she was young

One of the last memories I have is of her sitting in a chair, and me sitting on the floor in front of her... something festive was on the television... maybe it was the Boston Pops and their fourth of July presentation. My head was in her lap. Her fingers were running through my hair.

We knew then, that there was not a lot of time left.

I can hear her voice.

Sometimes I hear her voice in my own.

Certain songs bring me back, more than 22 years, instantly.

I didn't understand then, the fear that she must have felt when she was diagnosed. The fear she lived with those two years. I wish I could have been more than I was. I know I helped, I do. I just regret that I couldn't have supported her differently. More...deeply. But, knowing her, she knew that I couldn't. That I was doing all I knew to do.

I see everything so differently now.

People often said "she was so young" ... I didn't think so.

I do now.

I also didn't understand what a good Mom she was. I mean ... I knew I had a good Mom. We had a great relationship. But now. Now I see that she was ... a really, really ... good Mom.

And she was young.

Sadness kind of sneaks up on us sometimes doesn't it?

Surprising us with sudden tears.

She was a good Mom. And she was too young.

XO
K.