A Gift from My Mother

I miss my mother.

This morning, the feeling came through loud and clear in my journal, and to be honest, it kind of surprised me. We didn’t talk much when she was alive. Too often, I was caught up in my own stuff, unwilling to burden or be burdened.

But there are times when all you want is for your mom to tell you it’s going to be okay. Times like today.

My mother? She was beautiful, bubbly, energetic, and very sad.

If you knew her in passing—even if you thought you knew her well—you are wondering about the sadness. How could that be? It doesn’t seem to fit.

Make no mistake—for all her grace, there was a sadness that lived deep beneath her veins. It only came out at night. I saw it and it broke my heart. Because my mother mattered. She meant so much to the people who loved her, and she died not being able to see it.

I believe my mother’s in a place where she can finally see the big picture. She doesn’t have to look at things through the prism of what she was. From where she sits today, she can see the whole world exactly as it is. And she knows how much I loved her.

My mother has a lesson for us, and it’s this:

Don’t wait to know you matter. Matter now.
Don’t wait to remember you are loved. Feel loved now.
Don’t wait to do the thing you were made for. Do it now.

Thanks, mom.