I’ve been thinking about my mom a lot lately. Her heart was certainly bigger than her chest and she would continually think of little things to do for people just to see them smile. She would spend weeks leading up to Christmas baking until she could bake no more. Her house forever had the essence of cookies and squares and the Christmas tins were piled high on her dining room table.
Her favorite day was not Christmas day but the day that she would drive, or later be driven, to all of the places where she would deliver her wares. The local Hardware store, the post office and the local veterinarians would excitedly open the tins to see their favorite type of cookie and their reaction was the only present she truly wanted.
My mom was the type of person who would learn those little things about you and she would make sure your favorite cookies made their way to you during the holidays.
I was reminded of this wonderful quality when I was rearranging some things in my kitchen. There in the midst of my jar of utensils was a lone yellow rose. I had long forgotten the bouquet of flowers my mother had given me for no reason. Attached to the fragrant arrangement was a simple card that read, “I will love you until the last flower dies”. I thought it was an odd message until I saw the flower in the middle of the bunch. It was a lovely yellow rose, but it was artificial. It would never die.
That was my mom. And those little nuances that made her who she was are the things I miss the most. Some days I’m fine, a phrase we are really no longer allowed to use in my family, and some days, like today, the emotion sneaks up on me and I cannot control the flow of tears.
But it is not just the rose that reminds me that she will always be with me. My mom is somehow still able to pull strings and make wonderful things happen in our lives that we never expected. And it is these things, the things that only my mom would know, that make the gesture so special and so meaningful.
To say I miss her is a gross understatement and I hope she knows I will be holding that same yellow rose when we finally meet again.