Missing Pieces

Today would have been my Mom’s birthday. No, I don’t know how old she would have been. I never wanted to know her age, I wanted to think of her as that beautiful, ageless, person who was there from the beginning. But I didn’t appreciate her enough.

It was hard, right from the beginning. We butted heads from as far back as I remember. I always thought we were too different. Now I think maybe we were too much alike. All I know is that when she died, she took part of me with her. I’ve “recovered” and moved on with my life, but there are so many times I want to show her something, or share something I heard or saw. My grandchildren, her great-grandchildren won’t know her very well. They didn’t have the chance to know her like I did, like my children did.

I feel her presence right now. Is she, or some part of here, here? You may scoff, but I believe she is. Believe or disbelieve, it doesn’t matter to me. I’m just going to go with the feeling.


Mom and Nannie outside

This is my mom and her mother, my grandmother. I miss them both.

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