It has been almost eight years since you died, but I still find you in unexpected places. Is it any wonder that questions and curiosities about you show up in my writing and my journey as a mother?
I find you in the soap products I still use because you used them.
I find you every time I hear ANY song from Fiddler on the Roof because you played that 8-Track tape until it broke.
I find you in the lines on my face, which is starting to show glimpses of you in your 40s.
I find you in the little ways I protect my children; and though I haven't sewn them neon orange coats to wear to school so all the cars will see them - I now know that coat was stitched from a mother's love.
I find you in that old AM radio station when it plays The Entertainer.
I find you in slim, green glass iced-cold Coca-Cola bottles.
I find you in my brand new interest in knowing the actual names of flowers.
I find you when I make my kids Kool-Aid and I let them stir.
I find you when an older mom gives me a tip on how to keep your kid from getting lice at school only to think back, "Hey, my mom did that when I was little" and I never knew why. Now I do.
I find you when I discover a curious fact and squirrel it away in a notebook and everyone wonders why.
I find you in my recent need to have a magnifying glass handy.
I find you in canteloupe even though I LOATHE it due to that bumper crop you grew in our backyard and all there was to eat FOREVER was canteloupe; but my daughters love it like candy, so I buy it.
I find you in the Mother's Day cards I get from my daughters and wish I sent you one every year. If you were here, I would tell you that it is only through the lens of being a mother myself that I see and know and feel all that you did.
Keep showing up in little places and I'll keep looking.
My mom (right) with her sister in 1959.
"What's in the marrow is hard to take out of the bone." - Irish Proverb
from Karen Harrington