“I thought we’d have more time…” this single thought has run through my mind ever since I found out that my mom is dying. Normally, I am one of those people that can handle bad news.  One of those ‘strong’ individuals that handle life’s many curve balls with head held high with the grace of a lady- but, not this time. The news rocked me to my very core. My heart broke that day. I can not imagine my life without her. 

My parents adopted me at three days old.  They never kept my adoption secret, for which  I am grateful. Now that I am a mother myself, I have first-hand knowledge on the instantaneous bond of love between birth mother and child. The immediate bond that naturally occurred the moment my eyes met my son’s, was not quite so naturally occurring in my non-biological union. The bond I share with my mother was shaped and molded over time.  It was formed because of her constant love and attention.  And now she is going to leave. I always thought we would have more time.  Time to talk.  Time to forgive each other’s shortcomings.  Time to laugh, cry, yell, and hug.  More time to love. 

I have lost many of my friends and relatives through the years, and each will always have a place in my heart, but this is different.

This is my mom. 

She is an extraordinary mom.  Really.  This woman stepped in and took over the care of my son when my bad choices led me astray,  and she still loved me.  This woman that always did the best she knew how to do while raising me, took it a step further.  She was a good mother, but she was an amazing grandmother. 

I wrote this post because a lot of people I know are mad at, fighting with, or have just lost touch with their mother’s.  I’m writing this to tell those people that it’s not too late, call or write or visit your families now, while they are here.  Now, while there is still time… Tell them you love them before it’s too late.