I Can’t Stop Thinking of You

I Can’t Stop Thinking of You

During Christmastime, I am into all things Christmas; decorations, music, Christmas movies – old and new, and all the rich delicious food and drink that come with it. This year, memories of my mom invade my thoughts every day as many of my fondest memories of her surround Christmas and New Year’s Day. Lately, every smell, song, craft, or holiday special reminds me of my mom.

This year, I committed to providing dessert for our Thanksgiving dinner. I don’t consider myself a baker, but I wanted to make something homemade. I settled on an egg nogg pound cake I saw on Pinterest.

While preparing my ingredients, I heard my mother saying, “Now, read through that recipe before starting.” Even though I read the recipe many times, I read it again. Sure enough, I saw something I didn’t see before: add eggs, one at a time…Thanks Mom. My cake turned out pretty and tasted wonderful. I wanted to call mom and tell her all about it. But I couldn’t. It’s a strange feeling when you want to share a conversation with someone, and you can’t.

A few weeks after Thanksgiving a friend asked me to make an apron for her to gift someone for Christmas. I agreed before I even thought about it. Before that day, I hadn’t sewn since my mother fell ill.

I was going to order the fabric online since I knew exactly what I needed; I could use curbside pick-up. But my inner crafter wanted to go inside the store. I decided to go to the store to get what I needed. Immediately, I saw the fabric my friend wanted. After getting my fabric cut, I looked at some patterns and notions, reminiscing on trips with my mother to Hancock Fabrics and JoAnn Fabrics when I was a little girl.

Returning home, I committed to completing the apron that day. Clearing out space, I laid the pattern on the fabric. As I began pinning the pattern, the background noise from the television became too much so I turned it off and played Christmas music. I took my time pinning the pattern to prepare to cut. As I got halfway through the project, Bill Doggett’s, I’ll Be Home for Christmas came on. It was a song from a Christmas album we listened to each year beginning on Thanksgiving, Charles Brown’s Please Come home for Christmas. I began to sing and smile remembering Mom in the kitchen singing. While sewing, I suddenly felt a closeness. “I feel you”, I said as I felt Mom next to me. Nothing ghostly or scary. I didn’t feel any heat or coolness people talk about neither did I smell her. I smiled.

As I sewed, I wished for her skill to be reflected in this apron. I heard her respond to my wish, Slow down and it will be. I laughed. Before long the apron was complete. I felt accomplished looking at the final product.

I am thankful for that time I spent with my mom doing something we both loved. I believe when our loved ones leave Earth, they are still cheering for us as we go through this journey called life.

As I grieve, I move through multiple layers of emotions including disbelief, sadness, joy, and hope.

Disbelief – It feels strange not to be able to call my mother to listen to her talk about everything and nothing. The loss doesn’t seem real yet.

Sadness – Sad I have to learn how to live without her.

Joy – I am happy for all the wonderful memories I have of my mother and my life as her daughter.

Hope – As a woman of faith, I am hopeful for the day I will see my mom again.