I’m Tired of Wishing

The place where I go to visit Angel Mom is down the road from my office. And while there are no significant dates that make me miss her just now, I have been taking her flowers almost every Monday, and sometimes go back again later in the week just to sit with her and talk. 

I talk to her all the time anyway, but there’s something about the peacefulness of the cemetery that is calming, and makes me feel closer to her. 

This was “our” conversation today:
Mommy, I wish you could see Peanut run cross country. I wish you could see Bird play basketball. I wish you could hear them talk and be excited about things they are learning in school. I wish you could hug me and I could feel it. I wish I could call you and get advice when my life with Peanut is too much and I don’t know what to do.  I wish you could make me laugh when I feel sad. I wish I didn’t have to come here to visit you. 

And her response: silence.

I’m tired of wishing for her. I’m tired of watching other people who are being impatient with their mothers. I’m tired of using losing her as an example to try and explain to Peanut how lucky she actually is, and Peanut not really caring. I’m tired of being a motherless daughter.

As I sat there feeling sorry for myself a beautiful and huge orange Monarch butterfly appeared and was fluttering around and almost flew into my van. Then, as my signs from Heaven usually do, the butterfly just disappeared. Although the butterfly was beautiful it didn’t comfort me much this time.  I found myself wishing it had stayed longer. 

Just another wish I’m tired of making.

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