Momma

Friend #1 lost her beautiful mother to breast cancer triggered by a leaky silicon breast implant. Her mom was under forty and my friend about twenty. At age eight, friend #2 watched in agony as her momma physically abused the four daughters and drank her way to an early grave. Friend #3 visits parents who are drug addled and live hidden from the government in the middle of a desert. My cousins witnessed the Alzheimer’s disease erase the personality of their mother—a sweet and gentle parent—and yesterday it took her life.

What the survivors have in common is the open ache from the loss of momma. My octogenarian mother still bemoans the loss of daily conversations with her mom who died in 1962 at the age of fifty. Of my many friends and family who have outlived their parents, all speak of the emptiness that forms when that parent is gone.  It doesn’t seem to matter of if the parent-child relationship was cantankerous, loving, hateful, harmful, abusive, playful, miserable, wonderful, joyous, divine, or non-existent. Everyone misses something about that person and the special tie that is mother.

My much-younger husband buried both his parents and yet my parents remain healthy and active—Dad on a ranch in Missouri and Mom in a Californian townhouse. I love them both.

They drive me crazy—especially Mom whom I reach out and touch on a daily basis. It is said that the reason your mom can push all your buttons is because she installed them. No one can drive you around the bend quicker than the people that created you. Friend #1 loves to have me verbally trash my mom. She says it makes her feel as if her mom was still around bugging her. It is that extremely personal pat on the heart that we miss when the loved one is gone.

I don’t know how my cousins feel today as they plan the final services for their mother. I pray they get through the pain.

We have all suffered loss of someone. As we age, we know there will be more death. We need to find time to reach out to each other and share what made our momma special in our life. Even in the most negative of circumstances, a memory of joy exists that we can hold and share and fill up a bit of the emptiness.

God bless all.