September 5th, 1982. That was the day my Mum, Phyllis, passed away.
I was 20 going on 10. I was not ready (who ever is?). It was not time. She was still so young.
30 years … seems like yesterday.
My ‘story’ is not unique. Sadly. It was one of those ‘moments’ in life that changes everything. I think of her just about every day (and would be exaggerating if I said it was every day). I have a ritual of gratitude and prayer that I begin most days with and she is there.
I could spend a long time writing many stories, many tributes, many poetic phrases but there is no need. She was here.
Mum lives on in me and my brothers and she watches proudly (I hope) as we accomplish things in our lives and with our families.
Today, no matter how much my work brings me a sense of great joy and satisfaction, I am not working. Instead, today, Mum and I are having a ‘mother-daughter’ day.
Today – all day – is about gratitude and prayer, honoring and remembering.