Tomorrow marks an anniversary for me but I wish it didn't. My mother passed away on the 18th of June, more years ago than I care to remember.
Every year I wait for the day. Every year I shed a few tears, some years more than others. Every year I think about what might have been, what kind of person I would have become growing up with her around. Every year I get angry about being cheated out of a proper relationship with the most important person in my life.
I don't want to feel that way any more. It doesn't help. Instead this year I want to try and look at things differently. My mother loved my father. She loved me. She was loved in return. Every year the memories fade but I'm hanging on to the good ones. I can still hear her laugh. I can still remember her beautiful eyes. I don't look anything like her (more's the pity) but I have her sense of humour and her quick mind. I don't have the terrible disease which eventually took her from me and according to the medical specialist I'm unlikely to develop it now. I get to live the life she couldn't. I get to live longer than she did. I'm healthy and independent.
I had the good fortune to have had the love of a mother. I didn't have it for that long but I had it. That's not something that everyone gets.
So, tomorrow, I'll try and see it differently. I'm not sure I won't cry - in fact I'm pretty sure I will - but I'm going to try to move on. Give thanks for the life she gave me and let go at the anger at the life taken away.