Missing My Mom

It was three years ago this month, that my mom was diagnosed with lung cancer. While the grief has been getting better, there are certain times of the year that it hits me pretty hard. January is one of them and the week before my birthday (this week) is the hardest.

My relationship with my mom was not what you'd call typical. We took turns being the parent, even back when I was 12 and my parents had first separated and I'd tuck my mom into bed. As an adult, my mom and I saw each other nearly every day. I did everything with my mom and as much as she drove me nuts, I know she was the person who understood me the best.

She had just partially retired the October before she was diagnosed, right after I gave birth to my youngest. My mom loved being a Gramma and was looking forward to spending time with the grandbabies. She was tickled with how much Mia looked like I did as a baby, and sometimes I really wish that she could see what a great kid she's turning out to be as are the rest.

After my mom passed, she was cremated and that summer we took her ashes with us to California and I spread them overlooking Lake Berryessa as she wanted me to. I hope she's proud of us, and I hope she knows how much I miss her and love her.