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 and suffered from Dementia. It is a terrible disease. Her stay in the nursing home was not long. She had several strokes there, while dealing with dementia. It wasn't long after she got there that she lost her ability to speak, then a few months after that, she lost her ability to eat and drink. A week and half later, I received a call from the nursing home stating that it wasn't going to be long now. I raced to the nursing home (it was about a 30-minute drive from where I was staying at the time), crying. I remember a song called Untitled Hymn by Chris Rice played on the radio. "And with your final heartbeat, kiss the world goodbye. Then go in peace and laugh on Glory's side. And fly to Jesus, fly to Jesus, fly to Jesus and live."

I was praying for my Mom. I was praying that she would still be alive when I got there. When I got arrived, she had just passed. I crawled in bed with her, held her and kissed her goodbye. It was a very sad day. I wasn't sure what I was feeling or how to deal with it. So many thoughts...

When we were in Italy, I felt my Mom's presence a lot, especially in Southern Italy where she was from. Lately, I’ve started talking to her. Not aloud, but in the small places in my mind where I feel her most. I would silently thank her throughout our trip. 

Recently, I have been telling her what’s new in my life and in the life of my family. I'd ask her what she’d do. I'd imagine her answer, and oddly, it brings comfort. Although, if she were here, there would probably be some yelling involved, along with some expressive hand gestures, but hey, she was Italian and Italians just spoke loudly - normally. 😉

Sometimes, I have this romantic idea about what our relationship would be like if she were here right now. My Mom and I had a rough relationship at times. We were not always close. Come to think of it, I am not sure we were ever THAT close, but I'd like to think we were. There were sweet moments that I will cherish. Quite honestly, I feel closer to her now, well, than I ever have. 

For anyone out there missing someone, I see you. I know this kind of heartache—a quiet ache that doesn't ask for attention, but never quite lets you go.

Mom, I miss you. I love you. Always. 

Sincerely,

Me


My Mom and I - long, long ago.

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