by Mark MacDonald
September 13, 2014
29 years ago today, I lost my Mother to a brain aneurism. I was 10-days-old. Her death was sudden and tragic, robbing our family of years of hugs, kisses, laughter and love. She didn’t get to see my first steps, hear my first words or watch me grow to be 6'8". She didn’t see me go to prom, graduate from college or sign my first pro contract. She won’t get to meet my future Wife, dance with me at my wedding or spoil any of her grandchildren.
I didn’t get to have my Mother console me when I scraped my chin or let me cry on her shoulder when I went through my first break-up. She wasn’t there to help me with homework or share her love of literature. I’ve never been able to make her laugh or surprise her with a thoughtful note. I don’t know what she feels like. I don’t know what she smells like. I can’t begin to imagine her different types of smiles.
I’ve heard her voice only once, while watching an old home movie. My emotions were just too much to process. I acted as if I’d heard it a million times.
Even though I’ve never had a conversation with my Mother, I am so eternally grateful for all she has taught me:
She’s taught me that there are people out there with so much love in their hearts they will make room for you no matter what.
She’s taught me that when people pass on they stay with you, guiding you on the right path, but that it’s up to you to follow their lead.
She’s taught me that no matter what has happened to you there are people who are worse off, and it will make you feel better by helping them.
She’s taught me that the hardest conversations to have are usually the most important.
She’s taught me you can miss someone without even knowing them.
She’s taught me I would have been a Momma’s Boy. (No offense, Dad.)
She’s taught me that Mother’s Day is really tough when your Mom isn’t with you.
She’s taught me that parents pass things onto their children even if they are never there with them.
She’s taught me there is an unspoken bond between people who have lost a parent at a young age.
She’s taught me that if you always consider yourself lucky then you’ll always be lucky.
She’s taught me that tremendous loss is an excuse to become stronger.
She’s taught me that every time you grieve you grieve for everyone you have lost.
She’s taught me that you should go out of your way to be considerate of people because you never know what battle they are fighting that day.
She’s taught me the way to get through pain is to confront it, understand it and be at peace with it. That’s the only way to move on.
She’s taught me there is nothing more powerful than purpose. Purpose is enough to keep someone moving no matter what has happened to them or what may lie ahead.
She’s taught me the more I learn, the less I know.
She’s taught me a man can be both a Father and a Mother to his child.
She’s taught me there are people out there who will do everything in their power to keep a promise they made to their Partner.
She’s taught me no matter how many people care for you, support you and love you, a Mother’s love is truly irreplaceable.
She’s taught me no matter where I go, she’s always there, filling my heart, easing my mind and pushing me forward.
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