Her. I say that like she doesn't have a name or I've forgotten what it was. Like we were only brief acquaintances and not blood. I say that like we didn't see each other day in and day out for 15 years. Or maybe I say that to keep her memories at an arms length to protect myself from the sharp pain of missing her.
As if she wouldn't have been proud enough of me for being a mom -- a great mom -- I know she'd be proud of me for diving head first into my photography business. And no matter how excited I am to start this book of my life, it's somewhat bittersweet to do it without seeing her excited reaction smeared across her face. This venture gets added to the long list of monumental milestones in my life that she's missed, like another notch in Life's belt who happens to be on Weight Watchers.....and Adkins. The older I get, the more things get added to the bottom of that list -- always at an increasing rate.
It amazes me how the sense of smell can instantly take you to an otherwise forgotten memory. Like the smell of Doublemint gum taking me to Sunday morning church service, sitting next to my Grandma who let me have a half a stick to chew instead of singing hymns. Or the smell of a sawdust-y garage taking me back to my grandparents house on Strowbridge Drive in Sandusky where I'd skid the wheels of my Big Wheel down the straight runway-esque sidewalk. Or how the smell of a growing corn field whispering on the summer breeze takes me back to long summer days on a farm where my Aunt Leah encouraged our imaginations to melt as fast as our Jell-O pudding pops on the back porch. Or how I can pass a strange woman in the mall wearing White Shoulders perfume and I'm rushed back to the last Mother's Day with my mom as if it were just last month.
I can hear her laughter in my mind when Harley or Bryce says something funny. I can hear her encouraging words when the doubt creeps in as if she's sitting across the table from me, with her piping hot coffee in front of her, and a lit Winston Light 100 in hand. She'd tell me that I'll be fine and she has faith everything will fall into place. Then she'd tell me how proud she is of me for being daring enough to follow my dream.
I take comfort in her as my angel. I believe all of the signs I have seen, all of the subtle hints that have been strategically placed, were all done by her hand.
I have an amazing number of supportive people who are encouraging me in this. Some I get to see every single day (or close to it)....others I "see" with my heart.
3 comments:
I have no doubt that your mom is proud of you for becoming a great mom yourself, and for following your dream.
And, I am more then sure she is beaming with pride that as you take your journey through life that you have allowed the memories of her and the lessons she has given you to go along with you.
Just this afternoon I was driving down Pearl St and got an overwhelming sense of your Mom. It was odd at first, but then it faded to comfortable. I'll never forget the fun she created and the laughter that ensued. She was an angel here, so there is no doubt that her wings are all the better in heaven.
every word you wrote struck my heart like a ton of bricks. you know she is proud...of EVERYTHING you do.
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