Angels

So for weeks Colton has been hounding me to have something of my mother’s in his room.  His first suggestion was a Chanel bag, which I explained was impractical.  The next was the necklace comprised of her engagement ring and wedding band that I wear every day.  Also, not the ideal pick I told him.  So we settled on a photo of her in a frame that usually sits on my mantle.

I’m undecided as to whether I think its strange that Colton speaks so often of my mom or not.  As a mother myself, it is so unimaginable to think of a day when I am no longer with my children.  I remember one day when my mom was going through treatment, the early days when we were all so committed and positive and just knew we would beat this thing together.  She was in her closet changing and took a little too long.  I went in to see what was going on and she was crying.  “What if I have to leave you????”  she said.  It was a devastating concept, and one I instantly tried my hardest to forget.  Now, with my own children, I can’t imagine the pain of that thought.  Of saying it out loud, and of imagining all the life moments she might miss.  Would miss.

I think I would work some magic.  I think I would channel myself in my 5 year old grandson sometimes, just to let my child know I was still there.  I would try my hardest to make myself known, to mother from beyond.  I realize this may sound absurd to someone who hasn’t walked in my shoes.  Or maybe any mother can relate, if she were to entertain such morbid thoughts.  Either way, I know I would jump up and down from wherever I was to make sure my kids knew I was watching them, was still with them.  I hear you mom.  I really do.

So when I came into his room after a while Colton was holding the picture in his hands.

“Mom, do you know what I was doing right before you came in?”

“No, what Colton?”

“I looked right into these eyes (points to mormor’s picture) and I said I believe in angels.”