Mother’s Day Without Mother … What Now?

I tell Kristin, “You’ll find your own way.”

For me, there are still moments when I miss her live presence and sadness sneaks up—like if I hear Frank Sinatra singing “Night and Day” or smell Coty powder. But I’ve settled into a new relationship with her, and the obligatory pressures of cards, brunches, and phone calls on that second Sunday in May have all faded away.

I’ve gotten to feel attuned to her presence in my life every day, in a simple, subtle way. When I’m overwhelmed with work, and remember her with four kids, holding down a full time teaching job, and making dinner every night for the whole family, she awes me. When I get impatient with my life and hear the voice that calls my dreams “far-fetched,” she hurts me.

Ultimately, I’ve come to learn that death hasn’t separated us. Every day, I’m in moments celebrating her, arguing with her, honoring her, grateful for her. I don’t need Hallmark to tell me to “Remember!

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