her, my first trip to the Buttermilk cafe without her, my first Valentine's day, St. Patrick's day, Easter, the first day of spring, etc. And today, her first missed birthday.
Everytime I pass a florist shop or card aisle I am reminded that this will be the my first Mother's Day without her. I still have to get through my first day of summer without her, my first blooming onion without her, my first Christmas, Halloween, Labour Day, Canada Day, Thanksgiving, Remembrance Day, New Years Eve and worse yet to come, the first anniversary of her passing. She will not be here to share my excitement of my first guests at and Bed and Breakfast I have named for her. She will not see the Shasta Daisies I am planting for her. She won't see my first exhibit at the art gallery. She would have been so proud.
It is just four months since she died and I have missed sharing so much with her. I suppose one year is an appropriate time frame in which to mourn. I'm sure that even after that year there will still be many first's without my mom.
Oh how I miss for her. I miss her praise, her unconditional love, the sound of her voice, her unsolicited advice, her friendship, her encouragement and the smell of her hugs.