I wrote this poem for Mom on Mother's Day  in  1998 and I think it says how I feel very well...

My Friend

When I was little... really small.

You were there to take care of it all.

My tummy hurt, I skinned my knee.

I always knew what a comfort you'd be.

I got into trouble but you understood.

You knew that I did the best I could.

I’d get hurt, my heart got broken.

I knew you loved me without being spoken.

I got older and up I grew.

Amd now I have a child, too.

I hope that I can teach him what you taught me.

Just be the best that you can be.

You do so much for me, I love you a lot!

I’m so glad I’ve got the Mom I’ve got!

Today is Your day and I want it said.

I’m glad you’re my mother but more importantly MY FRIEND!!!  

I love you, Mom!!!

So, this is a brief story about Sheryll based on a conversation she and I had the first time we met (about 18 years ago) and is perhaps a side of Sheryll not many people experienced.  I had only recently begun dating Jacki, and she was introducing me to her mother over pie (of course) at a Perkins or some other such restaurant (can’t remember for sure; not important).  Jacki had left us alone at the table briefly, during which time Sheryll confided in me that what she really wanted to do was get a motorcycle and just travel/wander around the country (I’m not making this up…she really said this!).  Having a little wanderlust myself, I was extremely intrigued by this and couldn’t help but smile as I looked at this middle-aged woman sitting across from me eating pie and imagined her cruising down the road in a big ol’ Harley with the wind in her hair.  Of course, as is often the case, the weights of life overrode whimsical desire and she never did hit the road.  So, as strange as it may seem, when I imagine her now, I imagine her on the back of a Harley cruising down some remote scenic road with her hair blowing in the wind, completely at peace smiling a huge grin of contentment.  It’s a weird vision of the afterlife, I know.  But, for some reason, this is what comes to my mind when I think of the hereafter for Sheryll.  And I think of this song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WYna-UAt75c.*  Long may you run, Sheryll.


*You may need to either turn off the sound on this website, or copy and paste this url into your browser.  

I can't help but believe that Mom had something to do with winter holding off to hit Duluth until now.:-)  I had been worried about how I was going to get down to see her as often as I would like once the snow set in for the season...It didn't really begin until yesterday, the day after her memorial.

Now, we're snowed in -- school is even cancelled for tomorrow, which rarely happens in Duluth -- and it makes me think of Mom.  She always loved "snow days," when everything shut down and we were all safe at home.  We would spend time together, playing board games, watching home movies, etc.

I will also think of Mom every time my feet get cold.:-)  I can still hear the way she would exclaim, "Your feet are like ICE!" as she would move to sit on my feet.  (I understand from my siblings that she used to make them sit on her feet...I guess I got the best part of that deal.:-)

There are many things I will be eternally grateful for.  First, I am so thankful to have had my son when we did (3-1/2 years ago), as it has vividly reminded me everyday of how very comforting Mom was to me (and my siblings, although I can't speak for their specific memories) as a young child: how she would sit up all night, rocking and patting my back, when I wasn't feeling well; how comforting it was to cuddle up in bed, on her lap, or on the couch beside her; the list goes on and on.  Becoming a mother also gave me real perspective about what is important in life: family, and, in particular, the connection between parent and child.  Mom was AMAZING at connection: she was an extraordinarily special mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother, and she treated her friends -- even acquaintances she met only one -- with the care of a family member. 

I also feel so fortunate to have moved home to the Midwest a little over a year ago.  I can't imagine trying to deal with this immense loss (and preparation for it, if there is such a thing) from half a country away.  But most importantly, I'm thankful to have been close to spend quality time with Mom.  That was her mantra in these last 9 months: "quality, not quantity.":-)  I have to admit: I frequently found myself compelled to curl up beside her in bed or into her lap.  I hope that I was able, in the past 9 months and especially in the last week, to be even half the comfort to her that she was to me.  I love you, Mom.  I will always feel your arms around me.