I was certainly not ready for Father’s Day this year. I thought it was on the 20th, which does not make sense, I promise I saw it written somewhere! By the time I realized that it was upon us already, City Center and Villagio were now shut down (due to the awful Fire tragedy) and Landmark was just a nightmare between parking and shoppers. I did not make it to buying anything, until the day of, knowing I could get in before the masses arrived…. With a bit of prompting the kids made cards, while in the morning I dashed downstairs and made Steve a cooked breakfast – he was surprised and loved the gesture, thank goodness. Dinner was a similar affair, with a beautifully laid table, fabulous food, dessert and company. It is the first year I feel like a really awful Mother/Wife for being so slack!!

Father’s Day is also Steve’s Dads Birthday. It is a day of remembrance and reflection for him.  It is a day of mixed emotions.  It is now the first Father’s Day that my Dad has had to spend alone, the first “big” occasion. The world came crashing down for me during the day. The realization still fresh in our minds and the little things that Mom used to do that made her Mom.

Mom was never a big gesture person, she was subtle and quietly so.  She would make the most amazing celebratory meals, roast chicken, lamb, pork; crisped potatoes, vegetables and gravies to make your mouth water. Her cakes were equally delicious and we never finished a meal without feeling over eaten and wanting more as leftovers for later. Dad is still devastated and I never leave a phone conversation with him dry eyed, Father’s Day was no exception. This call however was even more heart wrenching, knowing that although there would be no presents or cards – something they stopped years ago – Mom would have cooked Dad the most amazing meal to celebrate, she would have put her arms around her husband of 54 years and held him close, telling him how much she loved him and what a wonderful father he was.
She did for all occasions.
The. Little. Things.

It is these little things that I miss the most and Father’s Day brought them smack bang back into reality for me.  

There are other recollections, I remember hearing Jessica chatting away in her bedroom the one day, confused at the lack of friends in the room, I was concerned that my daughter was one step closer to insanity. I peeked into the room and there she was lying on her bed having an animated conversation with her i-Pod, now I was more anxious about the insanity. I went and lay next to her, and looking up into the screen there was my Mom having the most wonderful special time with her Grand-daughter. Something I found out that the two of them had been doing since she received her i-Pod for Christmas. Jess misses these chats and often sheds a tear when she realizes she can no longer just chat to Granny. My heart is torn apart.
The. Little. Things.

It has been a month today, I cannot believe that an entire month has gone past, it still feels like yesterday.  I am certainly not someone that is morbid and mourns for a long time, rather I reflect on a life well lived, on the happy times and the positive influences that were bestowed upon us.  I have not lost a lot of loved ones in my life, eight in total – Grandparents, in-laws, a really good friend at an early age and my Mom.
My Mom has been the hardest….

Sean has grieved in his own way and tonight at dinner he told us that the night Mom passed away, he sat up in bed in a sweat and he did not understand why. He was upset without realizing that today was a month. Tears clouded my eyes and he came around the table to just hold me. Tucking him into bed he asked if I was ok, my son asked ME if I was ok? I love him so much.
The. Little. Things.

My heart has an aching hollow in it today. I have spoken openly about my feelings to a few close friends without breaking down and yet today just feels that little bit harder. Perhaps it is because it is the 19th, one month. Perhaps it is the knowledge of flying home and knowing that the house will feel empty without her presence, how she would have just done what Mom’s do best with a welcoming committee of hugs and kisses, and an all encompassing love that only a mother knows how to give.
The. Little. Things.

Perhaps it is just part of the grief. What I am sure of is, how much I miss her.  Our chats. Her laugh. Her inquisitive mind. Her memory. Her knowledge. Her efficiency. Her patience.  Her strength. Her resilience. Her green fingers. Her willingness to learn. Her pleasure in her grandchildren. Her washing your glass before you could do it. Her love of cooking. Her love for her husband, children, grandchildren, sisters, family and friends. Her love for her home. Her smile. Her spunk. Her smell. HER.
The. Little. Things.

One of our last conversations was around what the happiest day of her life was, her answer: “The day I married your father.” It made me smile.
The Little Things are what make us human, just one small gesture can make the world of difference, of memories, of love.

I love you Mom and miss you every day….