Today is the anniversary of my mom’s death. Every year it hits me like an avalanche. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this day, or to spending my birthday without her (I was born on her birthday, August 24th, we were also both born on a Tuesday, coincidentally). This day is always painful, and because I haven’t spent it alone in years, this year feels especially harsh, so I thought I would share a few photos of her and write a little something.
I’ve been thinking the last few years of trying to recreate some of the clothes she’s wearing in the few photos I have of her when she was young, so those are the photos I’ll be sharing those today. She had an amazing sense of style – I wish I had photos of her disco days, but I honestly don’t know if any exist, which is too bad. She was one hell of a cool woman. If I had a time machine or a TARDIS, I’d love to go back in time and be her friend. Or even just get to spend more time with her. I’d give anything to hear her voice again, to see her again, to hug her again.
(My mom is on the left in each of these photos, also pictured in the last colour photo is me as a baby in red overalls circa 1982)
She was a difficult woman, but also fiercely intelligent and fascinating, she was magnetic and it was impossible not to love her even with all of the things that made her difficult. I can relate to her more and more as I get older, and for a woman who I looked to as a sort of mirror to prove my existence growing up, my life has oddly mirrored hers in too many ways – I can only hope that I am learning from both her triumphs and her mistakes. She is a huge part of me, and of all of my sisters – and even my niece, and because of that I know that as long as we are in this world, she will never truly be gone from it.
I love you, mom.