MOM, today was especially hard--I went to the little place you liked. Remember, the place I took you for our weekly coffee. Your favorite. Down in Jack London Square, mom. The place that has the good scrambled eggs you like. The coffee, mom, you can't sit inside now because of the virus, you have to get it to go.
Anyway mom, there was this elderly woman-she looked just like you. She was sipping the coffee outside the restaurant, mom and I thought of you. Laughter soon turned into a little sorrow, mom, because not only did she have your look, but your mannerisms too. It was so surreal --I almost went over to her and tell her a story about you but I decided to stay put. It would have been a little crazy and worse, maybe a bit embarrassing. You'd have laughed mom.
Mom, 'm writing this on the blog. It's so hard now. Between the virus and the holidays, it's tough out there. I miss you. I miss our lunch and breakfast when I took you to the doctors. I miss the way you sip your coffee, mom. You had a way about yourself, mom. You made things that were so ordinary seem so spectacular, so happy, more for me than yourself. When I took you to the doctors and they marveled at your strength, I thought you'd live to well past a hundred. You wanted no part of that, I remember that. You told me but mom, I was rooting for it. You don't know how much I miss you.
I miss your love, mom. I miss our breakfasts and lunch at the Butter Cup. I miss your laugh and sarcasm. I miss your love and kinship through thick and thin. Which made the experience of seeing the woman at the coffee place so exulting and at the same time, so depressing.
Mom, did you plan this?
I think about you every day. It's been two years but it still feels like yesterday. I'm still in shock, mom. You were always there and I know, even today, mom, you'd still be there. Because you're a mom. Even though you're not here, mom, I can seer you and I feel your spirit every day. And every day and every moment, I think about you. It's so hard but I'm still gonna do it mom, you'd be the first one to tell me (again) to get on with my life. But mom, it's so hard. And so easier said than done.
Mom, I hope you're OK and I will let you know, (always) when I think of you which I do all the time. Especially today when I thought about you when I saw the lady sipping coffee.
Mom, you are always on my mind.
I am sure your Mom read that with laughter and tears in her eyes. My Dad left me 7 years ago and pass away this month too, miss his laugh, his humor and his voice. Well have a toast on your Mom with a cup of coffee. Have a safe Holiday season !!
ReplyDeleteWith tears in my eyes, fantastic post Rich.
ReplyDeleteVery nice tribute to your mom. I lost my mom way back in 1982. I miss her every day too. See you do have a soft spot buried deep within you. Now try to be nicer to the people that bother to post on your comments.
ReplyDeleteHappy Hanukkah, Rich!
Rich, you and I are lucky men. Why? Because we both had Moms who loved us and made it very clear that this was so. I have some relatives who were not loved or even liked by their parents. Such people often spend their adult lives trying to obtain and retain that security from others, or from their careers. Sometimes they manage to do so.
ReplyDeleteWe all have a unique perspective of how the world really works.
Shalom, Mr. Lieberman.
10:27, love includes tough love making sure people are prepared for like once their parents pass on. Unconditional love can go way too far at times. I saw far too many parents instead of complimenting their kids efforts as "the best" simply tell them they where "the best". Many of these folks are f'd up now thinking they are the best but are far from it.
DeleteThe world is overcrowded but without Mom empty and lonely. But she left you a loving legacy to carry on with, find peace in that brother.
ReplyDeleteRich, a very nice post. I just lost my Mom on 10/20/2020 and this Holiday season is not the same as I'm struggling to get through it for the first time in 61 years without my Mom. I wish you peace and comfort. Take care
ReplyDeleteRich your mom would expect you to be strong in these circumsatnces. Hanh in there buddy!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful tribute. I lost mine long ago and still miss her dearly. They will always hold a special part in our hearts.
ReplyDeleteGreat tribute, I know the feeling. When visiting my mom, who was in assisted living, she wanted to have lunch at either McDonalds or the local Senior Center that served lunch. Those were places her friends from before assisted living hung out. She wasn't into fancy places with complicated menus and dim lighting. Lots of time we would just sit quietly together. Good times. Simple times.
ReplyDeleteLovely.
ReplyDelete:( well said. thank you for sharing. We have to treasure the ones we have
ReplyDelete