I had a morning after-Christmas, online chat with my father and my siblings and their respective families. It was all very pleasant. They just had their wonderful Christmas dinner, were trading banter, and preparing for the major part of the gathering, the opening of gifts. My two nephews and niece did what little children are supposed to do: Provide a backdrop of gleeful chaos and the purest, most innocent laughter. I was once a part of this annual event, some seven Christmases ago when I spent my holidays with them. It was a Christmas like all other joyous family occasions; happiness and laughter overflowed, everyone was there (save for my wife and children who were back home), and thoughts of mortality were farthest from our minds.
Our Mom passed away a month ago, and when the idea of a chat was born, and while we were on it, I was asking myself why we didn't do it before when she was still with us. Perhaps we took things for granted, like we do when we feel that things are in their proper places, with nothing amiss. And when everyone was there and alive and kicking, things indeed were in their proper places.
Mothers and fathers complete families, and when one of them is gone, those left behind reach out to fill the void. We reached out today to fill the space Mom left behind, to complete the circle once more. All good, I should say. Oh, Mom always completed the circle so wonderfully! We always felt secure and complete. She was among life's reliable constants. A bit enigmatic at times, but she was always there. I miss her terribly.
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