Hello everyone. Hi Mom.

This is a bit of a self-indulgent blog today, but I’m okay with that.

It’s my mom’s birthday today (the day I’m writing the blog, not the day you’re reading it!)  My mom died 5 1/2 years ago, quite suddenly. There’s a whole amazing story about how and where she died, which I’ve covered before and will probably revisit again, because it’s that good.

I miss my mom. She was one of my bestest friends. In the first couple of years after she moved on, her birthday used to be  hard for me. It comes really close to Mother’s day, so it’s kind of a double whammy.

This morning, I got a text from my niece, reminding me that it’s Nonni’s birthday (her name for my mom, of course!). I said, somewhat flippantly, that I had wished my mom happy birthday, but hadn’t given her a present. She asked me if I usually did, and I said, “well, yes, up until about 5 years ago.” She said I could still give my mom a present.

And I thought about that. I could give her some flowers, I could burn some incense or sage, I could talk to her…but none of that felt quite right. Then I decided that what I wanted to do was to write this blog and tell you all a little bit about my mom’s greatest gifts to me. That feels right.

So here goes…

My mom loved me and supported me and thought I was the greatest ever. Well, equally as great as my brothers and sisters. When I sang, she thought I had the best voice. She always told me I was smart, and beautiful and successful and full of potential. And she got mad at me when I was an ass. It’s pretty amazing to be loved like that.

She told me I was too busy, and that I needed to slow down and take more time. She was absolutely right. I don’t need to do everything, and I certainly don’t need to do it right now.

When I went to her for advice, she never offered to fix things for me. I always thought it was because she didn’t know how or didn’t want to – but really, she knew that I needed to be able to do things for myself.

Every single weekend, she was disappointed because she didn’t get everything done that she had hoped to do. I wondered why at her age, she couldn’t just relax. I now understand that she knew how fulfilling it is to be productive, and to have things to look forward to and to be accountable to herself.

My mom was a connector. She wove spiderwebs between people to connect them. At her service, I was astounded by the number of people that came up to me to tell me stories of how she had connected them to someone who was now important to them. I just thought she was nosy. Boy, was I wrong.

When people in my family told me that I was beautiful, I thought that they were nuts. I look just like my mom. And now, when I really look in the mirror, I do see my mom. And I am so grateful to be able to see her beautiful face looking back at me through the mirror. And I don’t miss my mom nearly as much as I used to, because she’s there with me every single day.

I love you, mom.  I’ll see you later, when I brush my teeth.

And remember, in all things – progress, not perfection!

Love and light,

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