I have been motherless longer than I have been a mother.
This thought occurred to me today.
Mother's Day is always a delicate dance of my heart bursting with ridiculous joy from carefully crafted gifts by my children, and my heart longing for one more.
One more day.
One more hour.
One more conversation.
One more laugh.
I'm left wondering, had she never gotten ill and died, what our relationship would have grown into over the last 13+ years. She would be 80. I am shy of 43, three kids deep and almost 18 years into marriage. What would our conversations be?
Would it look anything like I have imagined it would?
I am grateful I have a handful of people who share this dance floor with me.
This post is for them.