Her legacy

My Mom's been appearing in my dreams again most nights...even the ones where she clearly doesn't belong.

I can't believe it's been six years since her death. What saddens me most is that Gillian doesn't really remember her and she and Holly never got to know each other. They were robbed of their time with her. And she was really getting into being a grandma. People who had known her for years came up to me at her funeral and said how she had changed in the 2+ years after Gillian was born. Much to our surprise, she became one of those grandmas who always had a recent picture to show you and a story to tell about her granddaughter.

But if she were here, I don't know how (or if) our life would be the same. Had her health declined further, it is likely that she would be living here. And that would have a major impact on us all.

Mom left me a lot. Nothing really material, but a lot of what defines me (and now our family). Some good, some not.

She taught me sarcasm, and an appreciation of British humor. Some of my earliest memories are of the years when we lived with my aunt and uncle after my dad died, and lying in bed listening to my mother laugh out loud at the programs on PBS. During some of those dark days, this was the only laughter in our basement apartment.

My mom showed me to how hold a grudge. In her later years this would become more prevalent. After her death I was surprised to hear that she had a rift with a neighbor who had lived next door to us for 25 years, and that they had not spoken for three years

Much as I have tried, I have trouble letting go of things that bother me. I still aspire, as I did in high school, to live with no regrets. This seems much easier when you are 18 and your whole life stretches out before you. But when the resentments build up, it gets harder and harder to not get bitter. But almost every day I try harder to be the better person. I believe that forgiveness really frees you, and I have experienced this first-hand.

She taught me to put my children first, above all. To fight for them, to sacrifice for them, and to make sure that their lives are full of opportunity. People asked her why she would encourage me to go away to college and for the both of us to incur debt (so significant for someone who never owned a home) to do so. She told them what she told me: "I want her to have a better life than I did." And I do. I regret not having enough chance to improve her life when I had both the heart and the means to do so.

She was almost never affectionate, and I desperately wanted her to be. But this one is easy for me. I try never to miss an opportunity to hug and kiss my kids or to squeeze their hand. I try to always remember that hands are for loving, not hurting.

She taught me to work hard. Not to do anything half-way. That someone is always watching. She was right.

I inherited the chip on her shoulder about my position in life. One of my worst traits is that I am constantly comparing myself to others, and nearly always thinking I come up short. I am not grateful enough, and frequently feel inadequate about my home, my appearance, and myriad other things. It was hard growing up without much in my upper-middle-class hometown, although there were terrific opportunities. It's kind of the same here, where the average house is valued at about a million dollars. The bar is really high. But it's a great place to live. At 38, I still need to learn the lesson that someone will always have more, and there is no shame in that.

She taught me to take care of people if you can. To give back, in whatever way possible. My aunt and uncle helped her out so much, and despite her resentment at needing their assistance, she repaid them with the generosity from her kitchen. I continue to do the same. Six years past mom's death, six months past my uncle's, I never go to see my aunt empty-handed.

So for the good that she left me, I aspire to live as she did. For the bad, I resolve to do better. I guess that's really what it's all about, after all.

I miss you, Mom.