Whenever my mom would sign a card or a note she wrote to me or one of my siblings, she would draw a little heart. Sometimes she would draw them on the front of our brown paper lunch bags, too. As I got older, I thought they were embarrassing or too sappy.
Now that she's gone, I'm collecting as many of my mom's hand-drawn hearts as I can find. I'm looking at them, showing them to Sabine, hanging them, framing them--trying to absorb them in an effort to feel her again.
And when I see heart anything else, I secretly want it because it beautifully reminds me of how unusually enormous, loving and forgiving her heart actually was--until its very last beat, after which came the loudest and the saddest silence I've ever heard.
2 comments:
The love that you have for your mom touches me so that I imagine myself missing my own Mom. You have a beautiful gift and I know that your Mother is so proud of the woman you have grown up to be. Keep writing, I can't wait to learn and know your Mother better<3<3<3
Thank you so much, Michelle. What an encouraging, warming comment. I think there needs to be more people like you out there. I think your children must be very lucky...and your mom must be a genius...spend as much time with all of them as you possibly can <3
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