Missing My Mother

A few days ago, someone asked me what memory of my mother I missed most. I said, “Not memories, exactly. I miss the times she couldn’t be there.” “The times she couldn’t be there? What do you mean?” “For instance, when I graduated from university abroad, or when my daughter was born. When I bought a house. She wasn’t beside me for any of it.” “Well, if she wasn’t there, why do you miss…?” I interrupted. “Because even though she wasn’t beside me then, she was still in my life. She couldn’t applaud for me, but she could tell me on the phone she was proud of me. She couldn’t bring flowers to the hospital when my daughter was born, but she could spend hours on the phone telling my girl stories and singing her lullabies… “Through all those absences, I was secure in knowing she was there. Today her absence is forever, and my heart aches for her…” For the mothers who are no longer here, but will be our shelter forever…