So It Sneaked Up on Me

I was talking to someone yesterday and I said that I will take care of that by mid-April.  He looked at me and said that a week of April had already gone by so I should hurry.  A week of April has passed and that means the anniversary of my mother's passing is here.  Tonight will mark 3 years since she went to bed and didn't wake up.  Funny, it wasn't on my mind, I guess I have become used to the idea that she is no longer around.  I am not happy nor proud of that.  I see the influence of my mother in many things that I do.  

I am at an age where it seems every few weeks another person I know loses a parent.  Each time I want to reach out and bring comfort to the bereaved, and each time I remind them that one way that our loved ones have eternal life is through us and our living out the values and traditions that they gave us.  But another way is to tell their stories.  There are many stories I could tell about my mom.  

My mom taught me to cook.  Well not directly, she didn't sit me down and instruct me, but cooking real food was something my mom did almost every day when we were growing up.  She would rip open a bag of potatoes and peel them while she asked about our day.  I remember watching her chop red cabbage for a dish I didn't appreciate until I was much older and one of my favorite memories is that of her making her creamed spinach, grinding it through a hand cranked grinder.  Her kitchen was a place of learning.  In my mind she talked through what she was doing.  She also instilled in me the importance of food and family, but also modeled for me a way to make the mundane action of cooking dinner a special moment, a holy time.  I loved the kitchen and at times the dining room when her meal prep out grew the space in there.  She is with when I make mashed potatoes and put a chicken in the oven.  She is there when I ponder what will make the soup pop and she is there when I enjoy the food that made me move my dinner around my plate hoping she wouldn't make me eat the cabbage or brussel sprouts.  

Mom I miss you.  May I never forget all you gave me and may that live on forever. 

God filled with mercy,

dwelling in the heavens' heights,
bring proper rest
beneath the wings of your Shehinah,
amid the ranks of the holy and the pure,
illuminating like the brilliance of the skies
the souls of our beloved and our blameless
who went to their eternal place of rest.
May you who are the source of mercy
shelter them beneath your wings eternally,
and bind their souls among the living,
that they may rest in peace.
And let us say: Amen.

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