Missing G'ma

This is reprinted from 2014.  I'm on my way to visit G'ma's best friend, the girl next door, the woman who introduced her to my dad.... and my mom is in my heart right now.  

*****

She's everywhere today.  I don't know why.  I'm not complaining.  I'm merely stating the facts.

I got through all the lights this morning on the way to Pilates.  I don't know why, but I thanked G'ma for the help.

On my way to pick up the paper from the end of the driveway this morning, I noticed that the bunnies had eaten yet another zinnia; I'm down to 12 of the original 15 I planted in the ground last weekend. Peeved and grimacing, I made myself laugh by remembering G'ma's advice on avoiding mold on zinnias - don't plant them.  It took the edge off my angst.

Little Cuter wants help hemming curtains.  My first response was "Where are G'ma and Bubba when we need them?!?"  I could drag out G'ma's sewing machine and try to make straight seams on her expensive fabric, but I demurred.  My heart was aching as I refused her request, but I'm really not good enough to create something she'll be looking at for the next several decades.  My maternal ancestors taught me how to sew; they couldn't imbue me with their talent, though.

I want my Mommy back.

I want to share the joy of impending baby-ness with her.  I want to drive to the top of Mt. Lemmon and

have a picnic, wrapping her in sweaters and sweatshirts and blankets from my car because we forgot how cold it gets at 7000' above sea level.  I want to remember the straw for her Diet Sprite.

 I want to take her to the Bluegrass Festival in the neighboring town this weekend and watch her jiggle to the tunes.

I want.... and I quote Mick Jagger to myself as I remind myself of the impossibility of my desires... because I can't always get what I want.

I want those days back - the ones where I drove past the pod-castle and felt too tired or lazy or achy or unwilling to drop in and hug her for a moment or two.  I knew then, as I passed by without stopping, that I would regret it later on.  I was right.

I was a good daughter.  I know that.  She didn't remember the gaps between my visits, she was always glad that I was there, she never gave me grief when it was time for me to leave.  I monitored and supervised and cherished.... and I wish I were still doing it today.



Dr K's mom will celebrate her 100th birthday this summer, and a
party is being planned.  The photo is priceless and so is she... living alone, playing bridge, sleeping through movies with her son by her side. We'll be there to congratulate her and to honor her and to admire her and I'll be remembering all the friends who attended G'ma's 90th Birthday Party last year.

I love the memories we created during her sojourn in the desert.

I want to be making more of them.