Marking the anniversary of her mother’s passing, my friend Meg has written a beautiful guest piece about the special way she keeps her memory alive.
I wouldn’t say it has ever been a favorite holiday. I’ve certainly had some doozies…like the year I came down with a violent stomach flu just as my boyfriend finished cooking us a romantic home-cooked meal, or the V-day I totaled my car on the way to my Gyno appointment (since going to the gynecologist’s not fun enough), or that it is an annual reminder that I bear no self control in the face of dark chocolate. So, all in, I’ve traditionally ranked the day pretty low on the holiday scale, perhaps just slightly above tax day.
I like to imagine my mom’s reactions to the happenings in the world. You know, the important stuff…
- Would she be just as tired of the Kardashians as the rest of us? The answer is YES. She’d probably sigh with great exasperation at the thought of a Kylie / Kendall spin-off. Btw- her fave was Khloe, she thought Kourtney looked like a rat…not the general consensus at the time, but years later, I realize she was ahead of the curve.
- Would she have been as invested in Homeland as she was The Wire? ABSOLUTELY. A few weeks before she passed, still very frail and weak from the chemo we’d stopped during her advancing cancer, my mom woke up saying she had the most horrible dream about “that poor woman.” My mom was all there mentally until the end, but I couldn’t help but be concerned, trying to discern this seemingly nonsensical gibberish. What woman? ”Don’t be silly,” she explained. Her dream was about “Detective Kima Greggs” who was seriously injured during the Season 1 Wire finale my mom had watched the night prior (Sorry, SPOILER ALERT).
- Would she have preferred Pippa to Kate? I’m still trying to figure this one out. I do, however, know with great certainty that she would have ordered Thai food and stayed up all night watching the Royal Wedding coverage.
I hold onto these thoughts. They are not technically memories, but they are connections that run deep, assuring me that I still know her and in a way, she is still here. This year, when someone wronged me, her characteristic “don’t eff with me” attitude boiled within me. She was a sweet little Scottish woman, but you didn’t want to get on her bad side. I chose the high road, but smiled as I embraced this little fighter inside, this tiger, this unexpected emotional inheritance. She was with me.
A few weeks ago, I naively crammed in 11 episodes of Homeland in the course of 2 weeks. I awoke from my nightmares only to find my day thoughts conspiring to assist “Carrie” in her hunt for “Abu Nazir” and bring down Al Queda once and for all. Out of control…I know. BUT, there mom was again. And again, I smiled.
Love comes in many forms. Today my Valentine is an angel. I’d imagine she’s spending tonight designing her Oscar Party menu in honor of Billy Crystal’s Triumphant return. Me too, mom. Me too…
Meg is a Marketing Executive working in Hollywood, with an outstanding circle of friends, and the proud daughter of a father that took tremendous care of her mother up until the end.