Happy Tuesday everyone! I hope you all had a lovely Easter. We spent it at my parent’s house and had some time to reflect and enjoy each other’s company and what Easter is all about. Jesus’ resurrection. While we were there, Ellie was crying pretty bad and started mumbling, “Ma ma ma ma.” My mom asked if she could stop eating to take care of Ellie and I said, “No that’s ok. You keep eating. Sometimes, you just need your Mama.” Then I thought to myself, “Why am I telling her this? She knows this already. She’s MY Mama.” Later I had a chance to really reflect on it. Does she really know that? I mean, surely she knows that sometimes she really needs her Mama, but her Mama passed away 10 years ago. Surely she still needs her Mama but no one is here that she can call Mama. Then it struck me pretty hard. I never want to know the feeling of needing my Mama and her not being her.
I can’t relate to anyone who has lost their mother. All I can do is express my deepest sympathies but secretly, in the back of my mind, I’m thinking, “I never want to know what living without my Mama is like.” Death is a part of life. That’s inevitable. Someday, I will need my Mama and she won’t be here. My first inclination is to always try to find a way to make sure that that never happens, but in reality, it’s going to happen and it’s going to be a pain I never want to know and it will cut deeper than I could ever know. Morbid, I know.
I’ve asked my Mama several times to let me photograph her, but she still says no. When she’s ready, she will ask, but in the mean time, the most recent pictures I can think that I have of her are from over a year ago when my dad, Carly, and her were picking oranges from their orange tree at my childhood home. They’ve since sold the home and moved much closer to us. I want pictures of my parents. I know, as women, we don’t want to be photographed. All of our insecurities rush in as soon as we sit in front of a camera and we see things in ourselves that we don’t like. Even if you can’t get past that, can you at least get past that there are people in this world that love you and don’t see those things? We just see you? We see our life together, our joys and sorrows, our smiles and tears, and life in between?
Some days, I really need my Mama, but I don’t tell her. And I should. My children always let me know when they need me and I know someday, that will stop too. The small things are precious and we have to savor them while they last because nothing lasts forever. Why shouldn’t I give her that same blessing? It was my Mama who I turned to in my darkest time and that’s the last time I can remember her truly knowing that I needed her. I love my Mama. She’s needed more than she knows. XOXO