Grandma

On Sunday it will have been a year and a half since my mom died. It has not gotten any easier, and I'm not sure whether people who still have their mothers around realize how lucky they are. This past year has been very hard for me. Don't get me wrong, it has been amazing and wonderful in so many, many ways. But in each milestone reached, in every event celebrated, in each hardship overcome, there has been a nagging sense of loss.

I often question whether I'm a good enough mother. There are so many days when I barely have the energy to make breakfast, let alone plan interesting and fun activities for my children. I sometimes have to take a break from visiting other people's blogs because I feel so inferior. And of course I realize that blogs are intended to celebrate children's accomplishments and document the good times, and that most people would choose not to air their dirty laundry in a place so public as the internet. But still, when hear so many happy things going on in the lives of other people (especially in stories relating to grandmas) it sometimes makes me feel incredibly lonely.

I guess I'm putting myself out there because I want to let anyone else who struggles with these kinds of feelings that they're not alone. I feel like there is such immense social pressure on mothers to always be perfect, and that just hasn't been the reality of parenthood (at least for me).

Before my mom died, I spent many hours visiting with her in the hospital. I asked her tons of questions about her life, and wrote down her answers (though sometimes I think she just made stuff up so that I would stop bothering her). I went through all of her old photo albums, made copies of the pictures, and compiled all of the information into a memory book of her life. It was catharsis for me, and I knew that this would be the only way I could introduce my children to their grandma. Just before she died, I asked my mom what she wanted her grandchildren to know about her. She told me to "just make sure they know I love them very much".

When my mom died, a family friend who is a jeweler had necklaces made for each of us. The pendant is a copy of my mother's actual thumb print, so that she can always be with us. When the kids first came home, I stopped wearing the necklace for fear that the twins would pull it off of my neck. Just recently I began wearing it again, and the twins took immediate interest in it. I explained to them that it is grandma's thumb print. Now whenever I'm holding one of the twins, they reach up, grab the necklace, say "grandma" and kiss her thumb print.

Today I brought out the memory book to show the kids. They immediately recognized grandma (they've seen pictures of her before) and sat attentively while we paged through the entire book. They especially enjoyed pointing out the people they knew, and seeing baby pictures of Grandma, Mama, and Nay Nay.

I'm glad that Isabel and Elijah have this book to keep her memory alive, but I'm sad that they won't get to experience her warmth, kindness, and love firsthand. She would have been an incredible grandma.