Monday, December 24, 2007

Thinking of Mom on Christmas Eve


I'm remembering my mother in an unusual way today. I'm watching "Journey to the Center of the Earth," starring her little crush, Pat Boone. I remember us watching that movie together many years ago -- a rare intersection of my interests (sci-fi, such as "Journey" is) and hers (the aforementioned vanilla crooner). Funny ... I forgot that they did their best to make it into a musical. He's singing "my love is like a red, red rose" as I type this. I also forgot how much of the movie he spent with his shirt off. No wonder she enjoyed it so much.

Anyway, it's odd to think that mom's been gone for six ... nearly seven years. Hard to get my mind around the fact that she's never met and will never meet my boys on Earth, though Cheryl and I like to imagine that she's up in heaven shouting "They're ad-VANCED!!!" I miss mom, though in some ways her leaving was just what our relationship needed.

I wish I had a better memory sometimes. I'd remember more of the bad stuff, sure, but I'd have clearer pictures of Christmases past, at my grandparents' house, everyone together in clouds of smoke. It got tough toward the end, but when I was a kid, I have faded recall of nights spent in log cabins and houseboats. Such cool homes. They didn't have the warmth of love in the way I've come to experience it, though I don't recall feeling less than loved. But they had a certain richness. Our family wasn't large in numbers, but the room felt full of history, of stories, of dreams ....

I want me kids to have all of that, minus the smoke, plus the warmth. I think they're getting it. I wish Mom could be here for it, even though I know that her presence was never uncomplicated. I may forget a lot, but I can't forget that.


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