Every night I have a million things to write about. Ok, Ok, not a million- but plenty.
I try and weed out what's lame vs. what's interesting and I usually end up writing the lame stuff.
This, although, is not so lame.
Last night I felt Her. I felt Her close to me, like I haven't since right after she passed. My Mom.
She was here. I know it. I have no doubt. I could have practically thrown my arms around Her and cried.
I was sitting on the couch, after T went to bed, and Nathan was still sleeping. I was thoroughly engrossed in a Jeremy Irons flick when I- for no apparent reason- closed my eyes and felt warm.
I tilted my head to the left, smiled, and saw Her standing behind me, behind the couch, with Her hand on my shoulder. She ran Her hand softly over my hair and down the right side of my neck. She looked down at me and smiled. I smiled back, and soaked Her in.
She was here. I know it.
Maybe as a reminder that She will always be able to help me, always have an influence- or maybe it's because I am ready to really see Her... not by dying... but by opening up.
I have always felt like I was ready to "see" Her standing in front of me with Her beautiful smile, red hair, and arms out stretched... but maybe I never really was.
Perhaps last night was the first night.
I understand this is...well...controversial, and some people are holding back scoffs or lifting eyebrows at me- but who's to say this isn't just a terrible anecdote I am working up for reading pleasure (or pain?).
Back to the point at hand.
I miss my Mom. I always will. Duh. The thing is, I really need Her. Most folks pray to "God". I usually pray to my Mom. On occasion I have slipped "God" into my private conversation to Her, but for the most part it's She and I.
She was strong. She was wonderful.
Thank you Mom, for being with me last night. Thank You for being so close, and letting me feel Your touch again. I needed it- You know that. Maybe now I am strong enough to be closer to You.
It was wonderful.