Today is bittersweet. I love being a mother. I don’t let that define who I am. However, I am missing my Grandmothers. I pulled out a card, that I meant to send to one of them, long ago. I think I sent some other card to them instead. Seeing that card, reminded me that I would not be able to send that card to her. I can still send the card to my Mom, from my kids or to their step Grandma. What really hurts, is the fact that I did not get to say goodbye or let her know that I loved her one more time. I did get to tell her that I loved her the last time I saw her.
I have the memories to sustain me. Both left me with wonderful memories and imprints of what it means to be a great woman. There are so many stories. Every time I see a butterfly, I am reminded of my Grandmother on my Father’s side. She loved them. She had beautiful pins that were butterflies. She was always doing something. She loved to try something new. My other Grandmother was the quintessential southern woman. She had, beauty, style, and grace. She loved to cook and be a stay at home mother. She loved to pray for others and to help others where she could. She was beautiful on the inside and on the outside.
Remembering them on Mother’s Day is a good thing. The only way to cherish them, is to carry on what they started. Both amazing women, raising children, the best they can.