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Sunday, April 20, 2008

Mother's Day

I made a mistake today.

I walked into my local Hallmark store.

I have to admit it--I LOVE Hallmark stores. I am a major sucker for multiple lines of collectibles, sappy sentimental cards, adorable stuffed animals and sparkly keychains. Believe me, when they see me coming they rest assured that their utility bills will be paid in plenty of time. I usually go here with Nicole because I have found that testosterone reacts badly with the store, often causing a severe case of Igottagetouttahere-itis in my men.

So I went in alone today . . just for a few minutes. I found lots of sales which was cool and I bought myself a ridiculously beautiful and probably rarely ever to be used letter opener. I got a pair of boxers for the hubby which read "Dad's word is final. Ignored but final." Appropriate, I think for our house.

I bought a purse (if you know me well, that's certainly no surprise as I collect those too) and then I walked into this emotional wall that blindsided me: Mother's Day cards and gifts. I just wasn't ready for that. Usually I plan for weeks ahead what I am going to get my Mom for this holiday. I knew it meant a lot to her for me to pick something special and I enjoyed the process of thinking and choosing. I often ended up at Hallmark to make that selection. And here I was, and here was Mother's Day in the near future, and yet, there is no Mom. And it made me cry, right there in the store and I ended up telling this poor young clerk why I was upset and watching her thinking, Ah man, I only make $7.25 an hour. . . what am I supposed to say to this woman??? She choose the safe and always appropriate I'm so sorry and it helped.

I know I've written about missing my mom before . . . but this is really a struggle for me. She was my buddy. She was my #1 fan. She was my sounding board. She gave great advice. She told good jokes (dirty ones that she sometimes forgot the punchline to, which was even funnier). She was my MOM and although I turn 49 in a matter of days, I miss her like crazy. Seeing those cards and presents just about tore me up. I guess, in the end, that's kind of a tribute to her though . . . . to show she was a good mom. I hope that somehow, wherever she is, she knows that.

1 comment:

Nomadic Nicole said...

Oh, I know that must have been hard for you. There was a process that was a part of your life, i.e Mother's Day,--and now that that process has been ended, there's an emptiness left behind.

Of any day of the year, this is probably going to be the hardest. The one thing I like to think of that's comforting, is that whenever you look at the sky outside, you know that wherever they are, they're looking at the same one. It can bring a feeling of "connection."

Your daughter