really?
Caveat: Mother's day is Sunday.
Today, on my way through the gates into the Sullivan Square T station, I passed a homeless man I've seen twice now sitting in his elevated wheelchair right at the entrance. The last time I saw him, he was passed out completely and just sitting there holding a DD cup. I was surprised, tonight, when he turned his head and said, "Have a good night, beautiful. God bless." I responded, "you, too" to his surprisingly alert face, and continued to walk. "Have a great Mother's Day" was called, to my back, as I walked away. I slowed, but kept on to my train.
This, along with a barrage of emails from florists reminding me to "Touch Mom's Heart" this weekend with a "chic bouquet" have just snowballed me. One, two, three, four...and people have been talking about Moms a lot lately, too. I guess last year it was so fresh that the pain was sharper, so Mother's day was just adding insult to injury. Now, as life marches on and I climb back up onto my feet, the reminder of this coming Sunday actually jolts me. I suppose I forgot there was a day set aside to celebrate what I've lost. In the same way I couldn't believe the world kept turning on the 15th of January last year, I sit here with a look of blank shock on my face when I give myself the time. Oh, yeah. Other people have moms, and they kick nearly as much ass (if they're lucky) as Mum did. Hannah's mom, Sunny's, Tim's...I am jealous, without a drop of malice. I really just miss her, in the purest form possible. I'm not grief ridden, I'm not angry; this time around, it's just a daughterly pining.
as a sort of post script:
For those of you not constantly plugged in to my life, I realize that my posts have been mostly sad or angsty. My life is actually going quite swimmingly...I just haven't found the right words to pass on that message. So, consider yourself updated.
Today, on my way through the gates into the Sullivan Square T station, I passed a homeless man I've seen twice now sitting in his elevated wheelchair right at the entrance. The last time I saw him, he was passed out completely and just sitting there holding a DD cup. I was surprised, tonight, when he turned his head and said, "Have a good night, beautiful. God bless." I responded, "you, too" to his surprisingly alert face, and continued to walk. "Have a great Mother's Day" was called, to my back, as I walked away. I slowed, but kept on to my train.
This, along with a barrage of emails from florists reminding me to "Touch Mom's Heart" this weekend with a "chic bouquet" have just snowballed me. One, two, three, four...and people have been talking about Moms a lot lately, too. I guess last year it was so fresh that the pain was sharper, so Mother's day was just adding insult to injury. Now, as life marches on and I climb back up onto my feet, the reminder of this coming Sunday actually jolts me. I suppose I forgot there was a day set aside to celebrate what I've lost. In the same way I couldn't believe the world kept turning on the 15th of January last year, I sit here with a look of blank shock on my face when I give myself the time. Oh, yeah. Other people have moms, and they kick nearly as much ass (if they're lucky) as Mum did. Hannah's mom, Sunny's, Tim's...I am jealous, without a drop of malice. I really just miss her, in the purest form possible. I'm not grief ridden, I'm not angry; this time around, it's just a daughterly pining.
as a sort of post script:
For those of you not constantly plugged in to my life, I realize that my posts have been mostly sad or angsty. My life is actually going quite swimmingly...I just haven't found the right words to pass on that message. So, consider yourself updated.