Yesterday I had this presence of sorrow all around me. I tried to stay busy so it wouldn’t press in on me. I am not sure why it was there. Saturday was a wonderful day. We had a beautiful Mass to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary. It was in the beautiful chapel at St. Monica’s, celebrated by a holy servant of our Lord, Fr. Jason and we were surrounded by our friends. And Sunday was spent together as a family at home. Maybe the sorrow was because I was missing my mom. I really miss her when something special is happening in my life.
Growing up, our relationship was tumultuous. For whatever reason, I was the person she took out all her anger on. I was afraid to be around her because I never knew when she was going to lash out at me. I always felt like I was walking on egg shells when I was around her. I tried so hard to predict what she wanted me to say or do. I desperately wanted her to love me. Once I became an adult, things slowly began to change. It became a little easier to be around her. I remember one Mother’s Day after she opened the card I gave to her, she asked me how I could love her after the way she treated me. That was the only time that anything was ever mentioned about the way things were growing up.
She was never the person I called when things were difficult in my life. But she was a nurse and I could talk to her about my work. She had also buried three of her children, so she could understand what the families I took care of were going through when their child was dying. And after I went through Christ Renews His Parish (CRHP) and fell in love with our Lord, we talked about our faith. When my mom was diagnosed with cancer, I was able to stay with her at the hospital as she recovered from surgery. We never had any deep conversations but we each knew that the other one loved us and that this time was a gift from God. I was able to take care of my mom and give back to her some of the love she gave in raising 9 children. I was able to help her shower and get dressed, help her walk the halls and be there by her side when the doctor told her that the cancer had spread to her lymph nodes and that she would have to receive chemotherapy. During the next 2-½ years, I went home as often as I could to be there for her treatments and doctor visits. I got to hear her tell me that she loved me and that she thought I was a great mom. She told me that she was proud of me.
Since her death on September 16, 2009, there have been many times that I have wanted to pick up the phone and tell her about what is going on in my life. If I could do it over again, I would put my fear behind me and reach out to her more often. I would turn the other cheek when she was hateful to me and tell her that I loved her. I think that is why this sorrow has been pressing in on me; I wanted to share with her the joyous day we had on Saturday.
“Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.” (Matthew 5:4)
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