Stephanie Marie

I’m feeling pretty sad today, even though the weather is warm and sunny and spring-like.  I’m missing my Mom. Today would have been her 89^th birthday. But she’s gone – she passed away on September 15, 1996.  It was sudden, even though she was sick.  I just did not see it coming and was in shock and mourning for quite some time. It was the day she was supposed to move in with me, and preparations for her homecoming abruptly became funeral arrangements.

Sixteen years have raced by in the wink of an eye.  So much has happened with my family and with me. Things are so different now. I would love nothing more than to sit down with my Mom and have a glass of her famous home-brewed iced tea and a piece of her cake with sweet icing and just talk awhile. She didn’t say much or give her opinion often, but when she did, she was right.  She was a good listener.  I wish I could have her here to listen to me now because I could sure use someone to talk to.  I’d like to tell her about my daughters – her granddaughters – whom she loved so much and was so proud of.  I’d like to tell her how well they turned out and what great lives they live. She would have been so proud to see them graduate from college.  She would like their fiancées and would joke around with them.  She would have loved to be here for their weddings and to help pick out their bridal gowns.

I would like to have the opportunity to tell her she was right about quite a few things, mostly about my ex-husband. She did give her opinion on that, but I didn’t listen. I don’t think she would say “I told you so.”  She would be more like, “it’s his loss, not yours.” She would be sad to know that I lost my job but proud that her son, my brother, stepped up and helped.  She would be concerned to hear about my troubles these past few years, but she would tell me patience is a virtue and that everything would turn out alright.  She would tell me to pray to God and ask the Blessed Mother to intercede.  I thank my mother for my deep faith in God.

My Mom was kind and gentle and sweet. She lived simply and never wanted for much. She was a nurturer, sort of like how I turned out to be.  She took plates of food to elderly neighbors and always had the neighborhood kids over for lunch or dinner. Our house was always opened, especially in the summer which was like camp for my cousins.  She was a great cook and baker, and holidays were amazing.  I wish I could go over her house one more time for an Easter feast or Christmas celebration.

Time passes much too quickly, and some days you’re left with an aching heart wishing you could be with those who have passed just one more time. Today is that day for me. Happy Birthday, Mom.  Thanks for being a great mom. I miss you.