Sunday, May 8, 2011

Feeling Blue on Mother's Day

Last night - the first night warm enough to use our deck

My mother's absence is more pronounced than last year, even though, on Mother's Day, it had been only three months since she died.  Perhaps I was still numb or just lost in the survival mode of grief.  

Mom's death has a clarity now that it lacked then.

I dreamed about her Friday night.  My family was at the hospital, trying to decide whether to remove life support because Mom had been comatose for days.  

While we were discussing this dilemma, she woke up.  Mom began moving around and the nurse helped her up from the bed.  With assistance, she walked to the far end of her hospital room. 

As she walked back, she looked at me and stopped.  Mom said my name, took both of my hands in hers and communicated her love strongly and clearly, even though her exact words are lost to me now.

But the feeling of her love has stayed with me.


Yesterday was a stunning day, sunny and warm. B-man and I drove to Park City to enjoy the weather and do a little shopping.

As we're checking out at one of our favorite stores, a woman brings a little boy to the front who has lost his mom.  He's about five years old, sobbing and frightened.  The woman helping him says, 'we need to page this little guy's mother.'  

Right then, his mother walks up and says, 'it's okay, I'm here.'  Her son throws himself into her arms, still sobbing, and she comforts him, saying she was worried, too, and that she's sorry he got separated from her.

Suddenly, I remember a time I lost my mother in a grocery store when I was about the same age.  I, too, was crying and frightened and a store employee helped me find Mom.  I remember seeing her, clinging to her legs and crying tears of relief.

Watching this scene play out yesterday touched me deeply, tapping into my loneliness for Mom and the relief I would feel to see her just one more time.

Dreaming of her was a treasured gift.  Even though I'm feeling blue today, when I think of Mom, I will remember the only thing that really matters; her love for me.  And mine for her. 

photo my own


  1. I feel for you, and sympathetize with your loss. I always have similar Mother's Day feelings.

  2. Feeling for you, Josephine. <3

    A wonderful gift, though, the dream you received. I love when I have dreams like that of my father, though they are rare now that so many years have gone by since he passed away.

  3. What a touching post! It is a treasured gift to dream of her. If only we could summon them through those...but they appear less and less as time goes by. I wonder if it has to do with souls flying upwards or us getting on with our lives. In either case it's supposed to be a good thing.
    I genuinely feel for you.

  4. What a beautiful dream of your mother. I hope, despite the absence of your mother, you were able to enjoy your day, since you are a mother too!

    It's rare that we go shopping together these days, but here I am, almost 40 and I STILL panic when I lose my mother in the grocery store! As a child, I wandered away from her sooo many times. I guess the panic just became a natural reaction when mom's not in sight ;)

  5. Diana, thanks for your comment - Mother's Day brings about all sorts of feelings, as it did when Mom was alive, too. Amazing how we change and evolve over time. Hope you enjoyed your day.

    Hi Suzanne, the dream was lovely indeed and helped me tap into my love for Mom. So many thoughts and feelings accompany one's death, it's nice to be reminded of the love, pure and simple.

    Perfumeshrine, thanks for your comment. I suspect my dreams of Mom will fade over time, which makes them all the more precious now. I certainly needed this one. Glad that you and others can relate.

    JoanElaine, hello! I love your comment about shopping with your mother - so cute! Make the most of your time together and thanks - as always - for stopping by.



Related Posts with Thumbnails