“Mom?” whispers the little voice in bed next to me who is trying to fall asleep. “I miss Grandma Debby,” he says as he begins to cry in my arms.
I hug him ever so tight as we both cry. I attempt to ease the pain by telling him how much she loved him. I reminisce about how fun she was – a simply wonderful grandma. He cried and nodded. I asked if he wanted to hug while we fell asleep. He nodded again. He dried his eyes with a tissue and snuggled in close. It only took two songs into his bedtime music and he was asleep.
But the hard moment comes now when I am left thinking about my mom. It’s a painful happiness to think about how wonderful she was. On one side it is so joyous to remember her and feel her humor and love. On the other side it brings back a flood of memories. Of hospital rooms. Of late night texts. Of the loss.
I don’t think I’ll ever be able to feel the happiness without also feeling the pain.
And I think about my little guy. Does he think about her often? Does he worry about me? How does his little mind comprehend all the events that have come to pass? How does his heart feel when he’s sad like this?
And now he’s getting sweaty against my chest and arms. I rearrange and set him next to me. I grab his little hand and just hold it and look at him. I wonder how many times my mom did that to me.
She really was wonderful. It may always be painful to remember my mom, but worth it every time.