It's Mother's Day... my second one without her. I'm in Wasilla right now, relaxing on the couch with a cup of coffee and bacon sizzling in the oven.
Last night at the grocery store, I fought back the tears when I saw people walking up and down the aisles with their Mother's Day bouquets. For a split second, I had made the mental note that I needed to be sure to call Momma for Mother's Day.
This morning, I awoke to this thoughtful comment from a sweet stranger in Florida who found my "Memories of Momma" photo tribute on Instagram. My Mom loved angels, so it was especially touching that this woman referred to Momma in that way. Her words are a gift!
I can't speak for others' experiences dealing with grief, but for me, getting past the "firsts" has been the toughest. This year, my head is a little clearer now that I'm further from the fog of grief. And these little surprise comments — from strangers and from friends — sure help too.
Today, we baked a big peach cobbler, in honor of my Momma. Piping hot from the oven and smothered with ice cream, my heart was warmed with memories of her.
Love and miss you everyday, Momma.
