Happy Birthday, Mom

Grief comes in waves.

It’s foolish to think I can make it through January without tears.

It’s been 15 years since my mother died.  January 18 was her last day on earth. As the sun was rising, He came and escorted her home.

I remember the day with precision and clarity. I remember the room… the curtain colors and pattern…. the dim lights and the thick pad beneath the carpet.  I remember the chill in the air, the dusting of snow and the wind blowing outside. The hospice room was quiet. Everything set to make her comfortable and peaceful for those who sat beside her. Nothing to disturb. No beeping monitors. No hustling in the hallways.  Just resting and waiting.

Grief comes in waves and sometimes in torrent downpours.

This January has been full of events and visits. I have been pushing grief aside waiting for a time to deal.

I didn’t want to go there… not now… not yet. I wasn’t ready to remember again.

Sometimes in remembering I have to remember all the hard parts, the sad parts and the parts of watching her suffer. And sometimes… I’d rather not.

That was this year.

I was hoping the day would slip by and I wouldn’t have to remember how much I miss her or how much I wish she were here.  I wouldn’t have to remember how I wanted to call her on the phone and tell her about my day. Remembering reminds me I no longer can.

It’s exhausting and draining at times and sometimes I’d rather skip all that and move on.

But in skipping that I somehow feel I’m skipping her… and I don’t want her skipped over.

This week, it all came flooding back to me through a song on the radio.

That’s how it happens some times.  One moment you think you’re fine and the next you know you’re not.

 

Today is my mom’s birthday. She would be 78 today and my eyes keeping spilling over with tears.

Matt says… “They must be blowing trumpets in heaven today for Mama Green!”

How sweet for him to remember that way.

Grief comes in waves. 

We remember and never really forget.

A memory…. a song…. a calendar date — and it all becomes fresh again.

Today I choose to remember.

Happy Birthday, Mom!  We remember your laughter, your smile… and your red cowboy boots worn in style.

We love you and miss you everyday.

****************************

Linking up with: #HeartEncouragement

18 thoughts on “Happy Birthday, Mom

  1. Debbie and I talk about Mama Green all the time. One story we talk about most is about her getting all her kids ready for church on a Sunday morning. Getting well beyond the point of irritation, Mama Green would shout, “You kids hurry up and get ready for church so you can experience the love of Jesus!” After arriving at the church, she would greet everyone with smiles.

    I also appreciated she made her home open and welcome for everyone.

    I wish I had met Mama Green.

    -Charlie

    Liked by 1 person

    • Yes, that is true. I remember those days were crazy! Getting 6 kids ready and in the vehicle without losing one’s patience is quite a feat! 🙂 And yes, her door was always open. She had many neighborhood kids and our school friends who knew her as a second mom. To many she was Mama Green.
      Thanks for jumping in and sharing! Love and hugs to you both and your girls!

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  2. Rachel, this was beautiful. Thank you. This year has been difficult for me also, missing her as the tears fall. I think that is why I have put off scrapbooking her pictures. Your words encourage me to dive in and enjoy the memories even through the pain.

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  3. Red cowboy boots? Sounds like my kind of gal! Good memories. Weep it’s your time to weep so much going on . Be blessed and weep

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    • Yes, red cowboy boots. She loved those boots and would have worn them everywhere if she could have. She thought they were the most comfortable thing. I’m thinking she might have gone boot shopping up there and got herself a new pair! 😉
      Thank you for your kind thoughts. Love to you.

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  4. I am crying now too…I just remember that she loved me and I saw how she loved you, all of you…I will never forget her making sing with her, telling me that God wanted to hear me sing. I will always remember how she would rest her hand on everyones head and say a small prayer. She will ever be one of the most beautiful people Have ever known.

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  5. Beautiful thoughts Rachel. It’s February for me. Mom will be gone on February 10 for five years. I, too remember that day too vividly and the visitation on Valentine’s night, and florists having trouble getting flowers to us because of the week. Hugs to you. What a tribute to your Mom.

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  6. My mother died in January also–a letdown each year after the holidays, if I go there. This year, I did not. I can’t explain it but I feel my parents’ presence really strongly when I need it. I was in a bad place–really feeling it like you are–and then I found some old home movies. Seeing my parents and hearing them again was healing, not hard. I hope you have something like that to turn to . . .

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you. Yes, you get it. My siblings and I are close in being able to process. Even writing this post and digging out pictures of her helped so much with the processing this year. Every year is different, as you understand, and it’s always a new way to remember and process the loss. Thanks for your thoughts. I always enjoy hearing from you.

      Liked by 1 person

  7. What a beautiful tribute to your mom, Rachel. I’m so sorry you lost your mom early. My dear mother is 76, and I keep telling myself she won’t be around forever, as if to prepare myself. I want to enjoy her while she’s here, which is one reason my family and I are moving back to America this summer.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you for your thoughts. Yes, she was far too young to be leaving here. We miss her all the time. I’m so thankful for the Truth that this is not our forever home and we will one day be together again.
      That’s exciting to hear you are coming back to the States. Thanks for jumping into the conversation. Blessings ~

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