I was going to write a post riffing on moms talent for sewing, and the many (many) dresses, costumes, and outfits she sewed for me over the years. In fact, I started that post. I have pictures to scan and upload. I may finish it and post it on her deathday.
But today I feel drained of energy and weepy. I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I don’t know if it’s the time of year or the memories of what. After mom died, I had nightmares a la Fruma Sarah of Fiddler on the Roof, and around her birthday all these echoes of the past come haunting me.
I miss my mom, flaws and all. I was very lucky to have had her as a mother. I wish she could have seen the young man Kidling has grown into. I wish she could have watched me graduate. I know my mom would have been disappointed that I left the LDS church, but I also know she would have been proud of my achievements. I also believe that if mom had not died, my family of origin would not have splintered apart. I think mom was the glue that held us together and soothed our hurt feelings.
It’s around this time of year that I wish I believed in an afterlife. Because I would give anything just to see her once again, or at least believe I would see her once again.