Sunday, May 12, 2013

Mother's Day Without My Mother

1926-2013
This will be my first Mothers' Day without my mother who passed away last month at age 86. When you lose your mother, you lose a keeper of your family memories, an eyewitness account, a living legacy.  Gone are the stories partially told, or never told, that will never be told again. There is never enough time. Nevertheless, I remind myself: Your mother also lives within you, in your children and in future generations. But Mothers’ Day will never be the same again without your mother.
The Grand and Great-Grand generations







A cute kid until he turned himself ...

... into THIS!

5 comments:

  1. Mine left us 5 years ago last month. Every May 12 I have to remember that I have nobody to buy one of those funny cards I used to find.

    The dead live only in us and at my age I'm like a haunted house.

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  2. Nice tribute Octo. That rings so true for so many of us. When I first saw your notice on the beach, I was a little bit late to the party. All of my thoughts were centering on my own mother at the time, so I didn't want to make it all about me when you were the one grieving. Hopefully, you also enjoyed some golden moments, maybe in the last ten years or so when you and your parents were both kinda old, as I did last month with Mom and Dad both. They opened up their home to me to convalesce for two weeks after a total hip replacement. Every minute was so rewarding and enjoyable for all three of us. Dad showed me his latest inventions and accessories that he had built for his new high-def fm radio projects. Every morning we would join in the kitchen for coffee, breakfast and the newspaper. Every evening, my mother and I would enjoy a bowl of raisin bran together at the end of the night, reading or talking. I showed her a couple of short stories by Tolstoy that I knew she would enjoy. We reminisced about all of the families, professors and kids that we had known for the last fifty years growing up together in La Jolla. My mom allowed that I actually turned into a fairly decent human being some time over the years.

    But the stories that are forever lost are an amazing tie to the past that it is valuable to try to record. Stories from both parents about growing up in a simpler time. Stories that my mother learned about our geneology. Mom was smart enough to write down her own biography. Much of father's work has been preserved in an actual book that was written about one of his colleagues. He didn't get his own book. Soon all of the rest of his body of research will be archived at the University of Iowa and only the astrophysics historians of academia will be able to access his data.

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  3. She's beautiful, (O)CT(O).

    I was very sorry to hear you lost your mother. I hope the memories you keep of her will help you as you go through the stages of grief.


    We keep our mothers within us always. When I look in the mirror, I see her--at least what my sisters gave me to remember her by.

    Mothers Day is always a bitter sweet day for me.

    When we share our stories, I find it's a bit more bearable.

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  4. Nicely done, Octo.

    I look into the mirror, I see my dad. I look at my cluttered desk and my love of cooking and I feel my mom. My dad died when I was 23, my mom died in 2000. I still miss both of them and I always will.

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  5. Good analogy Capt - feeling like a haunted house myself these days.
    OCTO - you lost your Mother such a short time ago I know you are still in that place of "firsts." First Mother's Day without her, first of many holidays, birthdays...I don't think the "seconds" or "thirds" are that much easier, just less raw.
    We adjust, we go on but nothing is ever the same again. Hugs to you my friend.

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