I have deleted this post several times already. All my versions seem inadequate. And when I DID find the right words, we lost our Internet and it zapped my copy before I could save it.

It’s a hard blog to write because, after all, how does one honor the woman who brought you into this world? The woman who gave 100% of herself and THEN some to love you and to raise you and to protect you?

My mother would have turned 78 today.

But she died suddenly and unexpectedly last July of a mysterious infection that shut down her organs within a matter of days.

By the time I raced to the ICU in San Francisco, she was in a coma that she remained in for the final days of her life.

This time last year, she was enjoying a beautiful scrapbook that her grand kids made for her. I remember it was a much nicer day than today in Northern California. Today it is rainy and dark and the house is much quieter.

The last conversation my mother and I had was a fight. An ugly one. But a silly and insignificant one, too. I am not sure at what point I will stop blaming myself for having spent our last conversation arguing over something so seemingly insignificant now.

I think we never really consider the possibility that the last conversation we have with someone could very well be THE last conversation.

I am not suggesting you get morbid or sad or depressed. Just be aware. We never know how long we have with the ones we love.

They can be gone in an instant and we will generally always regret having said too many stupid things and not enough nice and loving things.

Enjoy the time we have. Not tomorrow. Not someday. But NOW.

Now is all we ever really have.

Tomorrow is a gift. But today is a miracle. Live it to the fullest and love to the fullest.

Happy birthday, Mom. I know you heard me as I whispered my love and adoration for you even as you layed there unconscious. I know deep down you did.

And it makes me happy to think that THAT is the chat you took with you over our stupid and unnecessary fight.

I love you and miss you terribly. We all do.

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