A year.

Tomorrow marks one year since my mom passed away. If she were still alive, she would never let me post this picture of her for the world to see, but to me, it holds all the beauty in the world. Losing your mom is like a gigantic punch in the gut (or a bit lower) - as a parallel to life, it takes your breath away. It is hard to breathe. It hurts, but you can hardly say anything. To me, the last year has brought me joy and sorrow. There are times where very strange things will bring my mom to the front of my mind, the front of my heart, even in my face. Sometimes those moments bring me sheer joy. Thinking of silly things like her laugh that would always warm my heart - even if it was the stupidest thing that her and Lizzy or the other aunties or club would get to tears on. Joy. And also sorrow. Hearing a voice that sounds similar to my mom's - and the sorrow that comes in that moment when the true reality of the fact that I will not hear her precious voice again. True sorrow. This photo reminds me of just how frail life is. We are here but for a moment. I am well pleased that I got to spend so many moments in this lifetime with my mom. From the time I had Rheumatic Fever, and she thought I was just trying to get out of school, but I literally couldn't walk. I will NEVER forget that morning when she pulled me up out of bed angry as all get up that she thought I was faking. Me falling to the floor as I had no control over my legs. And her weaping as she carried me into the doctor's office apologizing for not believing me. To every single game I played in high school where she sat in the stands - and shared afterwards the joys and the sorrows of winning and losing. To the time she took the day off work on my last day of high school - just to stand in the hallway and smile at my friends and I as we hooted and hollared in celebration of such a milestone. I had to go over to her - and honestly I was almost mad asking her 'what are you doing here?' - and she just smiled and said - I just wanted to be here. To the times she was so mad at me that she wouldn't even talk to me for days at a time (believe me, I deserved it) and times she called me out on stupid things I should not have been doing when no one else would - and I would be mad at her, but she knew what I needed to hear. To the times she would hold me and tell me that she was proud of me - the time she held my first child - the cards I would get in the mail for encouragement - the times she would take our kids so superstar and I could build our marriage - the time she paid me the first $5 I earned because I made a rule = that everytime she brought new clothes/toys over to our house for our girls she had to pay me $5 - and everytime after that she paid me the $5. The times I got to sit next to her while she got her keimo - the times I got to sit next to her in the living room while she slept - the times I got to serve her as she always served us growing up - the time I had to pull her pants up in the hall because she couldn't bend over to reach them. (Oh, she would kill me if she were here today for that one!) The times her voice calmed me. The times she rubbed my back as a child. The times she rubbed my girls' backs. As I reflect on the fact it has been a year - I am not sure why it seems longer than that to me. And at the same time, it seems like just yesterday. I wish one thing I could change is that I would have always honored my mom - I can't lie and say that I did. But I can tell you one thing. My love for her never stopped once in my lifetime. And tomorrow, a year after I watched her get escorted into heaven and take her last breath - again I say - one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen - I love her more than I ever have. I miss your voice. Your smile that is so evident in this photo of you. The joy I know those that were close to you see in this photo. That little smirk that always told those around you that the joy of God was in the room. I miss my girls shouting "GRANDMA" when they saw you, or you just stopped by to visit. I miss seeing you hold Dad's hand, watching the two of you dance the way that would bring a smile to a stranger's face. I miss the simple comfort of being in the same house as you. The same room. But as your other son reminded me this morning when he shared Revelation 21:4 about the New Heaven and the New Earth: ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’[b] or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” I look forward to that day. I know you have no more pain. I know you have no more tears. I expectantly await that day where I not only feel the comfort of being in the same place you are, but experience the full glory of our God. I miss you mom. I love you more than ever.