I haven’t written much lately. A busy life seems to always get in the way. But on this day, every year, I am compelled to write. This is the day where I cry many tears and make many wishes. This is the day that, 11 years ago, I lost my mom. I wish that she knew my kids. I wish that she had been able to see them doing the things that they love.
I wish that she saw Samantha on stage. She loved going to the theatre, but she also knew that none of us could sing and would never survive up there. She would be tickled to see her granddaughter who actually has a good voice and is so passionate about her craft.
I wish that she watched Brady on the basketball court. She would love to see him play the same game that my brother and I played as kids. And I know that he would find her in the stands and smile at her (like he does for me) after he makes a good play.
I wish that she could hear Colton listing off geographical facts that most adults don’t know. His quest for knowledge and imagination would delight her.
I wish that she could give me advice. There are days where I feel lost in this parenting job. And she is the person that I need to hear from.
I wish that she could see my brother. He is with the perfect girl and leads the life that she had always wanted for him. And because she grew up with a cat that she adored, she would have loved the fact that he adopted a cat that he worships.
I wish that people who met me after she died knew the person that I was before. I was the happiest, most optimistic person. I knew that I was one of the luckiest people alive because I had hit the jackpot in the mom department. I was funnier, more opinionated, more complete. I miss the person that I was.
I wish that my dad wasn’t alone. He will never get over losing the love of his life. And he hasn’t shown any interest in finding anyone else because, “No one can make me laugh like your mom could.”
I wish that I didn’t have to shop alone. The two of us would shop for hours and always find the greatest deals and have the best time.
I wish that she was attending a milestone birthday party for her little sister in a couple of weeks. There were three girls in her family and when my aunts are together, it always seems like something is missing. Something is missing.
I wish that she could be there for her friends. Some of them have been through hard times in the last 11 years and she would want to give them a hug or a laugh when they need one.
I wish I had my mom. After 11 years, I now know that the daily ache I feel without her will never go away. I will never be okay with that and I will never stop wishing that she was here.