Sometimes that isn't good enough for emotional Lisa. Sometimes a girl just needs her Mom. I have more things to tell her. I want to show her all that has happened last year. I want her to give me guidance on the curve balls that life sometimes throws at you. I want her Pollyanna side to tell me things will be fine. I want her to call me and talk about the mundane things in life. I want to hear her witty and sarcastic comments about this crazy political world we live in (yep, I had to get political - Mom would have expected that).
I remember when my Grandmother passed away. Mom was the same age I am now. I remember wanting to take away Mom's pain and do things for her that her Mom would have done. I remember how she appreciated all of my loving attempts, but I now know that these endearing attempts can't replace your Mom.
Only your mom can look at you and know how you are feeling.
Only your Mom can tell you what you were like as a child and share memories you were too young to remember.
Only your Mom can hold you and assure you that everything will be OK even when it isn't.
Only your Mom gets excited every time she hears your voice or sees you in person. She wants to hear everything little thing that is going on in your world.
Only your Mom can give you that silly, yet wise advice, that you ignore but one day realize she was correct. Mom never liked my trendy 70s outfits that I wore in high school. Who was she to question the high fashion look of bell-bottom high-waisted jeans paired with a tight fitting sparkly shirt and blue eye shadow? Looking back she may have been right, but I still think it was a fabulous outfit to wear to my first Frank Zappa concert when I was 15 years old. Those were the days - going into the city with your friends to see a concert. There weren't any parent waiting rooms, and if there were, I am sure I would have lied to Mom and said that Jan's Mom was going and she would wait for us.
Only your Mom would buy you a beautiful wool coat with fur trim, a matching hat and a muff. Of course you only wore this a few times a year on "special occasions." Mom loved to dress us up.
Only your Mom would make sure you had a beautiful strand of pearls when you graduated from high school. I wore them a lot in college with my preppy wool crew neck sweater with my initials embroidered on the front. Did I follow this classic fashion trend when I started work. NO. It was the 80s and I seemed to think that frilly blouses that tied at the neck looked amazing with my big shoulder pad suits. The stupid bow around your neck was your "jewelry." Throw in my permed hair and ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce to you a budding young executive. I can't blame Mom for the permed hair. Ewww as I type this I can smell the perm solution now.
Mom was the one person in the entire world that could handle the many complex sides of Lisa. Shocking I know. In this internet world, I can make myself sound so stable, happy, and balanced. Well, right now Lisa isn't feeling so strong. She is a wee bit emotional. This crap-iversary stuff sucks.
Mom knew my strengths and insecurities. She knew my shy side (I really do have a super duper shy side - once again - shocking) She knew how hard I worked to be independent and self-sufficient. But really, when I think about that last statement, I may be an independent contractor in this crazy government consulting world, but I am dependent on my family and friends. They balance me. They accept me for who I am. They love me.
I wrote this blog to acknowledge this crap-iversary. I really don't want to remember the day my Mom died.
I want to remember the lifetime of memories that Mom and I shared. I want to remember the Mom that was always there for me, the Mom that loved me unconditionally. The Mom that helped raise my beautiful daughter. The Mom that every single day, demonstrated the importance of family, the importance of laughter, and the importance of love.
I love you Mom and miss you sooooo much. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about you and how lucky I was that you were my Mom.
I will end this blog with a funny entry that Mom wrote in my childhood memory book. Only a Mom can be honest - and I love her for that.
Lisa - Age 3 - Lisa is quite a tease. She has quite the temper - but can be charming and very amusing.
xo
Lisa
