I’ve been thinking about my mom a lot lately as Mother’s Day and the fourth anniversary of her death approach. Last night I had a pity party for myself as I pondered why I have to be motherless and childless. Shouldn’t it be enough to just have to deal with one struggle? I either want my mom back or I want a child. Since I know one option is impossible I have to put all my hopes on the other. I wish the big guy upstairs, or whoever is in charge of these kinds of things, would please send me a child. I even started talking to my mom last night, asking her to put in a good word for me.
I don’t know if I really believe in signs from beyond the grave, but every once in a while I experience something that I choose to take comfort in. I stopped at my parent’s house the other day to pack up old stuffed animals and school books that I have been meaning to remove from my old room for years. (I think it’s about time that I do so since we’ve set our sights on cleaning out the entire house.) I took a break and walked around the quiet house, shrouding myself in memories. I found myself on the screen porch so I sat down on the swing, one of my favorite spots in the house. I surveyed the weed infested yard, which made me sad. My mom loved gardening and the yard used to be full of flowers and beautiful things. Suddenly, I noticed a single flash of yellow – one daffodil was poking up through the madness, the only thing in bloom in the entire yard. I walked outside to get a better look. Next to it, my mom’s peonies were beginning to pop out of the ground (my mom really loved peonies). It made me happy to know that something she cared for is still living. Part of me really wanted to believe that my mom made sure this single daffodil would be in bloom when I was there to see it – her way of saying hello.
Another otherworldly experience occurred yesterday. My cousin emailed to tell us about a dream she had. In her dream it was her mother’s birthday and she and her siblings each stood up to say something nice about their mother in front of all the party guests. My cousin turned around and my mom was standing there. My mom gave her a hug and told her that their speeches reminded her of when her own kids spoke at her funeral. My siblings and I had indeed all said something special during the funeral service. If this was actually my mom visiting my cousin in her dream I believe that she wanted to let us know how proud she is of all of us. She knew that my cousin would share this dream with all of us, because she’s shared dream stories about deceased relatives with us before. It was a surefire way to pass a message.
Perhaps I make this all up in my head but it’s reassuring to think of these instances as signs of my mom’s continued presence in my life.
If you can hear me – message received. I love you too.