Three years ago today I lost my mom. I still sometimes have trouble believing it really happened. It doesn't feel right. A big mistake. I feel like there must be someone I can convince that they got it wrong and then she'll be back.
But logic knows better than that. It did happen. Right or not, my mom is gone.
What is not gone are the values she instilled in me. She taught me what in life is important. And above all else comes family. She taught me to love and respect family. To hold them close. To hold them tight. That no matter distance or time, family is, and always will be the one true constant. Family is her legacy.
So I find it fitting that today, three years after I lost her, I get to honor the most important thing she ever taught me. I get to start passing this lesson down to my kids. How lucky they are to get to know my grandparents. How lucky I am to see the love between these generations.
On the day I have come to dread, I watched my Poppi's eyes light up as his great grandson dissolved into fits of giggles. I watched my son play trucks with his great grandmother. I am so lucky that my mom passed this lesson in love down to me.
My mom may not be here, but today I feel closer to her than I have in a long time.