An Anniversary of Sorts

I'm not ashamed to admit it. I'm 31 years old and I want my mom. I think the older we get, the more likely we are to admit that out loud. One of the differences is, and most of you know this, that my mother passed away. In fact, it was 10 years ago today that she died.

The weird thing was that this week, I was bopping through my life thinking "Wow! It hurts so much less now. I miss her, but this is going to be an easy one." And then BAM! Not so much. Ten years is a long time. In fact, it's a third of my life. It's weird to think that 10 years is about half of the time that mom and I had together. Even weirder to think of being only 42 and I will have lived as long with her as without.

And clearly it's hard not to think of the things that she didn't get to see. Her grandchildren, Chef, me actually losing the weight she had so begged me to shed. I also think of the things that would be different if she were still around. I probably wouldn't have moved to Nashville. I might not have met Chef. There wouldn't be cats in my house, as she was very allergic.

It's easy to be sad about it. Mostly I miss her and the things she brought to my life. You don't realize how much someone motivates you by their presence until its not there. Or how much you appreciate getting a package or card in the mail until they start coming less frequently. It makes me realize the things that were really important. And on most days I try to remember those things and not the others that seem to take up so much of my time.

But despite everything--and I know I'm not alone in this--, I have no shame in saying that I want my mom.