She is Within Me ...

"I miss missing you ..." These were the words I was feeling as I walked into the weekend. Feeling the acuteness of emotion after my sister's most recent visit, I thought of Mom which resulted in a fleeting "I miss missing you" moment.

The connection our family shares is a gift like no other. It is a gift I hope to pass along to my family. It is a gift I see within my sibling's families. It is so poignant at times, it leaves me breathless.

I felt myself stop and think to myself, "Mom, are you here?"

The day gained momentum and moved on but the feeling remained. I woke up Saturday morning and simply thought to myself "I miss missing Mom ...". Then I spotted two rabbits in our neighbor's "rabbit garden". An overgrown area in my neighbor's yard seems to attract rabbits - I would like to grow a garden such as this. Rabbits make me think of time spent with Mom.

I felt a feeling of missing Mom wash over and through me, then went to my library of Mom's books. I felt the strong urge to simply lose myself in a book I didn't want to put down. A lot of Mom's books are biographies, non-fiction, historical and basically educational. I wanted something to grab my interest and hold me still. I found the book "Half Broke Horses" by Jeannette Walls. She had me at "Those old cows knew trouble was coming before we did ..." - the very first sentence of her book.

A piece of paper wafted to the ground when I opened the book. Mom's writing. Simply the words "certificate" and "diploma". I created a story in my mind behind the words she wrote. Mom questioned everything she didn't understand. She was wondering ...

I kept Mom's scrap of paper as my bookmark. It was comforting to think she had read the pages I was about to read. There is something about opening a book and feeling her presence that is akin to the breathlessness poignancy I have felt after separating myself from my siblings. I just breathed in the moment, was grateful for the sensation of Mom's presence and savored the story within the pages of the book.

The next morning, I was eager to reread "The Glass Castle", also by Jeannette Walls. I had bought this book myself and offered to give it to Mom but she said she already had it. "Half Broke Horses" was the story before the story which was told in "The Glass Castle". I sat down with a renewed appreciation of the book, knowing the history which preceded it.

I turned a page and found crumbs within the book. Pretty good chance they were crumbs from something Mom was eating as she read the book. A fair chance that they may have been cookie crumbs. Mom enjoyed her cookies once upon a lifetime ago ...

Another heart swelling moment as I replayed the thought of Mom reading the exact pages at a different time and place. There was a slight time warp sensation as I envisioned Mom within me, me within Mom and the connection of the book I was holding.

I have noticed myself feeling this way when I butter toast. I have a crystal clear memory of the way Mom buttered toast. Her goal was to take enough margarine the first time, so she didn't end up with toast crumbs in her margarine container. She meticulously buttered her toast to the crust. I feel me in her/her in me when I watch myself do exactly the same motion. Suddenly, I am standing at her kitchen island, reliving the many times I watched her care and precision as she buttered her toast.

In these moments, I feel like I'm in a space-time continuum. I'm on this plane over here; Mom is on her plane sometime in the past; and neither one of us are here nor there at the same time anymore. But we are still connected.

She is within me, I was within her. I miss missing her ... but I'm grateful to still feel her so strongly at times.