This morning I was about to pick up the phone because I wanted to talk to my mother. I glanced at the clock to see what time it was. Way too early. Not only is she a late sleeper, but it’s three hours earlier in Las Vegas than it is in New York. Not to mention the biggest problem…
I don’t have a mother any more.
It’s so weird. Sometimes I can’t believe she isn’t here any more. Where is she anyway? I honestly don’t understand death. One minute you’re here and the next you’re gone. Gone where?
Mommy, I have some things to tell you. I miss you. I love you. I have some interesting news for you. I want to talk to you about my children. I want to talk to you about my boyfriend. I have some good things to tell you, some questions to ask you. I wasn’t ready for you to die Mommy.
In my sleep you are often there. I dream of you so vividly. When I wake up I lose you once again.
I am so glad that you died the way you did, as you had always hoped. In your sleep. Peacefully. After eating some of your favorite ice cream, fed to you by your adoring husband. You drifted away painlessly. That is comforting to know.
But where do we go?
Sometimes I go to sleep and when I wake up I am so glad to be alive. I think of the fact that we could go to sleep and never wake up. I don’t think we would know that we are gone, but I think of those I would leave behind, most importantly my daughter and my son. I know that they are grounded and smart and capable, but I still want to be here for them to help guide their journeys into adulthood.
I want to be here for my boyfriend until we are both very, very old. After waiting forty seven years to meet him I want at least forty seven with him. Is that too much to ask for?
Hi Mommy. I love you. I am sending you my thoughts. I think I know what you would say. I miss you.