I am terrible at remembering anniversaries

I am terrible about remembering anniversaries. Yet this year, when all of my friends who celebrate it were sharing photos of their Thanksgiving feast I couldn't help but remember that last year, on the day after Thanksgiving Mom went into the hospital for the last time, and I flew over there to be with her as soon as possible thereafter.

I am terrible about remembering anniversaries, so it took my sisters mentioning it for me to realise that it is just one year ago today that Mom left me alone in that hospital room with the job of telling my sisters that she had breathed her last.

We were all lucky. She was spared a painful ending, she was weak, but her mind and spirit were strong. She had five days between when she decided that she didn't want that balloon pump helping to keep her heart going and when her heart finally beat its last, there were times to say goodbye, to tell her how important she was, to hear her assurances that she had had a good life, and was ready to go, to have her tell us, not just once, but many times, that it is ok to cry, just keep a smile at the same time.

It isn't easy (and she knew it wouldn't be), but Mom, I am smiling for you. Those tears? They are tears of love.