My mom’s nightgown is still hanging over the end of my bed. I brought it home in June because it popped a seam.. and I promised to fix it because it is her favorite nightgown.

I still have an open shopping list on my phone… things I was going to pick up for her.. including some photos she asked for..

The magazine clipping she cut out for me.. because she thought I would like it.. hangs on my refrigerator…

The blue flower shirt in my closet that she always asked to borrow…

In the garage sits the couch attachment I bought so that my mom could stand up from my couch ..

And then there is the voice mail she left.. that I can’t delete…

Every where I look … there are reminders of her.

It always seems like she is just in the other room… like she will call in another moment.

When I visit my dad.. her tea cups still sit on the counter..

… and it hits me … never again in my Earthly days will I make my mom another cup of chai.

Never again will I joke with her .. asking her if she would like some coffee…

… never again will she stick her tongue out at me and call me a brat…

That is.. not until I see her again in heaven.

But…

… I will also never again see her in pain.. or watch her struggle to walk with a walker.. or see her frustrated because she wants out of her wheelchair.

I will never again see her suffer.

But what I will see?

I will see my mom’s smile when I look into her grandkids’ faces.

I will remember my mom’s happiness whenever I find photos of her on my phone. (And believe me.. I have a “few”..)

I will see my mom in the gatherings we have.. in the circle of chairs around the campfire…

I’ll see her in the sewing lessons I give… in the way I teach family recipes …

I’ll see my mom in every blue car I pass… every bird I see… every butterfly that flits by…

… in every chai I drink..

Today as I carefully stitch my mom’s nightgown…

… because I promised her I would…

… a tear falls for every blessed memory I have that has her in it…

… and I have too many blessings to count.

I am reminded of A.A. Milne’s piece of wisdom.

“How lucky am I to have something that makes saying Good-bye so hard…”

How lucky am I to have so many blessed memories with the woman I called “Mom”.

Even if those memories each bring a tear today… I wouldn’t trade a single memory.

This nightgown may be pretty wet by the time I finish mending it…

… but what a blessed girl I am.