Mom

 I am thinking about you, Mom, but that's nothing new. My mind is filled with childhood memories, like holding your hand as we crossed the street to the store, and the loving glances I caught when you thought I didn't see. I reflect on all the years we had together and how I wish for more, but God needed another angel and chose you to sit beside Him, watching over me until my name is called....

I think of you, Mom, when the brightest star above me is the one we watched together while sitting on a blanket, or during the times we walked down a tree-lined street when the rest of the world slept.

We made each other a promise: when I chose to join the Navy, that no matter where it took me, we would never drift apart. All we had to do was look high into the heavens and see our star, knowing we weren't that far away.

I remember you, Mom, when my world turned upside down. You always helped me understand that life isn’t always fair, but it usually comes around. 

I smile as I think of you and the times we shared—the endless laughter and, sometimes, the tears we shed while talking on the phone to say goodnight. I remember the moment when the line went dead; I held the phone to my ear, as I  listened to the silence on your end, and my tears flowed. An emptiness filled my heart with such sorrow, I'm certain God felt my pain.

I think about you, Mom, when I long for your loving touch, when the darkness tries to scare me, and I feel like giving up. I keep your picture in my mind and on my fridge so I won't forget your face, blowing it a kiss each time I begin and end my day.

I know you're watching over me; I feel it in my heart. I see us walking down that tree-lined street as the world slept, both of us in our pajamas, laughing at what people behind closed blinds were thinking. I remember every second we shared and cherish them all. Don't wait up for me, Mom. I still have work to do, but our day will come eventually, when we will spend eternal amounts of time together laughing, smiling, and above all, knowing why we are here.

Mike 2025