12 years ago, yesterday, my mother passed away.
She was 87 years old. That seemed like quite an achievement, considering she often said that she didn't expect to live much past 70. I was never quite sure why she kept saying that, but there's a good chance that it might simply have been her vanity speaking... telling her that she was unable to picture herself as "an old lady."
We weren't really that close. Mostly, the chasm between us was related to our very different views on life and what we considered important. That, and perhaps the fact that I was one of maybe a handful of people she ever knew who seemed largely immune to her manipulations.
Twelve years is a pretty good length of time to process the intricacies of a connection to someone we were once closely related to. Time — at least for me — tends to somewhat "soften" anger and resentment at "what WASN'T" and pay a little more attention to what WAS.
I love the "symmetries" life often presents us with. A few days ago, I wrote about the way I seem to have inadvertently found my way to a place that reminds me much of the better parts of my childhood.
Similarly, last night — before consciously remembering that it was the anniversary of my mother's passing — I cooked a rotisserie chicken and made fresh green beans broiled with a sprinkling of Swiss cheese; later recalling that it was really my favorite thing my mother cooked when I was a kid. Whereas my mother was pretty close to being a chef, most of what she made was "too complicated" for my tastes (at the time), but simple grilled chicken with potatoes and green beans was always a favorite.
People sometimes ask me whether I miss my mother, and I can't answer that question in a straightforward way.
I don't think any of us can, honestly. I miss aspects of my mother, but I mostly I don't miss her. I miss being in the kitchen with her; she taught me pretty much all I know about food, and cooking was one of the areas in which we had fun and generally had "peaceful relations."
And that's what I choose to focus on, 12 years later... while remaining cognizant of the way the rose-colored glasses of passing time tends to make us overlook things that were pretty awful.
But life is too short and too precious to carry around anger and resentment forever. What good does that do? We can't undo the past, and eternally re-hashing what made us bitter and disappointed in the past doesn't allow us to move forward. We get stuck. I'd rather remember the good bits, and be here now.
Thanks for reading, and have a great remainder of your week!
How about YOU? Do anniversaries of dead loved ones give you pause for thought? Are there specific things about people that you really miss? Comments, feedback and other interaction is invited and welcomed! Because — after all — SOCIAL content is about interacting, right? Leave a comment — share your experiences — be part of the conversation!
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Created at 20210804 15:45 PDT
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