Monday, May 9, 2011
They buried her on Friday.
Her living children are 6, 4 and 2.
I didn't even know her, but I am devastated for her and her family.
A few nights ago I was just getting into bed. I was exhausted from sewing, cleaning, "mom"-ing. Just as I laid down my 2 year old started crying. I let her cry for a few minutes, hoping she'd just lull herself back to sleep. Then she cried out "I want my mommy!" And my heart broke, for another 2 year old who might wake up in the middle of the night, crying for his mommy, and she's not there.
She won't ever get to be there again.
I was no longer tired as I quickly rushed into her room, scooped her out of bed and held her close. I rocked her and sang to her and drank up every blessed moment of mothering I could.
I hope this is a lesson I don't soon forget. Life is a precious gift. One that I too often take for granted. Each day is an opportunity to express love to those who are most important to us. I am going to try to take advantage of one more day to make sure that if it's my last, there are no regrets, no unanswered questions about how I feel about my children and my role as their mother. That my spouse and extended family know how I treasure them and their influence in my life. That I have lived each moment, in the moment and drank every last bit of joy and happiness that I could.
So that I won't ever forget.
So that I will have lived.
And enjoyed my life while I was living it.
"I went into the woods because I wish to live deliberately. To front only the essential facts of life and see if I could not learn what they had to teach. And not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."
Henry David Thoreau
Today, I am going to live.