My mother passed away five years ago today. Each year on this date, I find myself grappling with the bewildering nature of time. I’ve written about it before, focusing largely on my kids, because nothing propels a mother’s awareness quite like grief and loss. It stops us in our tracks: one moment, I’m watching my little boys morph into young men with surprising speed, and the next, my teenage daughter is blossoming into an intriguing young woman (complete with — gasp! — boyfriends). The calendar fills up faster with each passing year, and if I had a dollar for every friend who asks, “Where did the time go?” I’d be rich.
This year, however, feels different. I’m still astonished by how quickly time flies (and yes, I’m still wrapped up in disbelief that I can legally enjoy a drink with half of my kids). But I’ve noticed a shift in my perspective. Instead of being consumed by the relentless march of time, I find myself more accepting of both its passage and its presence. I appreciate the anticipation of what lies ahead, which fills me with excitement, even on those tougher days.
From graduations to college acceptances, engagements, and a stubborn son finally getting a haircut, life is bursting with joy. It’s almost unfair not to be happy. I know my mom would be fuming if she sensed even a hint of sadness regarding her grandkids’ lives. So while I miss her terribly, I can’t wallow in sorrow for long. That’s just not her style.
A big part of this mental shift comes from turning 50 this year. Fifty. Seriously, how did that happen? I still have a T-shirt from high school that reads “We work less and party more, ’cause we’re the class of ’84.” Reflecting on this milestone is significant. I remember throwing my mom a surprise 50th birthday bash, cramming friends into my tiny apartment. We had a keg party (even though she didn’t drink beer), and she was thrilled, albeit a bit annoyed that her first grandchild missed out. But ultimately, she was surrounded by love until her last days.
On these anniversaries, I think about the friends my mom left behind, and I genuinely feel for them. I know the void they experience without her. She taught me the importance of surrounding myself with friends who genuinely care, and I am fortunate to have a solid support system, whether they’re a phone call or a plane ride away.
Growing up, I adored reading Erma Bombeck. During winter break of my senior year in college, I found a column she wrote about friendship. I clipped it and sent it to my best friend, Claire, who I’ve known since fifth grade. Though we rarely lived in the same state, that piece of writing came back to me years later, and I framed it to honor our enduring friendship. How fortunate I am to have such a bond, and how incredible that my mom is a cherished memory for so many.
So today, I honor her memory. You’re in so many hearts today, Mom. Cheers and love.
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Summary
This heartfelt reflection chronicles the author’s journey of coping with her mother’s passing five years ago. As she navigates the swift passage of time, she finds joy in her children’s milestones and cherishes the friendships that have sustained her. Despite her loss, she embraces the memories of her mother and the love that continues to surround her family.