Patch Blog: My First 'Love Letter' to My Late Mom for Thanksgiving

Life's events and experiences are like the weather--they come and go, no matter what my preference is. With our most saddened hearts, my mom/grandma passed away suddenly on September 25, 2011 due to a drastic stroke. It's like I've lost a part of my soul and miss her so much in this Thanksgiving season.

In ancient China, the mourning period was seven years. However, mourning rituals in this modern era lasts seven cycles of seven days each, totaling forty-nine days for family members to pay respect to the deceased. I wish it was as simple as turning a switch off "grieving."

Dearest Mom,

You have taught me many things in life that have shaped and molded me into the person I am today: wisdom, family values, how important it is to treat everyone with common courtesy, and most importantly the grace and aplomb to survive through the toughest situations. But now that you are gone, I wished you had taught me how to say goodbye to the ones you love so dearly.

How do you say goodbye to someone like you? An amazing and incredible woman who was the pillar of our family, raising three wonderful children and six absolutely beautiful grandchildren.

People often say that raising children is one of the most rewarding yet also the most difficult challenges of life (Especially since children never seem to come with an instruction manual on how to be a parent). But I was lucky--I had you, the expert, 24-7.

Because of you, my four children, and Paul and Joe’s children have all grown up in the most nurturing and blessed environment a child could ask for. Every triumph and success of your grandchildren is a tribute to the great love that you shared endlessly with them.

You often mentioned to me that “time is measured for everyone. Everybody has the same amount of time--whether you are a pauper or a king. It is not about how much time you have but how meaningful you use the time you are given.”

Dear Mom, today I want to let you know how I have come to measure time--an amalgamation of ideas inspired by your words, a dear friend, and one of my favorite songs, “Seasons of Love” from the musical Rent.  I know you may be unfamiliar with the lyrics of the song so let me share with you some of the lyrics:

525,600 minutes

525,000 moments so dear.

525,600 minutes

How do you measure, measure a year?

In daylights, in sunsets

In midnights, in cups of coffee

In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.

In 525,600 minutes

How do you measure, a year in the life?

How about love?

How about love? 

How about love? 

Measure in love. 

Seasons of love.

Those who hold the titles of “mom” and “grandmother” will measure the years of our children and grandchildren spent under our wing through the seasons of love. Mother, how I measured the many years I was grateful enough to have you is without a doubt measured in love.

Love Always,

Vivian

Memories.  My memories of my mother are filled with warmth and love. She was a wonderful mother and grandmother that loved her children and grandchildren unconditionally. If you have ever met her, then you already know how genuine sincerity radiated from her eyes every time she saw you. 

When I walked into the house, I knew I could always count on her warm smile.  She would greet me with a gentle, “How was your day? Have you eaten today?”  She always seemed to remember my bad habit of forgetting to eat and skipping meals once I got busy and would already have a steaming bowl of hot soup ready to be ladled and savored. 

She always reminded me that I needed to take good care of myself first so that I would have the energy to take care of others. She would always notice if I looked tired and showed her love by holding my hands and gently patting them. She would tell me that I needed to take it easy and everything would be okay.

My favorite part of the day is when she started telling me about every little nuance of her grandchildren's day…the good, the bad, and sometimes even the ugly. 

All of these small gestures meant a world of difference to me, showing me how much she cared. These words do not do her justice, but I’m comforted by how my memories hopefully will. When I think of my mom, I think about what made her who she was. Her personality had a quiet radiance that drew people to her. Her eyes were always filled with a comforting presence that quieted the greatest storms that raged within. She was like that one place, that favorite quiet place in every house where you could escape whatever trials you faced and be with peace within her love.

Comfort.  It may seem strange to describe a person that way, but just seeing her always brought me a sense of calmness. I knew that whenever I saw her, I could always count on her warm smile, her concern for me, whether I was depressed, stressed or sick. Her happiness was seeing me and the people that she loved happy. Her wisdom and guidance always made my world seem that much better. Her firm belief to care for others is a constant reminder that has been my rock and the cornerstone of my philosophy.

Love.  Is there a way to measure love? Can love be measured in inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife? Perhaps there is. But I stand before you today, here, in celebration of someone I shall never forget. I stand here, before you, in firm confidence that if love can be measured, the love my mom showed me during our time together is measureless.

I discovered that the more I look back, and try to count the ways that she showed her love to me, the harder it is for me to count those individual moments. It was in the big picture, the entirety and sum of her life and the emotions I felt, that I found love.

She was love.  For that I am forever thankful, that such a person was my mom and so blessed my life.  The opportunity to measure your life in the only true currency of the world, is love.

A friend told me: Our loved ones never truly leave us...

They live on in the kindness they showed, the comfort they shared, and the love they brought into our lives.