“In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the starts were laughing when you look at the sky at night.”
~The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint Exupery
It’s been almost 14 years since she became my Angel Mom, and most of the time the hole in my heart isn’t so large that my sadness is overwhelming. This hole has defined me now, and will always put a slight shadow over all the moments of my life.
Holidays are tough, and honestly if it wasn’t for Peanut and Bird I’d rather not celebrate Mother’s Day and I don’t want to partake in all the hustle and bustle of Christmas. I’d rather just be alone. But sometimes it’s not the events I expect to be hard that are the hardest to get thru, sometimes it’s the random, mundane moments of daily life that knock me down.
Today I was watching “Parenthood” on DVR and almost all of the female characters had important conversations with their mothers. And by the time the show ended, I was extremely sad because I can no longer have any conversation with my mother, important or not. Well I can talk to her, but I can’t hear her answer.
So when Mr. G is impatient with his mother for telling him the most random story as he’s trying to get her off the phone, I feel anger at him that he doesn’t know what he’s got and doesn’t appreciate that his mother is there to babble on even though he’s busy. When I see mothers and daughters talking in real life or screen life, I am jealous that they can still do that. Why did we have to be separated, when I had no one else to help me get through it?
So when I told the extended G family that I was trying to make writing my career, and didn’t get much of a reaction, I felt cheated because even though I’m part of their family, I’m not the most important thing to them, and I don’t have anyone who would shout it from the rooftops how proud of me they are. I don’t have anyone who loves me as much as she did. I know, Mr G and our children love me, but it’s different, and doesn’t stand up to a mother’s love.
One of my sympathy cards had the quote I started this post with, and at the time it gave me comfort. But sometimes now, it just makes me mad. I don’t want to look at the stars to see her, and to think that she is laughing with all the other souls, far away from me. I want her here, a phone call away. It’s not fair she’s gone.
This is an excerpt from my book. Please let me know if you would like to read more.