In a FUNK.

I have been in a funk this week and I couldn’t figure out why. I have been thinking of my Momma more and more over the past couple of weeks. With the end of the school year for the Indians, there are plenty of choir shows, plays and awards shows. When we would talk she would love to hear about all their accomplishments and always ask for photos. With our move we’ve been putting countless hours into getting walls painted, and I’ve been putting in a paper bag floor. I couldn’t help but wonder what she would say about all of that, well, If anyone knew my mom, you can hear her, “Ohhhs and Ahhhs”. My mom was always known for her overwhelming enthusiasm. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of something that would prompt me to call her to share some randomness with her, to hear her encouragement and excitement at our daily adventures. Put that together with Mother’s Day and I’ve been a bit of a mess. I found myself seething with anger the more I went out. I would be at Walmart and they would have tables full of trinkets and signs that Mother’s Day was fast approaching. Even my email was full of offers to get mom the latest in electronics, an offer for a free cup of coffee for mom when you buy yours, and even an offer to get mom anti wrinkle treatment! Because isn’t that what every mom wants? (Heavy sarcasm!) I think my emotional roller coaster derailed when I stopped at Michaels for a few odds and ends. At the register was a sign that said, “Your mom called and she wants a Michaels gift card for Mother’s Day!” I had to hold myself back from punching the clerk and telling her, “Up yours and your moms!” I found myself crying in the car for a short while and wondering what my problem was. Did I hate Mother’s Day that much now? I felt like it was everywhere, in my face, mocking me for no longer having my mom to celebrate. But isn’t all the advertising making a mockery of mom’s everywhere? I have ODC tendencies, (I got it from my Momma) but that doesn’t mean that I want my family to get me a dyson. I don’t want random ceramic trinkets that will clutter shelves in my house. I want to spend a day with my children, and I would give anything to spend a day with my mom. Oddly enough, my mom was crafty and I do believe that much of her income went into a Michael’s register. But if she could call me, I doubt it would be to tell me that all she wanted for Mother’s Day was a gift card. Today, I feel an overwhelming sense of guilt. My mom loved nothing more than to spend time with her babies. And I took that joy from her. I chose to move my family over 2,000 miles away. We didn’t spoil her with visits and our time. I didn’t do enough to celebrate her and her place as my mother. More often than not I was selfish with my time, and did not tell her enough how much I appreciate the sacrifice it took to raise me. Perhaps I felt that there would always be time, time to tell her, time to show her, time to celebrate her. Now that she is gone, I can’t help but think of all the things I could have done, should have done. Here I am, still in bed. Waring with myself to get up and get on with today. My little mini me brought me handmade artwork that I will cherish. I know I need to celebrate in the joy that I am now the Mom. I am the one who is devoted to her children, and I get to relish in time with my babies. I know those days are numbered as well. They are young now, but that is moving at the speed of light. All too soon they will be moving on and raising their own families. I will be the one asking for their time, their visits. Because I would rather have their time, then anti wrinkle treatments. If you have the blessings of being able to spend time with your mom, do it. Not for me, but for you. I am sure your mom wants nothing more for Mother’s Day than to enjoy you. Happy Mother’s Day. I hope to find a way to use today to celebrate my Momma and all that she was, is, and will be to me as I journey on through my days. May I do all that I can to honor her, and make her proud of the Mother I strive to be. One who loves unconditionally, carries a wooden spoon, and is not afraid to be herself. I love you, Momma.