It's not Mother's Day but I've been thinking about my mom quite a bit last week. When I think of my mom, I think of Sue, my second mom. I don't think of her as my step-mom. She's not the one who gave birth to me but she's the one that raised me.
My mom would have been 72 on Dec. 3rd. She used to make the statement that it took four days for the results of her birth to reach Pearl Harbor. It's also the way I remember when she was born.
I was watching a silly sitcom and there was some friction between the grandma and the step-mom over who deserved the "mom" necklace made out of macaroni by the three year old girl. The grandma who helped raise her the first couple years or the step-mom who had married the father. As most sitcoms do, it all worked out well and they were with all the people who cared about each other and that made them a family.
Earlier that night, before we watched that sitcom, our family was setting up the Christmas tree. The kids started singing and my wife sang a little and I remember thinking that my mom would have loved singing Christmas songs with my kids.
Can I be honest and tell you that I'm upset that my mom's not here to see her grandkids and that my kids don't get to know their grandma? She's been gone over 18 years now. I missed her when I was single but I miss her even more now that I have kids.
I am comforted by the fact that I'll see her again in heaven. I know that here on earth her life was miserable and that she's happy now. There's still a part of me that wishes she could be here to celebrate Christmas with her son (the one she raised as if she'd given birth to him) and his family.
Moms are special and I'm glad my kids get to enjoy the holidays with their mom.
