I have a newfound respect for all of the people out there that don’t have moms. I feel like though I’ve certainly had my hard days, nothing is as sore as my heart today. All the special tables set up in book stores, Bath and Body Works, Yankee Candle, Francesca’s. CVS. My God, even Price Chopper at the flower counter I had to walk a little bit faster as to pretend I didn’t see the adorable little pink potted plant in a tin watering can that I couldn’t have left in the store because I’d have to have gotten it for my mom. 
It reminds me I didn’t have to buy her a birthday present two months ago, and no Christmas presents this past December. It reminds me, that I don’t have a mom. I don’t have anyone to peruse these tables and displays for. I mean I have lots of moms in my life but ugh. My heart. Honestly can’t take much more. But this experience, that is an every day battle, prepared me for the reality that the days leading up to feeling her absence in all its weight, are actually harder than the day I’m dreading. And can I be honest? It’s gonna suck receiving texts on Mother’s Day that people are “thinking of me” although I know the intention is wonderful and so kind, as I myself have always made it a point to reach out to my friends without moms on that Sunday, and now I know – it sucks! Because no words and no flowers and no hanging plant baskets and no wind chimes from Pier One will ever, ever bring her back.
I even argued with my sister today which honestly almost never happens. This weekend I felt a shift and let Dan know that this will probably be a hard week for me, and that’s when he silently searched my eyes with his and said “I know it will be babe” and in one moment I felt better knowing he both anticipated that statement, and was okay with it, and in another I felt selfish and so bad that he too suffers from my sadness on an entirely different level that I don’t even understand. Dan Phillips you are my angel and I still don’t know how I got so lucky to be loved by you in this life. 
So, if I could tell you one thing it’s that, with every good week there is a week where disaster tears through my heart. With every bout of laughter there is an ugly cry hiding inside a pillow or behind a bedtime t-shirt. There is still, a very deep and gaping hole in the middle of my broken heart.
Today Mav asked me something, which for a three year old, by all means was a weird and out of left field question. He said “mama are you weak?” And I felt myself almost puff my chest out with pride and I said “nope buddy!” And he said “are you shaw?” And I said “if there’s one thing mommy is not, it’s weak.” And I felt so proud and like my blood was infused by my mother’s soul itself in that moment. And it’s times like these when my son acts wise beyond his years and asks me questions that matter and carry real weight with them that I know I’m ok. I know I’m ok because, as I’ve said before, I am Rita’s daughter. And all the blood sweat and tears she put into me, made me. She made me soft and she made me strong. She buffed my rough edges with her gentleness but made sure to keep my heart safe and my mind sound by offering me a pinch of tough love when I so needed it most. She spent her life shaping mine. She loved me and she loved everyone I loved like they were her own. She fed you, she clothed you, she washed your underwear. She was everyone’s mom. She may have even let you have a captain and coke with her when you were 17, if you were sleeping over. Her life was so important to her, and now it’s so special to realize that. Her whole life she prided herself on raising her children, even when we were adults. And now because of her, and the way she taught us love, we belong to each other now more than we ever did before. Even in the very bitter end, we all let her go knowing we were each her favorite. Imagine being loved by her? I hope you can because it was the greatest love I’ve ever known. 
This Mother’s Day, if you are one of the lucky ones, skip the brunch. Skip the presents and the hustle bustle of it all. Take your time to tell your mother how much you love her and everything she means to you. Do something special that you will remember. 
Because last year, was my last year to celebrate my mom. I certainly did not know that it would be the last chance to write to her in a card, or spend time with her, or make her a special cocktail that I could drink with her. We went to brunch at the Thirsty Owl in Saratoga, and then we came back to my house. I bought a bunch of desserts from Healthy Living and she of course enjoyed a piece of each. She got me a bathtub caddy and bath bombs. She sat on my couch being her typical funny self, and I remember not wanting to leave her side while she was here, and hoping somehow she would sleep over that night. I looked forward to more days spent celebrating in my new home. Her helping me in the garden, picking out paint colors, telling Dan he should get me a chandelier for my walk in closet. Her telling me my sauce was missing something, or that I cut the onions too thick. 

Oh mom. I miss you so much. I miss you in everything I do. I miss your voice, and your laugh. And your tan hands and silver rings in the summertime. And your smile. And when you would sing. And when you would kiss me on my neck and ear and in my hair 10 times in a row when we’d leave each other. I miss your two cents. I miss the way you smell. I miss the way you loved me. I’d do anything for one more minute with you. Happy Mother’s Day, your first one in heaven, and the first one that feels like hell down here.
I still needed you 👑💗✨