March 22, 2018: Nine Years Later

It’s hard to believe it’s been 9 years since my mother passed away. I went through the motions of today: going to work, tending to my left wrist while managing toddlers, doing what I needed to do for the classroom. Sometimes it’s better to just keep my mind occupied, to think about my mom until later, like right now.

My mother was always very reserved, yet I could always tell that she was always very genuine about her thoughts and feelings. When she spoke, her words truly came from her heart. Sometimes I would call my mom and there would be gaps of silence, but we were both involved in each other’s conversation. I know that may sound odd, since two people naturally feel the need to fill in gaps of silence with an endless stream of words. That wasn’t necessary with Mom. We each understood where the other person was coming from.

I know that Mom is always with me, that she’s never far from me. I wish I could speak to her on the phone one more time though, as I’m enduring this struggle with my wrist, and other life situations. Her presence was always memorable. 

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