Missing My Mom: A Quiet Ache

Last night, we had the privilege to go to a wedding here locally. It was a beautiful Catholic ceremony that was very reminiscent of our own wedding over 30 years ago. Throughout the service, John and I would gently nudge each other, or I would grab for his hand. One of the singers at the ceremony performed Ave Maria. John heard it first and then said, "Oh Claudine." That was my Mom's favorite song. My eyes then gave in to the tears and they fell down my cheek. Big crocodile tears. At one point, I thought I would have to leave the building to just let it go, but I held my head high and took a deep breath and savored each lyric of the song...it was sung beautifully. I was glad to be there to hear it. Some losses don’t scream. They whisper. I miss my mom in ways that are hard to explain. Grief doesn’t come in a tidal wave. It drips in slowly, filling up moments I didn’t expect to be so empty. My Mom passed away 16 years ago in Ohio. She was in a nursing home ...