Letters to Mom

May 24, 2014
Mom,

You got geraniums for my birthday. And now I get mums for you, during Memorial weekend. I still like mums and geraniums, but I like daisies too; they are simple. I like daffodils too. After a gray winter, it is nice to see some sunshine, especially in a flower. It is so refreshing. I like the tulips on campus, especially when the sun shines on them. The tulips open up & it is so wild beautiful. And iris remind me of you because they graced the yard. And now that you are gone, seeing an iris is bittersweet, but comforting.

Take care of Dad. I wish I could leave flowers for him, but he is so far away. I miss you both, but I'm glad that I can still feel your love for me & the rest of the family - in-laws and all.

Susan
(This edited version of what I wrote last year)

May 10, 2015

Mom,

It is Mother’s Day and I miss you. I wish I could get you a gift card to JB’s, but I saw on Facebook that a bulldozer ran over it. And chocolate would be nice. I never knew you like chocolate until the funeral. It’s no wonder I have addiction to it; I inherited it from you.

Thanks for being here for me these past few months. I know it hasn’t been easy for you because I’ve gone through a few similar experiences that you might have had. When I had the first procedure in January, I saw you in a memory. For a moment I was 12 again in the recovery room at Holy Cross Hospital.  You had that same concern on your face as you did then. Even though you looked worried, it was comforting that you there, watching over me; even though Jewel was there.

I can understand if you left during the procedure I had in February. It was hard for Laura when the hospital people tried to stick a feeding tube down your throat. Jewel was there to comfort me and Jay even managed to pay me a visit during my hospital stay.

I’m not done with trials yet; it is going to be a hard year. I’m missing my potatoes and that is hard for a Idaho native, but I get through this too. I can’t wait for 2016 to get here and 2015 isn’t even half over. I know you are watching over me. And Dad too. Love doesn’t go away just because someone dies. Love is forever; love is eternal.

I miss you and I love you.

Susan

(In case anyone is wondering, I did not have a feeding tube down my throat like my mom.)

A Bittersweet Holiday

Mother's Day has usually been a bittersweet day for me. Not so much when I was in my twenties when I attended various singles ward. I've never married or had children, but I have been a part of children's lives. I have nephews and nieces, some have been adopted by the heart. Usually going to church on Mother's Day hasn't been too bad. I haven't always taken the customary flower or treat. I once passed up some chocolate because a member of the bishopric said there were treats for all the mothers just outside the chapel doors. I think that the bishop's counselor meant well and he was probably thinking "all women" when he said "all mothers". I wasn't the only woman that day who skipped the chocolate. There were a few mothers who did likewise and not because they were allergic to chocolate or on diets.

Some Mother's Days at church have been touching. My first year in a new Ward, one young girl handed me a geranium as I walked out of Relief Society. She didn't know my status and she didn't care if I was a mom or not. She looked at me as she handed me the flower and that meant a lot to me. And last year, one of young girls I taught in Primary was determined to give me a brownie. Just because I was one of her teachers. Just moments before, I saw her determination when she gave a brownie to her next door neighbor.

After my mom passed a few years ago, celebrating Mother's Day became more bittersweet. There was just no way my mom would enjoy any kind of chocolate. Brownies included. I missed giving Mom a gift. So for the first Mother's Day, I did my usual and gave my sisters, biological and heart adopted,  a Mother's Day booklet. It was a tradition I started after I left the single wards. My first year was okay, but the next year I found myself in Primary. As usual, the children were singing a few songs in Sacrament Meeting. One of the songs that was chosen was "Mother, Tell Me A Story" by Janice Kapp Perry. When the children sang "tell me of heaven", I would cry inside. I wished my mom could tell me about heaven. And when we practiced the song this year, I could feel my mom singing the second verse, even though my mouth was singing those words. Like last year, I won't be joining the other Primary teachers on the stand this year. It's still too emotional, but the song is beautiful, so I find myself listening to it on YouTube. "Mother, Tell Me A Story" is a bittersweet comforting lullaby to me. I am reminded of the love that my mom has for me and that through all my trials that I have had since she has left, my mom has been there for me. She watches over me each night as I sleep.