April 27th is the day we lost my mom. In the wee hours of the morning two years ago she passed on while my oldest brother held her hand.
It still seems wrong that she isn't here anymore. I can still hear her voice, especially that tone she'd use when she left a message and I hadn't talked to her for a week or so. "Dodi, it's mom. I need you to call when you get this message."
She'd call when the baby birds in the birdhouse hatched, and the girls needed to come over to see them.
She'd call when she spotted an obituary for someone they knew years ago, someone I didn't know:
"Honey, I hate to tell you this, but Mrs. So&So passed away."
"Mom I don't know who that is." (At which point I'm sure I rolled my eyes.)
"Sure you do, she was a neighbor of ours when we first got married, they came out to the house here for dinner when you were about 5. Remember, she had that straw hat?" (This conversation would continue until I said something about remembering her, which I almost never did.)
She'd call when a product she knew I used was on sale.
She called when the neighbors left their sprinklers on too long.
She'd call mostly to check on her girls - all three of us. Because even when I was up to my eyeballs in laundry or stress and emotion, or general "too busy"ness, and she'd let me know she was there. Always there. Even when I was mad at her or she was mad at me... she was always there.
And then she wasn't there anymore.
And I still can't imagine a world without her - even though that is the world that I live in.
Mom... I love you, and I miss you!