I was procrastinating my run today and Josh got me out the door with that quote. I started strong and motivated. I set my goal at 4 miles. After huffing and puffing through mile one I felt great & increased my goal to 5 miles; over ambitious to say the least.
The run back got really tough. By mile 4 I started to get achy. I wanted to quit. I started to talk to myself and I finally found myself saying, come on mom help me out. Nothing. Willie Nelson was playing, Always On My Mind. That song always reminds me of my mom. I started thinking about Elizabeth and our talk Sunday night in bed. She shared with me how it sounded weird but she always used to talk to Grammy Corkins, especially when she was scared. She always used to feel her around. But lately she said she couldn’t visualize her or feel her anymore. I felt myself profoundly sad when she told me that. One of my biggest fears has always been my girls forgetting my parents. Both of my parents loved them in ways that I never wanted them to forget. They were lucky and got the best of both of my parents.
But the truth was I couldn’t say a word when Elizabeth told me she didn’t feel my mom anymore. The truth was that I hadn’t felt her either. I hadn’t felt her in a really long time. Until today’s run.
So today, out of desperation I called out to her in my mind & under my breathe. Come on mom. Where are you? Help me. And suddenly I realized she wasn’t “out there” anymore. Elizabeth was right. I suddenly remembered a rare moment I had with her in her kitchen before she died.
I was putting off opening my store at the mall because she was so sick. I kept telling her excuses why I couldn’t so she didn’t feel bad that the real reason was her sickness.
“You have to get that store opened Darcey Ann Marie”, she scolded me in the kitchen as I stood in the doorway to leave.
“Mom. I still have to buy the shelving and it’s really expensive. Don’t worry.” The shelving was my latest excuse.
She went in her room and told me to wait a minute. When she came back out she had something in her hand. She came over to me to hug me goodbye and she slipped me a 100 dollar bill. I was shocked.
“Mom. What are you doing? I don’t need this.”
“It’s for your shelves. Buy your shelves. Open your store. I will be fine.”
I will never forget the moment. It wasn’t about the money. It wasn’t about opening the store or our disagreements. I instantly started crying and I said what was really in my heart. “Mom. What will I ever do without you? Who will ever care if I open my store? Who will ever love me like you do?”
She took my hand tightly in hers and put it on my chest & said, “I will always be right here.”
Tonight, I will tell Elizabeth we both need to look inside from now on for Grammy Corkins. The goodness we found in her and her life are deep inside us if we simply choose to dig deep & look. Thanks for the reminder today, mom.