# Ten Years On

I thought for a long time about how to properly commemorate the tenth year of my mom's passing. I thought maybe I could act surly for no reason at all. Or maybe I could make a whole bunch of work for someone just because it wasn't me that had to pick up the pieces. Or I could just go somewhere and leave no note of where I was going. After all, these are the ways I treated her when she was alive.

Mom worked. I mean she worked a hard-ass job. She did what was expected of her there, and then came home and did a ton of work there. I don't think I appreciated how much she did, how much she did for me, or how much insult and indignity she endured.

In the end, I guess, I'm destined to let her down again, since this is all I can muster to pay homage.

I regret that I didn't spend more time getting to know her, adult-to-adult. I know it's hard to get the history of parent-child out of the way enough to do that, but I really wish I had the opportunity to show her that, yes, I'm a somewhat competent, somewhat reasonably successful grown up, and thank her for putting that in me.

On the other hand, I still struggle to do all the things required of me, and I'm sure that my mom would greet that knowledge with a smile and a shaken head.

I'm lucky to have had a mom like her, happy with the work she did to help me be the man I am today, and proud of the person she was. Is it weird to be proud of your mom for who she was before you realized she was that person? Maybe. Either way, I wish she was still here.