August 8th marked 5 years that my mom has been gone.
5 years. Half a decade.
Sometimes it feels like she has been gone for so long and some days it feels like it was just yesterday. Each day brings its own new set of challenges to be honest. Especially now when everything seems so out of control. She was always able to bring me back down. The best listener I've ever known. So although I am not crying every time I think of her these days, it still is incredibly hard because I need her. There is no one like a good mother; no one.
I tried to make sure that I had a few things to look forward to on the day that way it would hurt less if that makes any sense. Earlier this year, my sisters and I were happy to see that my mom's birthday and August 8th fell on a Saturday because it meant that we could all be together on both days. Well, COVID-19 (2020 to be honest) had other plans and with the precautions my family and I are taking that wasn't going to happen.
So, Sean and I decided to drive to see my mom, drop off some beautiful flowers, let her know how much she is missed and loved and then prepare a nice dinner for Sean and myself. Kinda off topic but it was actually the first time that I did not cry to and from her grave. My mom loved to cook, her favorite place was in the kitchen (she would kick us out when we were younger because it was her me time) and I thought preparing a nice dinner would be one way to feel close to her on that day.
I shared this post on Instagram and felt the need to share it here too.
My mom's favorite place use to be in the kitchen and it makes me cringe how often I would tease her for that. "Dad can cook his own food", I'd say. That was my attempt to convince my mom that she did not actually enjoy being in the kitchen and was just conforming to traditional gender norms. Little did I know that as I'd get older it would become my favorite place too. Being in the kitchen, deciding what new recipe to try, chopping vegetables or hearing that sizzle ... it all has become therapeutic to me. Today marks five years that she's been gone but I love that cooking is another way I feel closer to her; a way to keep our connection alive.
If only I could tell her I understand it now; if only.
"You may not understand it now, but one day you will." My mother used to say this to me a lot. And in moments where that's true, sometimes I cry but for the most part I smile. Like you, there are some things that I happen to realize I'm doing or saying that my mom did and/or said. And when my kids ask me about it or comment on it, I tell them the same thing my mother told me. And maybe one day they'll cry about it, but I hope they smile more than they cry.
ReplyDeleteLooks very yummy...
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