I have been seeing them everywhere lately. They always used to remind me of my Grandmother and now they remind me of my Mom. I've been seeing them daily and each time I take a moment to feel her with me.
July is a hard month for me. My Mom took a huge downward spiral right after the 4th of July. Don't get me wrong, she was sick on the 4th but after a nap on my uncle's couch she was reenergized. She was spunky and even eating. The day of our trip to my house she was pretty good too. Except then she stopped eating, and falling, and all sorts of craziness happened. On July 8th, she passed away. Just her and I in the hospital room. Seconds after Dan and Abby had walked out the door.
HARDEST. DAY. OF. MY. LIFE.
My siblings drove the 3.5 hours to get there, not knowing at first that she was already gone. When I tell you that my heart was dragging on the floor behind me as I went to meet them, it's not an exaggeration. I couldn't even look at them. I couldn't even look at myself. Or Abby. Or anyone.
I didn't think I would ever function again.
BUT, I did. I started seeing little things that let me know she was there. It started the day I was in her room getting her clothes together for the funeral home. I spotted the Susan G. Komen ornament I had given her, one with a butterfly, hanging behind the tv. I wanted to put it with her. When I grabbed it, there was a necklace that my Dad had given me on my 16th birthday. I had thought I lost it during a move, in Maryland. I was devastated when I couldn't find it.
Yet, there it was. Miles and miles away from where I had last seen it. On a day that I was more heartbroken then I could ever imagine. I felt like she knew I needed it.
Maybe it was coincidence, just like the butterflies I've been seeing lately.
Maybe I am just trying to heal so hard that I'm looking into things that aren't really there. Giving divine purpose to the ordinary.
But, maybe, these things are meant to help me heal. To let me know that nothing, and no one, is ever really gone. That in so many ways, she is with me.
It's like when my Grandmother died and they found a poem cut out from a newspaper. No one knows why she saved it, but she did.
It meant so much that they had it printed and given to everyone. In a small way, it helped everyone heal just a little.
Time and time again, I am reminded that she's here. Whether it be a butterfly or a letter that she wrote me. Or a letter that she addressed to no one, that I'm sure was meant for me and siblings.
I found it in a stationary set, written on the very first page as you open the fold. I found it a few months ago and will cherish it always.
Maybe she meant to write us all a letter at one time but never finished it.
Or maybe, she is simply reminding us that she's here and a mother's love never dies.
I think I'll believe the latter.
Mom, it's been 3 years and there is not a day that goes by that I don't want to pick up the phone and call you. My voice still cracks when I tell the girls stories about you but I still tell them. I want them to feel like they know you. I want them to know that you would have showered them love. I miss you and there are days that I NEED you. I try to keep my heart open so I can SEE the little signs that show me I'm not alone. I know you're with me, watching over all of us. The last thing we said to each was "I love you" and I know that will never change for either of us.