Love For Her Family

On that sunny morning as I sipped coffee and watched yellow daffodils in the back yard, tossing their heads in sprightly dance, my thoughts were not on life bursting forth on that spring day, but on death. A year had passed since cancer ended my mother’s life. While gazing at pictures of her on the breakfast table, a quote came to mind: “Little things make big things happen.” Once when I asked Dad, a college English teacher, why the quote was taped to his laptop, he explained that it reminded him to teach grammar’s fundamentals thoroughly with the aim of achieving clear, effective composition — the “big thing.”

Then I realized why the saying popped into my mind. Constantly, Mom did little things that contributed to what for her was the biggest thing: love for her family. Following are a few “little things” I miss most. Despite excruciating pain, Mom called daily to check on her grandson Hollis and me. When I sent pictures of him, her delighted responses magnified how thrilled she was by his perfect beauty, his steady weight gain, and contented smile that she and Dad agreed was my baby smile. Even though giving birth to Hollis was the most difficult ordeal of my life, I will never forget how happy I was to see my parents holding him just minutes after he entered this world. I miss how Mom often confused the names of my two sisters and me. She might address Olivia as Heidi, Heidi as Olivia, and Annie as Heidi. The three of us would glance at each other, roll our eyes, and giggle. We accepted the incorrect names because that was just one of the many ways she could make us laugh. I miss Mom’s deep, abiding love for animals. How happy she would be if she were beside me now, watching a group of cardinals, our favorite bird, feasting on the fresh supply of sunflower seeds in their feeder. Although Mom never tired of painting, and taught countless schoolchildren how to daub colors on canvas, she loved other art forms as well. I miss how she closed her eyes while listening to Italian singer and songwriter Andrea Bocelli, not trying to stop the tears, and experiencing the peace that only true art lovers can experience. I miss how she responded when I complimented something that she bought for herself, especially earrings. No sooner were the words out of my mouth than she would remove them, attached them to my ears, and say, “Wow — they are even more beautiful on you!” I miss so much about Mom, especially things like her voice, her smile, her smell, her touch, and the way she walked. Even though the list is endless, the many reasons that my love for that dear sweet lady will never diminish can be grouped into one gift that set her apart. Without fail, she always made the little things add up to the biggest thing in her life: love for her family.