Amazing Sean wrote about Mom yesterday. I think about her every single night before I fall asleep.
Yesterday, well, the night before, was especially tough. I lost something important.
OnFriday
morning, I'd taken off Mom's turquoise ring to make somebiscuits for
breakfast. I thought I remembered putting it back on afterwashing my
hands.
In the evening, as we were getting ready to go to John's
tobarbecue some steaks, I noticed Mom's ring was no longer on my
hand.Yes, there were rings on my left hand, but no turquoise ring on
myright. In a panic, I checked the kitchen and the bathroom. Nothing.
Iwas sick to my stomach. Pretty sure I hadn't been outside since last
Isaw it, I figured Mom's turquoise ring had to be somewhere inside
thehouse.
We got home late, but before I went to bed I checked
and recheckedseveral places in the house for Mom's ring. I went to bed
feeling likea tiny hole had ripped in my heart because I'd lost a small
connectionto Mom.
Yesterday I spent hours retracing my steps
from the day before.Since I had cleaned house and organized the office,
there was a lot ofretracing to do. I checked the garbage can. I dug
through the recyclingbin. Catching sight of a vase of flowers reminded
me I had cut someyellow roses for the dining room table. I went outside
to search aroundthe rose bush.
Dennis helped me check, then
recheck everywhere. We went throughthe laundry basket, we picked
through the garbage and the recyclingonce again. I went upstairs and
checked my dresser and nightstand, thefloor, and under the bed. No ring.
Finally, in sheer desperation I whispered to myself, 'Come on, Mom. Help me.'
For some reason, I reached into the closet for the pants I had worn the day BEFORE I lost Mom's ring.
A penny fell from my pants pocket to the floor.
You
have to remember now, that I rarely carry money. The onlychange I ever
carry is what I call 'Mom's-thinking-of-me' coins. Theseare the coins I
pick up off the street when we're on our walks. Thatstarted the day Mom
died. Dennis and I were walking home from thefuneral home, and when I
found a penny on the sidewalk he said, 'Yourmom must be thinking of
you.'
The penny lay there on the bedroom carpet. 'Mom,' I
thought,'please help me find your ring.' I was panicky and feeling
distraught.
Iimmediately walked back to the hall closet, which I
had searchedseveral times already. Looking past the vacuum cleaner (I
had evenchecked its bag), I saw a white gift bag tied with curly pink
ribbon. Asilly retirement gift; a plastic princess tiara winked from
the bag.
With half a smile, I thought back to the day when Mom,
notunkindly, just matter-of-factly, told me I couldn't grow up to be
aprincess because we weren't a royal family. I was about 4. I
rememberfeeling sad. Not as sad, however, as I was feeling about losing
thering she gave me over 30 years ago when I was 21. The turquoise
ringMom's mother had given her when she was young.
Remembering I
had taken a piece of tissue paper from the bag towrap a Mexican plate
hand painted with green birds, I held my breath.Mom's favorite color
was green. At least it was the very first time Iasked. I recalled parts
of our conversation about green versus blue asa favorite color. I loved
blue sky and the blue of her turquoise ring.And the birds; Mom always
said that it was good luck to see the firstrobin because it meant that
spring would soon be here. Mexican art: ourfamily trip to Mexico in the
late 60s. Hand painting: Mom's love of artand creating things by hand.
It
takes much longer to retell my thoughts than they actuallyhappened. All
these memories flooded my heart in less time than it tookto pull the
gift bag toward me.
Beneath the tiara were sparkly pretend princess earrings. I pushed them aside.
At
the bottom of the bag, like miniature eggs in a robin's nest, Icaught
just a glimpse of the four turquoise stones on Mom's ring.
---- ----- -----
Mom'sstill
with us. Somehow. Maybe it's just the emotional connection wehave with
memories of the things she loved, but I truly believe thateven though
her body, and her pain, are gone, her spirit willalways surround us.
Love,
Daphne
Yesterday, well, the night before, was especially tough. I lost something important.
OnFriday
morning, I'd taken off Mom's turquoise ring to make somebiscuits for
breakfast. I thought I remembered putting it back on afterwashing my
hands.
In the evening, as we were getting ready to go to John's
tobarbecue some steaks, I noticed Mom's ring was no longer on my
hand.Yes, there were rings on my left hand, but no turquoise ring on
myright. In a panic, I checked the kitchen and the bathroom. Nothing.
Iwas sick to my stomach. Pretty sure I hadn't been outside since last
Isaw it, I figured Mom's turquoise ring had to be somewhere inside
thehouse.
We got home late, but before I went to bed I checked
and recheckedseveral places in the house for Mom's ring. I went to bed
feeling likea tiny hole had ripped in my heart because I'd lost a small
connectionto Mom.
Yesterday I spent hours retracing my steps
from the day before.Since I had cleaned house and organized the office,
there was a lot ofretracing to do. I checked the garbage can. I dug
through the recyclingbin. Catching sight of a vase of flowers reminded
me I had cut someyellow roses for the dining room table. I went outside
to search aroundthe rose bush.
Dennis helped me check, then
recheck everywhere. We went throughthe laundry basket, we picked
through the garbage and the recyclingonce again. I went upstairs and
checked my dresser and nightstand, thefloor, and under the bed. No ring.
Finally, in sheer desperation I whispered to myself, 'Come on, Mom. Help me.'
For some reason, I reached into the closet for the pants I had worn the day BEFORE I lost Mom's ring.
A penny fell from my pants pocket to the floor.
You
have to remember now, that I rarely carry money. The onlychange I ever
carry is what I call 'Mom's-thinking-of-me' coins. Theseare the coins I
pick up off the street when we're on our walks. Thatstarted the day Mom
died. Dennis and I were walking home from thefuneral home, and when I
found a penny on the sidewalk he said, 'Yourmom must be thinking of
you.'
The penny lay there on the bedroom carpet. 'Mom,' I
thought,'please help me find your ring.' I was panicky and feeling
distraught.
Iimmediately walked back to the hall closet, which I
had searchedseveral times already. Looking past the vacuum cleaner (I
had evenchecked its bag), I saw a white gift bag tied with curly pink
ribbon. Asilly retirement gift; a plastic princess tiara winked from
the bag.
With half a smile, I thought back to the day when Mom,
notunkindly, just matter-of-factly, told me I couldn't grow up to be
aprincess because we weren't a royal family. I was about 4. I
rememberfeeling sad. Not as sad, however, as I was feeling about losing
thering she gave me over 30 years ago when I was 21. The turquoise
ringMom's mother had given her when she was young.
Remembering I
had taken a piece of tissue paper from the bag towrap a Mexican plate
hand painted with green birds, I held my breath.Mom's favorite color
was green. At least it was the very first time Iasked. I recalled parts
of our conversation about green versus blue asa favorite color. I loved
blue sky and the blue of her turquoise ring.And the birds; Mom always
said that it was good luck to see the firstrobin because it meant that
spring would soon be here. Mexican art: ourfamily trip to Mexico in the
late 60s. Hand painting: Mom's love of artand creating things by hand.
It
takes much longer to retell my thoughts than they actuallyhappened. All
these memories flooded my heart in less time than it tookto pull the
gift bag toward me.
Beneath the tiara were sparkly pretend princess earrings. I pushed them aside.
At
the bottom of the bag, like miniature eggs in a robin's nest, Icaught
just a glimpse of the four turquoise stones on Mom's ring.
---- ----- -----
Mom'sstill
with us. Somehow. Maybe it's just the emotional connection wehave with
memories of the things she loved, but I truly believe thateven though
her body, and her pain, are gone, her spirit willalways surround us.
Love,
Daphne
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