Where Are You, Mom?

Now that I'm expecting my own child I am often traveling down memory lane thinking about my own Mother. I often think that everything would be different for me if she still was here, if she lived. I would be able to do it with her, raise my child with her, love it with here and receive help from her. She was so good with children and she loved each and every little one she met on her way. She was a real MOM. She would scold you and comfort you, she would feed you with the most delicious food and she would listen to your worries. But she is no more.

I remember how she was waiting for me to get pregnant. My both brothers have long been married with children and it was me, the only girl in the family, she was waiting for. It was her joke I truly disliked that I should never worry if I ever got pregnant without a partner because she would help me; just like she helped my sisters-in law and brothers. It sounded scandalous to me whet she was saying. I knew better and I was waiting for my beloved one to have children with. I never had thought of doing it by myself. So oftentimes she would get annoyed "Moooom" after her joke. And here I am: pregnant, without a partner but also without a Mom to take me though it.

When I sometime pass by her picture in my flat I'm asking: where are you, Mom? Where are you when I need you so much? And depending on the level of pain that surfaces, I'm asking her this quietly with no remorse but sometimes it hurts so much that I'm tempted to toss her picture across the room screaming: WHERE ARE YOU NOW, MOM?! But I just wipe my tears and carry on.

I know she is there looking at me from above and I know that she is crossing her fingers for me and my success. I know she would be happy to have a grand-child but I also know that she must be regretting now herself that she didn't give herself a chance to participate in this. I had a dream today. We were together in the room, we both knew she was dead though we still could have a conversation with each other. I felt her and I could touch her. She was there but she wasn't. She showed me her brand new LV bag (???) and something else she has bought and then we talked about things. All was calm and bright. There was this beautiful tree of artificial flowers in the middle of the room and I thought how wonderful it would be for a baby to sleep underneath. I wanted to stay in this room forever with her and the baby because I knew it will all be good. When I told her about it, I saw her face grew sadder, she closed the door and she took me in her arms, me head on her opulent breasts and she rocked me in her arms like she used to, and we both cried because we knew that her being there for me was impossible. Then I woke up.

I know she is regretting that she can't be here but I also know that she is with me all the time. I just have to get used to the reality that Mom will be there but in another way. 

I'm sure there will be many times in coming years when I will feel more this would left on my heart by her death. Being a mother was everything to her. So much that she totally forgot about herself in the process... But she was great Mom and she was Mom for everybody around her.