Random Tears

I remember the first Mother’s Day after my mother died; I would walk around with random tears in my throat being so completely envious of all of the happy mother-daughter pairs that I suddenly felt were all around me. Going into a Hallmark store was my undoing. My mom and I shared a love of cards, the sappier the better. I stood in a line of I Love You, Mom cards and started to sob.

There are moments in your life when you miss someone so much,
you could pick them up out of your dreams and hug them.

I had another occasion of random tears today, but now I am the mother and Kelly is the daughter. I walked into my neighbourhood Loblaw’s, list in hand for a wonderful family dinner that I am planning tonight for Corey, Natasha and Ayden. It’s a beautiful day and the sun is shining, so I have sunglasses on.

As I walk in, the song that Kelly and I share is playing over the store speakers. I sense the tears well up in my throat as sudden as a summer storm. I feel the moisture coming slowly into my eyes as the missing-my-baby rain starts up in my heart.

I’m gulping back the ache in my throat as I walk over to the fish counter. I order salmon; I’m sure with a voice that sounded oddly choked. The clerk is weighing the salmon and pricing it. As the words of the song play on, I am trying valiantly to keep the tears from spilling out of my eyes, thankful for the sunglasses that shield the telltale shine of tears. The clerk comes over to tell me the price of the salmon and asks “was that okay?” (It was pricey!)

At that moment, I feel the tears leaking through the bottom of my sunglasses and rolling down my face. Although I say to the clerk that “it’s fine”, I can see if she’s wondering whether the price is fine or if I’m really saying -- it’s okay, I’m fine.

I flee the aisle and head to the other end of the store where the song is less audible. Then, finished my list, I head back because I’ve forgotten bread – located near the fish stand. The song is not playing anymore, but it is still looping through my mind and clutching at my heart. I stand still in the bread aisle; I’m sure looking as lost as I felt. A woman stops and looks at me and says, “What happened?” I’m thinking, “Oh my God, do I really look that fragile?”

Then I realize that she is talking about what has happened to six or seven aisles that the store used to have, filled with all sorts of breads and buns and bagels – of every flavour, size, and density. I say to her, “It looks like they have crammed all the bread into this small space, and left the rest of the space open to their new fresh dessert and pastry selection”. "Like”, she and I both say at the same moment, “we all need more pastry!” We share a Pepsi-on-you laugh.

“No”, she says, “We don’t need more pastry; just more sweetness in our lives. You have a great day.”

I walk away smiling through dried tears. I do have more sweetness in my life than many. I have Kelly.

“A daughter is the happy memories of the past,

the joyful moments of the present,
and the hope and promise of the future.”

Be Sweet, Baby Girl.