Tomorrow...March 5...is my mom’s birthday. Almost hard to believe…she would be 101 years
old.
If only…I had a chance
to see her once more…and give her the hug that I never gave her as a
teenager…and give her a kiss that a mother deserves from her son.
Mom
was only 59 years old when she died. I
was 18…a young…immature…18.
Now…I’m…59 years old…older in years…older
in maturity (some might debate this subject!!)…more appreciative of my family…a
better listener of my elders (whom I love to have tell me stories of ‘back when’)…and
now more aware that…I…am becoming…one of the elders in the family.
If only…I could listen
to mom…and hear her story…one that I never listened to as her young son. I
would love the opportunity to hear it now…as an older son. I didn’t know I
needed to listen then…I was just a teen…all wrapped up in my own sad story
(well, I thought it was sad then). Why would I want to ask my mom how she was? What could she tell me about
her life as a teenager? What had she learned as she grew older? Why would I
want to ask such a thing?
If only…
I
had a chance to do that with my dad…to listen. I was in my 30s when he died…at
least a little wiser than I was as a teen. I was able to show dad a little more
respect and appreciation. I was able to tell dad I loved him…and know that he
loved me.
I
was able to do that with my older sister too…to listen…and share. I was 40 when
I lost her…a little more wiser still. She knew that I loved her…and I knew how
much she loved me.
I
was able to do that with my brother who died last year too…to listen…and laugh...and love. I am approaching 60…even wiser still than before. We both knew of the
love for each other…and said so…to one another.
If only…I could have done
that with mom.
But
mom is okay with it…it’s me that’s
not.
It’s
me…that thinks back on that bratty teenager…the one who just wasn’t aware of
what’s important in life…the one who had to grow older to find that
appreciation. But that’s life isn’t it? That’s the kind of things we find out
as we grow older…finding the things that are…really… important…the simple
things…like a hug…a kiss…and a kind word.
I
didn’t know that then.
I
know that now.
But if
only…
Dan
She was a precious lady, like the rest of us she had struggles which she did not always win. My most accurate memories of her were when she moved to GA to help my lovely aunt Jeanie with her wonderful daughters.
ReplyDeleteIsn't it true that we grow in appreciation for our family, especially those who are our elders.