My intention was not to dislike March, but it happened. One week and one day after I turned sixteen, my mother died. Year after year, I was reminded of that major loss and decided to blame it on March. In particular, I dreaded March 8th, and I was convinced it was a day on which nothing good would ever happen.
Not a year since that fateful day in 1973 have I forgotten my mother’s passing. The one year mark seemed like an eternity. Then years piled onto years and I would be astounded by the large gap in time that I had spent living without her. Now, I am two years shy of the age she was when she died. It makes me so sad for all this passed time I have not had her in my life.
However, I haven’t missed my mother enough. By that I mean that I have tended to over emphasize the things she did wrong and pushed aside the reasons I loved her so much. It has been easier to grieve for my cute little old man father, who never raised a hand to us kids, and who had such a sweet gentle spirit.
My mother did too, but I have chosen to fault-find and nit-pick. That has not been fair to her. Just the other night, I was reminded of her when reading a magazine. My emotions swirled, and I was able to fully deal with the fact that I missed her. No more stuffing it down and denying my feelings. I was bereft without my mom.
So much has been missed without her in my life: my children never got to know her. I did not get to know her either, as an adult. She did not see me graduate high school, college, get married, see her grandbabies grow up. I will never be able to ask her why she did some things that bent my spirit. It was hurtful, but it was really only a small part of the overall goodness my mother had.
And as for March, I have made my peace with this month. Last year my daughter finally received a long awaited job offer on March 8th. A good thing happened! March has leprechauns and spring, sometimes even an early Easter. Flowers begin to bloom and buds appear on shrubs and trees. And, I have to believe that on this month, long ago, my mother’s spirit became reborn in afterlife with a loving God.
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