Mommy and He05/1/2014
I sat with my mamma for about half an hour today.
It was a perfect evening. Clear skies, beautifully blue. Mild temperatures and no humidity.
The trees bursting with blossoms erased the natural gloom of cemeteries.
She died 24 years ago today.1
Twelve and a half-million (plus) minutes without her.
I didn’t really say a lot to her.
But, she’d probably not expect anything else.
I know that my painful shyness as a kid would often exasperate her. Only because she wanted me to enjoy the company of other kids more. To have the kind of popularity my brother basked in.
But, I preferred being around just her.
And after she was gone, I preferred just being alone.
I still do. Mostly.
The Attorney is the main exception.
I’m definitely an introvert still, not gregarious by any stretch. But, because he is, being with him has brought about a comfort around others2 that I’d not had before.
It’s commonly said that a parent should never have to face out-living a child.
I think it’s just as rough for the child who loses a parent before adulthood.
Not only do you miss them, you miss the chance to show them who you are.
I would like for her to have had the chance to know me now.
I would like for her to have seen what The Attorney’s presence in my life has done for me.
I guess on some level she does see.
I only wish it could have been face-to-face.
For them to experience each other.
I had a dream several years ago where that happened.
Maybe it will once we’re all gone from here.