So here is that idea of loss coming up again, but this time I want to focus on the loss that impacted me the most. As seen in the title that loss would be the loss of my mother at the age of twelve. I believe I lost her too soon, and in that same motion believed I lost her too late. Sounds strange when you say it, and honestly when the thought first flashed across my membrane I gave a little “huh?”. When I look back though I understand how that makes sense for me, because I understand we don’t all think the same.

I would like to start with the idea of too late and how it pertains to me, and the reason for that is because the idea dates too soon. To simply put the thought of too late comes to mind because I got to know who my mother was. She raised me into the fine twelve year boy I was, with all the knowledge of life she had to share with me to help me grow into a fine adult. Those lessons stick with me to this day because she instilled them into me as a loving parent should. 

Let’s look at it like this if I never got the chance to know her because her untimely death would have taken place when I was a baby before I could form a thought to remember. So taking that into note whoever would have raised me after that I would know that person to be my mother. 

That wasn’t the case though I got to know her, and learned what unconditional love really feels like. I got knowledge about life and how to be brave in the face of adversity. So many lessons I am not going to go into today, but I know who my mother is and how strong she was. That I will never forget, because she put her heart into teaching me these things for those twelve years she was in my life.

It was too soon for her to go though, because I was left incomplete, unfinished of her wisdom and knowledge. That wisdom and knowledge that was easy to absorb because of the love that was shown behind it that I recognized. That love that was there since my birth, and as I was growing up that love transferred into the life lessons she was teaching. I know reading this sounds a little selfish, but it’s really not. What it is an appreciation of everything she gave in raising me those twelve years I had with her. All the sacrifices she made to make sure her little man was straight, and I love her for it.

I still feel the effects of that idea too soon, and the way it shows up is like a jealous admiration when I see my friends and family  members who are blessed to have their mothers in their life. Now I know what you are asking, and I’m not telling you what “jealous admiration” means, just know it’s just the best way to describe how I feel in witnessing that. It’s beautiful to see adults my age and older having healthy relationships with their mothers, but in the same feeling I get that feeling of wondering what if. What if she got to see me graduate middle school from the school she attended when she was a little girl? I think about that all the time, and begin to wonder if I would have got a jumpstart on my dreams. What if she got to see me graduate High school? This one hurts, because I believe I would’ve followed my dream of becoming a professional wrestler. 

Now I’m not trying to make this about my regrets, all I’m saying is that the gap of growth is missing. I don’t know what would have come of it and how our relationship would have been during my adult years, but I would have loved to have that experience. So now I live through those close to me and enjoy the interaction they are having with their mothers in our adult days. 

I wrap this up by saying that I really miss my mother, and even though it got easier to deal with her death over the years I have moments when I’m broken over it.  On the other hand I’m appreciative of the love she showed the time she was here, and all the lives she impacted when people find out I’m Shannon’s son.

She was and awesome Mother