Mother’s Day is difficult, and has been for the last ten years. I lost my Mom to ALS in 2009. She’s no longer here to thank and to spoil every second Sunday in May.

Truth be told, I would probably put a card in the mail and call her. Unless she made the effort to come to town, we probably wouldn’t be together for Mother’s Day.

Memories become rosy over time. We tend to gloss over our short comings and remember the good more often than the not-so-good. It’s human nature and there’s nothing wrong with that. It helps to keep memories light in our hearts and any guilty feelings at bay.

I am lucky to be able to say that I had a great Mom. She loved me like no one else could  – she was my biggest cheerleader, especially when I couldn’t be.  Every morning of my teenage years my day started with a drowsy hug.  Bleary-eyed, I would stumble to the kitchen and plop my head on her shoulder.  She did the hugging.

We spoke regularly on the phone after I moved out of my childhood home and into adulthood.  I can say we visited often, but I know that was because she came to me. I didn’t travel to her as often as I could have – until she was facing her illness. I regret that now but there’s no way to change the past.  I’ve had almost ten years to adapt to the loss of her in my life, to reflect on the lessons she taught me. Some times a death is what forces us to grow.

If I could sit with her one more time, I would thank her for teaching me that everything happens for a reason, especially when the reason isn’t obvious.

I would thank her for teaching me to stop and appreciate the little things – Canada Geese high in the sky in the spring. The first Morning Glory blossom on the neighbour’s trellis. The magic of a Hummingbird.

I would thank her for modelling appreciation and gratitude. It was there my whole life, but I only truly understood the power of it at the end of her life. She didn’t just say look on the bright side to cheer me up when times were tough. She truly believed that every situation had a silver lining.

Mom, where ever your soul is now, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. So many lessons have taken hold these last ten years. I’m sorry I didn’t learn them while we could share them.  I wish you were here.