Time Never Stops

Sometimes, I’m utterly shocked at how quickly each year passes, and I don’t know how the total has reached an astounding 23 years now – that’s almost half my life.  Crazy.  We can’t stop time, can’t even slow it down for a second, but what we can do is slow ourselves down, and take the time to appreciate those we love and cherish.  And I mean really appreciate and cherish them.  It’s too important not to.

My mom was a big believer in the little things that made someone feel special – making cinnamon toast for us when we were sick, making the teddy bear birthday cakes, lovingly sewing our handmade pencil cases, and stitching up Teddy for the millionth time.  I could go on and on…

We never had a lot of money growing up, and with a husband, 5 kids, and a dog, and running her own dressing making/sewing business out of her home, she never had a lot of extra time kicking around – except I never noticed.  She was always there when we needed her, when I wanted to crawl into her lap to read a book and cuddle, or just pester her with a thousand different questions on a thousand different topics. She always made the time.  She always answered my questions.

As an adult looking back, I have no idea how she did it all.  I think she was magic.  I know she was special.  A gift lent to us for just a short period of time, and she gave it all she had while she was here, jamming all the love she could, like she knew she wasn’t going to be around all that long.  I miss her constantly, so much, that I truly feel an aching in my heart, like a piece of me just isn’t there, but I also take heart in all the lessons she taught me, and all the love she gave. I am fortunate.  I am blessed.  I am truly grateful.

I hate that she was in such pain, and had to suffer so much, for so many years.  It haunts me.  And, it sickens me that there wasn’t a thing I could do about it, except sit and watch her slowly slip away.  In those final moments, we slowed things right now, and just appreciated each other.  Loved each other as hard as we could.

I used to climb in bed with her a lot, and sometimes I’d read her a book, or sometimes, we’d just cuddle and talk.  I remember telling her stories, lots of different stories, just like I did when I was little…except this time I was trying anything I could to coax just one more laugh from her tired soul.  Just one more laugh.  Just one more smile.  Just one last little bit of magic…

Miss you and love you always Mom.