Mom died last year on December 4th. Here she is in the famous photo, wearing her red glass heart made by Leslie McIver in New Zealand. Some of you know this, but I bought the heart for Mom's birthday on December 8th. Luckily I gave it to her a few weeks ahead of the birthday, so she got to wear it for awhile. I never imagined I'd miss Mom so much. Our last year together, when I lived with Mom, was one of coming to know each other in a completely different way.
Here is Mom and my son.
Mom and me. One thing I learned was that Mom always loved me, always wanted to help me. The younger me viewed "help" as an indicator that I wasn't doing things right. Or as interference. I never wanted help, unless I asked for it, and I rejected it any number of times from both my parents. I see now that it was my attitude that created a barrier and that if I had changed my attitude, our relationship through the years would have been so much smoother.
Still, my attitude did change in this last year we lived together. I could see Mom for the truly sweet, near Buddha-like soul she became. I (selfishly) miss her continual interest in the minor doings of my life. She lived her last year with courage and bravery and dignity. Love ya, Mom. Thank you.