permeating vibrance

I've been thinking about what it means to still be missing my mother after 11 years since she passed away. I think of her in my everyday life, and sometimes I still cry because it still hurts. I miss her. Some people might think this is unhealthy. Others might even be disturbed by the sentiments—thinking it ridiculous. But neither of these reactions are the truth about what I feel.

Our lives were not easy. Insecurity was a common theme throughout all the life I can remember with her. Money, family, intentions, loyalties, self worth—so many aspects of life were permeated with insecurity because of rejection, lies, problems, and simple human nature. As I look back on it all, I am astounded by her strength of spirit that made it possible to overcome the difficult times. 

Through everything, my mother had a song in her heart. She knew that somehow everything would all work out. She relied on her faith in God and her love of music. She would play her piano, turn on her highbrow music, or literally sing a song. She pulled us all out of the mire of life with that music she had within and about her. 

Today, I reflect on how she taught me to succeed. She showed me how to love even when it feels impossible. She exemplified what it means to be forgiving. She gave her life to her family and friends. If I had to choose one word to describe her, it would be vibrant.

And now I ask, who wouldn't miss—every single day of their life—someone who brought music and vibrance to a dark world?  

She was and is a beloved part of my life. I realize more each day how much I am like her, and it comforts my broken heart to see how she affects me still, because her loving spirit lives on. Someday we will enjoy another loving embrace. 

Until then, I will go on listening for her in the faith and music that she instilled in me. I will not be ashamed that I still miss someone so dear, nor will I regret even one tear shed. In all her imperfection she was so wonderful.