Sometimes I really hate the calendar. Today is definitely one of those days. It’s been three years since my mother died. Knowing it was coming, I busied myself with various tasks and distractions but somehow the calendar has managed to scream louder, pushing itself to the forefront. Time has helped and the pain from the shock of loss did subside. Yet, a different sort of discomfort has moved in and set up. It’s like not being able to take a truly deep emotional breath. Mamma understood this discomfort all too well and she tried to explain it to me. It’s funny how we don’t really listen to understand when we can’t imagine a need for what another person is trying to share. I really wish I’d tried harder. In fact, there’s so much I needed and wanted to hear and say. I’d imagine most folks experiencing grief feel that way.

I was 17 when my brother, David, died in a car accident. I dealt with his loss so much better than my mom’s. I’m sure there are all sorts of reasons for this but I’d guess that among them was my age at the time. My son is now 17 and seems to have a wonderful perspective on his grief. Jackson, the real writer in the family, captured his thoughts about today in his post, Three Years. I must admit that his story makes me smile, too.

So today will be about finding reasons to smile. My mother’s personality was larger than life so with small efforts I can see her everywhere —  the 150 towels she monogrammed all over our house, her mother’s dishes I display on my walls, her dining room furniture, the spoons from all over the world she wanted me to collect when she sent me traveling the world, the pictures, her jewelry and clothes, her scent (I’ll always keep a bottle of Chanel No. 5 close by), my children, my family, me and all of the habits I picked up from her. While she is not here, she really is everywhere.

And that makes me smile today.