It's been one year since your transition, and even though some may think I should be further along in my acceptance of your loss...at times, it feels just as fresh as one year ago today.
I can't help it. I miss you, terribly.
I miss being able to call you at any time of the night and sharing our stories. I miss you asking me what the kids said or did that day. I miss you telling me about the new recipe you made, how delicious it was...and how dad said "hey, hey, heeeey, you could open a restaurant with this dish!". I miss you telling me how you are planning to decorate the house for the next bridge party and seeing the pictures of the event. I miss all your care packages with special notes of encouragement and luxury soaps. I miss your voice and how you said my name in a way that drew out my highest self. "Age". I miss your enthusiasm about: your latest project, your story about the person I'm not gonna believe you ran into today, or your high reaching "I have an idea!" moments, that you'd somehow, someway...always see through.
I want to tell you all about Alivia's 3rd birthday tea party and how we used your china and Aunt Jackie's collectable tea pots in shapes ranging from a Victorian house, to an angel and even a chocolate chip cookie! I want to tell you how Alivia said that she felt "proud" while setting the table with Aunt Jennifer and how much she enjoyed her pandemic bday party even though Derrian was the only other child there. Can you believe how dad at 86 danced to "I'm A Little Tea Pot"...anything for his grandchildren!
And speaking of your grandchildren, I want to tell you how resilient they are and how much of a blessing they have been to us during this process of healing. I want to make sure you know how Alivia wanted to hear and sing the song "Brand New Day" from the Wiz for weeks after you passed and how much her requests made me feel like you were quietly letting us know you were at peace in your own brand new day.
I want to share with you how much Derrian loves his new scooter and skateboard. That he practices every day and surprisingly requested to go the skate park in Moraga when we were home for Alivia's birthday.
I want to have Derrian read you a story, write you a note and tell you how much he wants to taste the special drink you always made just for him. (I'm going to make that root beer float for him later today in your memory).
I want you to be Alivia's first customer at her new lemonade stand that her uncles and aunts got her for her birthday. (And use your sweet lemons of course!)
So many things I want to tell you, but instead of focusing on what I've wanted to share...I choose to accept that you were always there for these moments and always will be. I can accept this because I have honestly felt your presence in a special way through all the ups and down of this year.
So today, I will not use this time to count the losses, but instead I will choose to remember all the wins I've enjoyed simply because of the unconditional love you always shared. Today I give thanks for your 81 years of life and honor you for all you accomplished in your relationships with family and friends, in your career and in your spiritual walk.
I love you mom...and just as it was inscribed in the bracelet you gave me, I truly believe that.. "Mothers and daughters never truly part, maybe in distance, but never in the heart".
Until we meet again,
Age
