Today marks the third anniversary of my mom’s death. I know that absence makes the heart grow fonder and that there is a tendency to elevate the dead beyond what their living years deserve, but my mom was pretty wonderful. One thing I have been thinking about was her amazing ability to love. Yes, she was funny, adventurous, zany, energetic, and talented, but what made everyone feel like my mom’s dear friend was that she loved so well.
The five love languages? My mom was fluent in all five.
Time? Yep. She would sit down and listen and also she invited us into the things she was doing so that we could be together.
Gifts? Not crazy extravagant ones, but my mom took great pleasure in finding things that reminded her of her friends and family so she could have a “sussy” for the next time they saw one another. Mom’s gifts were always so thoughtful.
Service? Since a couple of friends are pregnant, Konika and I were talking about the help we received when we had our babies. Oh, man. My mom did so many wonderful things for us—meals, laundry, finding the newest Caire absolutely beautiful, cleaning, errand running.
Touch? Now I’m crying, but she gave really nice hugs.
Encouraging words? Mom wrote me a letter every week while I was in college. Every week. Her words and the sincere belief behind them had a Pygmalion effect, making us into better wives, daughters, moms, friends, husbands, sons, and fathers.
I write this blog not for sympathy, because feel I nothing but gratitude for having had such a mom. I write because a person like my mom deserves honor and remembrance and I write because we all need a push to splash some love like a sweet perfume on those around us. A gentle compelling plea to try an expression of love you don’t normally employ and bless someone.