This is my mom at age 31 with her first baby, my brother Brian. It is so obvious in this picture how filled with joy & contentedness she was after finally becoming a mom after 6 years of infertility (from which God healed her, Hallelujah!).
This picture just speaks so much to me about my Mama and who she was. She was adventurous (it was her idea to climb into this little den of brushes & trees in Alaska for this picture), she was lovely, she was fiercely protective of her family, she was loyal, she loved her Jesus with passion.
Sometimes, I feel like the words “I miss her” are so weak – so unworthy of the true feelings behind them. Then again, dictionary.com’s definition most applicable to this situation is “to notice the absence or loss of”, and I suppose that IS very true. But it’s not just a casual noticing of her absence.
I notice her absence when Liam points to one of her quilts and says, “Gramma Mickey made that!”.
I noticed her absence the other night when I was up with a child having croup-related breathing issues and I was in a panic – I wanted more than anything to call my Mom and make sure I was doing the right things.
I notice her absence when I see her spunky character in my daughter Lauren – they are SO similar that sometimes I feel like I’m watching a mini version of my mom.
I notice her absence when I’m at the grocery store and wish that I could share that new dish or dessert I’m wanting to try.
I notice her absence when I wash down our dining room table, the same table that I sat at as a child. I sometimes close my eyes for a moment and try to remember what she looked like as she scurried around busily, cleaning up after meals.
I don’t think I’ll ever stop noticing her absence. There are just too many milestones and moments to come where she would have played such a big part. Too many times where I will yearn to pick up the phone and get her advice. Too many times where I will miss her spontaneity.
Sometimes, saying “I miss her” just can’t touch the true feeling.