Mom

My mom had a smile and a laugh that radiated with her joy. It was contagious. It was happy. It was a small view into what I imagine heaven will be. When she was happy, you knew it. You could see it not only in her eyes and in her smile, but in every ounce of her being. She was completely happy when she laughed, and I miss it.

I remember my mom's wonderful smile, and I occasionally see it on my face. Her smile also graces Little Clover's face and her laugh rings in his. I remember the hugs my mom gave me and how, despite her small size, they covered me. I still feel her hug in the blanket she crocheted. Even though I prefer knitting to crochet, I feel connected to my mom each time I hold a single crochet hook in my hand. The blanket she made is one of my favorite things, and to me irreplaceable.

I was intending on preparing something special for my mom, something that would be perfect, but I couldn't. I could not find the words to describe just how wonderful my mother was. Words were not enough. My mom was more than what words could describe. My mom was love, was joy, was sorrow, was hardship, was life. My mother was complete. She loved completely, and I am blessed to have received her love. She may be gone from my life, but she is forever in my heart and in the hearts and lives of those who were graced with her presence. I love you, Momma. Happy birthday.