22 November 2011

Long Overdue Letter

Dear Mom;
As you know I've been suffering a severe case of writer's block. It's lasted about two years and counting. I don't know that there is a right or wrong way to do this...so I'm just going to trudge ahead.
It's been threatening to rain all day today and oddly enough when I started to write the rain started to fall. I can see the lightening streaks out of the corner of my eye and Komando is about to shake is fur off.
Komando. You'd love him. He's a tiny little chihuahua with a big attitude. He's playful, loving, and patient. His vet swears Komando doesn't realize he is a chihuahua because he doesn't have the 'shaking' trait...that is...except for during spells of thunder and lightening.
Growing up I always felt close to you and just knew you were the best mom in the world. I can remember me telling you I wanted to be a good mom just like you and you'd chuckle a bit, turn red, and say thank you.
I didn't understand a lot of things that I should have understood. I also knew more things than I should have known at a much too young age. I realized your shortcomings long ago and made peace with it. You did the best you could with the limited support you had.
So many things were left said and unsaid. But one thing I know for sure...without a doubt. You're with me now. Early in the morning before the sun wakes up...while I'm in prayer...I can feel you and Memo around me. Papaw as well. I think about the humorous things Memo must be telling Papaw. I look forward to the day I can be a part of the circle again.
I have to tell you. I'm jealous. You're home. You're free. You're without pain and in Paradise. You get to walk and talk with Jesus...and hug our Holy Father God.
I think about that.
And I think about it.
It comforts me in an odd sort of way. You know everything...things I can't even conceive of right now...and I'm jealous! One day it will be my time, and I'm counting on you to escort me to Paradise.
Mom. I love you so very much. I'll always love you and always have. Your time on earth was cut short. At least, that's how I feel. But who am I to question God's plans?
Your great-grandsons are beautiful. Your grand-daughters are beautiful. I look at my youngest daughter and see you. You see, she looks just like me, and I look just like you. It's strange how this 'circle of life' thing works. I wonder about my other kin people in heaven...do all the women look alike? That would be hilarious.
And I keep thinking about how you would react if I would get to speak to you one more time...'Riccie; I went in for heart surgery and it didn't turn out too well'...LOL! So you. It's something you'd say.
I spoke with someone who had the pleasure of working with you over the weekend. He had wonderful stories to share about you. He had the utmost respect for you...and over and over talked about what a big heart you had. But I already knew that. You'd give the shirt off your back to a stranger...and that big heart of yours got yourself in trouble many times. (Remember when you got pinched on the butt in California? Or when the Mariachi band followed you at Knott's Berry Farm? They always thought we were Hispanic...but no. It's the French in us.) You gave until it hurt...gave everything even when it would short yourself.
I wanted to tell you, mom. As if you didn't know. The chain is broken. We broke it. I say we because I couldn't have done it without your example. Your patience, your kindness, your teaching about helping others less fortunate, well...they stuck.
You were given the raw end of the deal over and over again in life. But you kept on. You remained steadfast and kept the bitterness to a minimum.
I am and always will be your loving daughter, Mom. I will say goodbye for now, but I feel good about doing so because I know I will see you again in Paradise. And we will be able to go over the humorous stuff that's happened to me since you left. 
Happy Thanksgiving, Mom. This year you are at the table of the Lord. What wondrous foods to sample! 
I miss you. I love you. I love you so very much.
Love Always,
Riccie

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