When I was a little girl, I always did everything that my mother asked of me. She was a beautiful woman. A thin, willowy girl when she was younger — her wispy frame remained with her until her later years. As I got older, we began to fight, as most mothers and daughters do.
Today marks the fourth year that I won't have my Mom on Mother's Day. I often remind friends who post photos of their celebrations on Facebook, how lucky they are to still have their mothers around. My sisters, and I, had not expected our mother to die when she did. We always thought, since two of her surviving sisters were older than she was, that she would live until past her 90s. But, as we painfully discovered, mothers can be taken away from you when you least expect.
Whenever a friend tells me they are fighting with their mother, or are angry about something their mother told them, I tell them to stop. I tell them to make up with their Mom right away.
You see, the day before my Mom went into the hospital for heart surgery, I fought with her. She had insisted on making a trip to the grocery store in her frail state and I was angry with her for doing so. Turned out, she had gone to buy ingredients to make my favorite soup. Despite her failing heart, all she wanted was to make sure that I had something to eat.
Little did we know, that would be the last day she would ever cook at her stove. The next day we brought her to the hospital for her surgery, from which she never recovered. ✿