This morning I woke up heavy. It was Sunday and we had plans to go to the lake, and everyone was home, but I felt a sense of tiredness over my entire being. That cloak. The grief cloak that comes out to play just when you really didn’t need it.

“Mom!! Dad!! Acey’s outside!!” Was what woke me up at 8:30. My wonderful hubs had let me sleep in, but there is no such thing as a dull moment with kids, so up I jumped out of bed and downstairs to the boys snuggling on the couch and Dan French pressing away our coffee, and telling us the day at the lake was on.

Happiness. And then sad. And the tears just came up all at once. I covered my eyes with a paper towel and let out the deepest cry.

Dan sat and didn’t say much, because my hurt hurts him too. I feel guilty for even crying sometimes around him because he has to endure so much pain he never even signed up for really. So within the silence of my sobs, Mav climbed right up on the little bit of lap I have left and wrapped his arms around my neck. He said nothing, just a perfect long hug from the boy who made me a mom. Then Ace asked Dan “mama cyin?” And ran over to join the hug.

They clearly got the job done that they shouldn’t have had to labor. They lifted me out of my little pity party, and it was on with the day. We drove up to the lake like we always do, over the mountain, trying to squeeze conversations in between kids asking three trillion questions, for 55 snacks, and one song request after another. We spent the day with family we love and in the most ideal sunny, unplugged, beautiful setting.

But tonight the cloak looms over me. It covers me in an entirely new set of questions and new things to long for…. things I hear in my head just before I lay it down in my pillow.

Mama. I miss you. I don’t know how it’s been 3 years since God took you home. I wish I could hear you in my house. I wish you could laugh at the way Ace makes these hilarious faces and gestures at all the same things you would. I wish you could have Mav overnight for a special big brother celebration. I wish they had you, too.

I wish I knew you when you were a new mom. I wish I could ask you to come over and save me before I lose my mind. I wish my kids really knew you. And asked for you by name. I wish it didn’t come down to angel feathers and framed pictures and a salt lamp I’ve never turned off, not in 3 years. I wish you were here, and I wish you got to live til you were 110. I wish my baby girl to be could be spoiled by you. I wish I could go out with you this summer and enjoy a drink and a karaoke song with you. I’d marvel at how everyone who saw you wanted to know more about who you were. I wish I could ask you if all the choices I’m making are right. I wish I could have your wisdom and guidance. That extra voice always in my corner, cheering me on. I wish I could look forward to texting you all hours of the night when I bring the new baby home and you’d answer immediately like you did when I first had Mav. I wish you didn’t have to go. I still needed you. I still need you today.

On the 3 year anniversary of my mother’s passing, I can only reflect with gratitude for this time. Yes at times the pain is still too much to process and if I really think too hard I’ll scare myself with the images I can recall. But still, gratitude; for all her absence has created within me. I’ve become more of a fighter, a voice, a source of patience and love to the ones I’d lay my own life down for. Because of my mother and everything she was to me, I’m broken and whole all at once, and the vulnerability spills out my most visible cracks. I try my best to live each day by seeing beauty where it doesn’t normally exist, for listening to my intuition before I speak, and to never take a single person, moment, or experience for granted. I will forever be a work in progress, and always be longing for my first best friend, but because of everything she was, I still stand tall knowing no matter where she is, she’s got my back. It’s been too long down here without you Ma. I miss you and I sometimes still can’t believe you’re gone. I love you, I love you, I love you 👑