My mom died when I was 19 in a brutal fight with breast cancer. Sometimes it’s been so long since she’s been gone, it’s hard to remember what she was like. It seems memories are difficult to depend on as they fade into the years.
What I do remember is she did birthdays and celebrations well. This morning I started to recount exact memories, but I got lost blending pictures in my mind and mis-matching days. It seems I remember her mostly in generalities and fond sentiments.
It makes me wonder if this is how we are all remembered, with general sentiments rather than concrete and specific memories. Sure, I remember there were difficult times, mistakes, and plenty of long, boring days, but overall I look back with fondness remembering hugs and blips of humorous and kind moments melded together.
Recalling my mother this way makes me think of my own life as a mother. It fills me with less pressure to recall her this way, it relieves this expectation to nail each moment with my children and to instead focus on the overall picture.
I want my kids to remember I loved them and took time to be involved in their lives.
I remember my mom letting me have my friends over to have a few sleepovers on our trampoline senior year of high school, mind you co-ed, which was a far cry from our conservative background filled with no booze, rock & roll or swearing in the home. But she made us waffles for breakfast and my friends thought it was cool. I don’t even have a concrete picture of it in my mind’s eye, but I remember the sentiment of her kind hospitality and involvement in my life.
This Mother’s Day, I am left with less expectation to make each day and memory magical. Rather, my focus feels connected with my kids seeing my heart in the overall picture, hopefully leaving them with sentiments of love and investment in their life.
Mental Health & Journaling 