20 years ago today I lost my mother, Sally. Her death was completely unexpected and occurred at home as she sat in her chair in one of her favorite spots, reading a mystery novel and sipping a cup of tea. The phone call from my father with the news is one I will never forget. There were no good byes- she was here one day and gone the next. So, September 18th looms large. This particular anniversary reminds me anew how sad I am that she did not live to see all the good things that happened for her five children (and their children) since she died.
Like many, I did not have a perfect relationship with my mother. It was fraught with complications and the stressors brought by our different personalities. But there is not a day that passes that I do not think of her, or wish I could call her and share the highs and lows of daily life. I miss her intellect, her voice, and her wise way of wrapping up an issue with her unique kind of clarity. I miss how happy just seeing me could make her and how her eyes lit up when one of her children or my father walked in to a room.
I only hope that wherever she is she knows how much I will always appreciate how she encouraged and reminded me to be my best self. In that way Sally was the world's best mom, a true feminist and one of the smartest people I have ever known.