A Lost Child Remembers

I'm laying on my couch on a Friday night at 11pm and it's raining outside (one of my favorite sounds in the world). My son is down in the basement with his friends and they are laughing. I know this is a moment I want to treasure and so I make a mental recording of it in my mind. The sound of the rain and the sound of my son laughing delights my heart. I just want to take it in and keep it close.

As I lay there, other thoughts come in-- uninvited, but welcomed. In my mind, I go to a place I haven't been in a long time. A place that is special but painful to visit. It's a lost life--a lost place--a lost time. It's the place where I grew up. The place where my family used to live. I don't often let myself think of it too often because it doesn't exist anymore--except in my memories.

It's almost like the ghost of Christmas Past came in and took me back to my childhood for a brief moment. I could see myself walking down the hall in my house. I can see all the pictures of my family on the wall. The den and living room are just like I left them. Nothing has changed. I slowly move from one room to the other and they are untouched. I go into my Grandparents apartment and it's immaculate. My Grandmother prided herself in her cleanliness. (Tim wishes I had inherited that from her).

I walk to my Mother's room and there she is! She seems to be the only one in the house. She is sitting at her desk like she did so often late at night. She waited until it was quiet in the house before she would go through the mail. I think she enjoyed looking through it. Most of it was junk mail but there were always pleas for the orphans and hungry throughout the world. Those always caught her eye and her heart.

My Mother was one of the most compassionate people in the world and she couldn't let one of those pleas go unnoticed. It was like they were depending on her to save them and she would do all she could to help them. She would have given her last cent to help anyone.

But whatever rescue operation she was working on at her desk was put on pause the minute I walked in. She always made time for me and for my Brother, Michael. Her eyes looked up to meet my eyes and her whole countenance sparkled. Her attention was mine for the taking. She was the best listener I have ever known.

What would I say to my Mother if I could? I can think of a million things at once. All the things that have been stored up for the past 6 years since the worst year ever--2001. I enjoyed sharing nearly every detail of my life with her. She was always interested in me and in what I was thinking. She empowered me to do many of the things I did because she always believed I could do them. It was fun to dream with her because she enjoyed my dreams as much as I did. I think I shut down that part of my life when she died. I knew no one could take her place.

It has been amazing to me that I never see anyone who really reminds me of my Mother. I see men all the time that remind me of my Father-- but never her? I think the reason is-- to me, there was no one like her in all the world. She was a gentle, kind, giving lady who made everyone feel special. And everyone who walked into her life was welcomed. She greeted all with her beautiful smile. I miss her so much. She was my best friend in this life.

When you lose your parents, even as an adult, the little child in you panics. You become like a child lost in a super WalMart who begins to search frantically for that familiar face. What are you going to do without them? They are suppose to be there. They have always been there. And you have always needed them to be there. Sometimes you don't realize that until they are gone.

And now you are left alone. But you are too young to be left alone--even if you are 73! There is never a good time to lose your parents. And no matter how many fights or disagreements you had with them when they were alive, you don't think about that when you go to their funeral.

You remember then all they did for you and how much they loved you. And you realize in your heart, that no one is ever going to love you like they did. Their love was that of a parent and as imperfect as that can be sometimes, no one can move into that spot. There are only two people who can fill it and now there is a big hole they once filled.

I guess my point is this: if you still have both of your parents or just one of them, treasure them for all you're worth. They will be gone too soon and then you will wish you had. Regrets are about the worst thing you can live with because you can't fix them. They just stay with you and nag you. So plan ahead and don't allow that to happen to you. Make every moment count-- even if you have a million other things to do. Don't rush to get away from that precious soul. One day you will wish you had one more moment to say all the things that didn't get said. So say them now.

I hadn't planned to write about this. I was writing a blog about freedom. It has been a struggle to write these past few weeks. I have been sick and didn't feel much like doing anything. But it has been no effort to write this blog. It was something I had to get out. I think that is when you must write--when something is pushing to get out of you.

And it didn't occur to me when I started writing this blog last night-- that today, October 27th, is my Mother's Birthday. She would have been 86.

If you have a comment for Carol, please write her at: carolrtexas2@aol.com