#10 Remembering Someone You Love

This is a picture of my mom and dad.

I found this picture while I was finishing cleaning the basement today. It took many more days than I had planned, mostly because as I stumbled across little bits of my what used to be my mom, I caught my breath a little... and took a moment to remember her.

I used to be really angry with my mom. As I picked up the aftermath of what she left behind, I used to have conversations with her in my head. Why couldn't you have been responsible? Why couldn't you have been a better person? A better mother?

I stayed angry for a long time. When I ran, I thought about her. My anger fueled me to run faster, further, longer, harder. I thought about her mistakes when I scrubbed the tub. Organized the garage. Prayed. Listened. Slept.

I left the last of her things in boxes in my office and basement, refusing to look at them for two years. I finally brushed a layer of dust off the first box five days ago. I had begun my entire overhaul of the Hannah House, and I knew as I was clearing space in our home, that I had to clear space inside of my heart, too.

I threw a lot of it away, but I kept pictures, her journal, and grocery lists just so I could see her handwriting... to prove that she once was here. I kept her collection of angels. I found a small, knitted angel nestled between her clothes and set it on my bookshelf. Today, as I was cleaning the basement, I found the matching angel she had given me nestled between my clothes.

And then, just like that, I decided I wasn't angry anymore.

I don't know how that happened. Or why. I've been trying years to stop being angry. But something just clicked today. And I got over it. I spent the rest of the afternoon fondly remembering her smile through old pictures; her generosity by the size of the list of presents she planned to buy for Christmas; her life through the memories her friends pooled together for her memorial.

My gratitude today comes from a place deep within my heart. I'm grateful that I can really love my mom for what she was instead of I wanted her to be. I'm grateful that there's a space in my heart that can be filled with new love instead of anger. I'm grateful that I can tell my children about her with fondness.