People say time will make it better-and maybe it did for them but it hasn't for me. I've just gotten better at handling the pain. You know what? That's ok. Missing someone, tears-that's all a part of life. Kinda like pushing through Walmart with all the hundreds of Mother's Day cards shoved all in your face. Sooner or later you're going to see one so stupid or incredibly tacky it will make you smile. There's beauty in everything. Those ugly tears my sisters cry-they make me wince for their pain but it makes me feel a little less alone. In a way, I'm glad we cry-not all mothers were like ours. Giving birth, doesn't sign you up for a life time of loving, caring, and sharing. It doesn't automatically mean that you'll make birthday cakes or spend countless hours trying to make someone else happy. I wonder if my siblings remember the joy of picking out their favorite kool aide to go with dinner. I haven't thought about grape kool aide in a long time.
I remember her telling me how to measure the sugar-later I'd measure sugar to put in jelly or jam.
Her voice comes back to me telling me to make sure to premeasure the sugar, to add it quickly to help the jelly set up. Add a teaspoon of butter to keep the foaming down. That first batch of jam without her was rough. A lot of firsts are. This year I made "Rose Petal Jelly"-something she and I never did, but I think she'd like it. It set up fine and it really does smell like roses.
Roses like the ones she used to baby. Like the ones that Beth carried.
Roses like the ones that the grand kids carried after her funeral.
Roses like the ones tattooed on her grand daughters.
Roses are so beautiful and fragrant, but they can cause a little pain kinda like a memory.
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