Friday, July 16, 2010

fire and rain

this is a bittersweet day for me. this would've been my mom's 58th birthday. i've written about her before, what happened, how she got sick and how she went. but i'm not really interested in focusing on the end of things. it sucks that she was so plagued with illnesses mental and physical over her life. but there was a lot of good in that woman, and i miss her on days like this.

she was a force of nature when she had her wits about you. so damn brilliant. no one could compete with her brain. (i like to think i take after her in that.) when i graduated from law school in may, my dad and i had about five minutes to ourselves in the midst of familial insanity, and he said to me, "your mom would've been so damn proud of you." that was probably the most meaningful thing i was told during all of that. she wanted to go to law school, but it never happened. she taught kindergarten and worked as a legal secretary instead. she'd have been great at it.

when she left us, i played the live version of "fire and rain" by james taylor from his album one man band on a non-stop loop for about a week. i thought i'd have more time. don't we all. but i've since made peace with what's happened. she's free. that's what matters. i have my memories of her, and i have the knowledge that i've done right by her legacy. i've grown into what she wanted for me. that's enough for me.

top of the world, mom.


  1. This post combined with the older entry about your parents touched me deeply. To have made peace with what's happened and to recognize how proud she is of you, that should be more than enough for you. (I only recently met you and yet, after reading this, I'm proud of you and can't wait to give you a huge hug when I see you next!)

  2. Moms are always proud of you (except when they open the door and there's a cop standing there, but that's a whole 'nother story). The cool thing is, the memories that appear most often are the best ones: birthdays, graduations, vacations, posting bail (kidding, really), teaching you to drive...

    It's ok to miss her 'cause that shows how much she meant to you, and how special you were to her. Celebrate a little, light a candle, raise a glass, whatever works for you.


your turn.