My Mother was an Irish redhead, in every sense of the word. She had the greenest eyes and the most beautiful skin.
I was her mini-me with the exception of the skin. I am ruddy, rosecea prone to breakout skin.
When sjhe was angry her eyes would flash and cut right through you. I see those eyes everyday in the mirror.
In a few weeks I will be the same age she was when she died. She had the most horrible death, mainly because of the decisions we made as a family. Therein lies a lot of guilt and shame.
I've always felt that she got cheated, we got cheated. I realize many people have lost a parent at an early age. My father included.
I miss her terribly, miss her phone calls. Miss the togetherness we had when she was here. Miss my daddy who couldn't stay here without her. Miss all the things I took for granted when she was alive. I never had a better friend although we often clashed. My poor dad, with two green-eyed redheads.
She stepped up for me when my son died. She talked to the doctors and made all the arrangements, with my dad, for a burial and memorial. Though she never talked about it with me I know she went out to the cemetery often. (she also gave me the most useless advice I've ever heard but I give her a pass for I know she was also grieving)
She also kept a secret from me about that day that came flying out in anger years later. I've never known how to handle that secret. I know she never intended to tell me and there have been many times I wish she had taken it to her grave. But to be honest, it only validated what I already knew, what I had seen in that hospital room. It's still heavy on the heart.
In the end, I forgive her and believe she was trying to protect me. I am wearing the chain i gave her on her last birthday...I think of her often. I miss you mamma.
