80

Today would have been my mom’s 80th birthday; twenty-two years ago was the last birthday I celebrated with her. We were in Florida visiting my dad’s sister and her family, the details of the day a vague memory.

Since that December day in 1998, much had changed.

Less than four months later my dad would make that phone call that would forever change my life. Two years later, my son would be born, the grandchild she would never hold. Nearly sixteen years later, I would hold my dad’s hand as he took his last breath. A few years after that, my marriage would end.

I wonder how different my life would have been these last twenty-two years had she still been alive…

While she has been gone for over two decades, there are ways she is still present, her influence imprinted on me. For better and worse, my mom has continued to shape who I am, even in her absence.

Usually on a birthday, we offer gifts to the one whose special day it is. Today, I consider the gifts she gave me. We can argue whether they’re due to nature or nurture; it’s probably a blend of the two.

Stubbornness. Oh, was that woman stubborn. While she wasn’t like this about everything, when her mind was made up about something, just stand back. This attribute has been both a blessing and a curse for me.

Generosity. My mom would do anything for anyone. I think of the many times she would give both time and gifts to others. While I’m not nearly as generous as she was, I’m thankful she taught me the importance of giving to others.

Depression. She struggled with depression throughout her life. It was the albatross around her neck. As I have grown older, learned more, and reflected on her life, I see the ways it haunted her. Exploring this has helped me better understand my own struggles with depression.

Intellect. I don’t know how “smart” my mom was, but she really enjoyed learning and figuring things out. I would watch her sit in our living room and examine spreadsheets for work, trying to solve a problem. She helped shape my love for learning and exploration.

As I think back on my mom’s life, these are but a few of the things she gave me, gifts which I continue to open. We are all complex people, a blend of light and dark, wholeness and brokenness, life and death. Learning to appreciate both parts of my parents’ lives has helped me learn to accept both parts of mine.

I wish my mom was still here. I would love to have even a hour to sit with her, to ask questions that will remained unanswered. What I have learned about myself these last several years has raised many new subjects for conversation. There are times I have stood at her gravesite, speaking into eternity.

The answers may never come, but the journey continues.