Dear Mom

harrypottershop.com

 My mom passed away nine years ago this June, and I still miss her. I see her occasionally in my dreams where she is oddly quiet -- oddly because, in life, my mom was about as quiet as I am. 

Talking to her is what I miss most. I loved coming home from an adventure -- or even just a shopping trip -- and telling her all about it over the phone. We'd swap stories about sales and bargains (my mom always loved a good bargain), along with rationalizations about the things we just had to have. Fortunately, this is. a tradition my daughter and I have carried on, which I think would make my mom happy.

Last week, my husband, my daughter, and I spent a few days in New York City. We haven't been there together in a while (oddly enough, my daughter and I were both there -- separately -- last month) and we managed to cram a lot in. And, when I came home, I wanted to call my mom and tell her all about it. 

Except I couldn't. So I wrote her a letter instead.

While in New York, I splurged on a leather-bound journal at the Harry Potter store. I say "splurged" not only because it was more expensive than I think a notebook should be, but also because the last thing I needed was another notebook. In a recent re-organization of my office, I discovered even more blank notebooks than the embarrassingly large collection that I already knew I had, and I decided I definitely didn't need to purchase any more until I used some of what I had.

Oops.

I didn't know what I was going to do with the journal when I bought it but, shortly after I got home, I knew exactly what I wanted to use it for. I gathered some of my New York souvenirs and used them to create collages on the first several pages. And the next day, when I decided to write to my mom, I knew exactly where that letter had to go.

Ironically, the letter bears an uncanny resemblance to another project I'm working on. I didn't realize this when I decided to write to my mom instead of just writing a journal entry, and I'm not yet sure whether it means something or is simply my mind working overtime and then cluing me in later.

I still don't know what I'll use the rest of the notebook for. More travel notes? More letters to Mom? But right now that doesn't matter. Right now, having shared my trip with my mom made it even sweeter.

Love you, Mom.