Anonymous Soccer Mom

Musings from the Mundane to the Marvelous

Dragonfly Mom


dragonflyI was in my sister’s pool doing laps when a large red dragonfly swooped down and started following me back and forth. My first thought was “Mom?”

I know how crazy that sounds—I don’t believe in reincarnation, and even if I did, my mom would never come back as a dragonfly or an insect of any kind, for that matter. She’d come back as a mighty lioness or a beautiful dolphin or Sophia Loren. And I was angry with myself for even having this thought.

But I realized that I was simply desperate to feel that Mom is with me in some way, that she hovers somewhere close by watching over me, that she’s STILL HERE. Because despite what others say (i.e. “She’s with you, Janis. She’s within you, Janis”), and whether or not what they say is true, Mom is NOT HERE. I can’t give her a hug. I can’t hear her musical laugh. I can’t receive from her the advice and wisdom I need. I can’t make her smile or listen to her sing a bawdy British drinking song or shake up a martini for her to enjoy. I can’t hold her hand and watch Bones with her.

And, quite frankly, that sucks.

My son, who is ten, often tells me that he will love me and need me forever. (And, furthermore, he says he is never moving out—gulp!) And I know that he means what he says. Because we do love and need our moms forever. I need my mom now, probably more than I ever did, as I try to navigate middle age and motherhood and menopause. I am constantly questioning my choices and worrying about my decisions and ruing my hormone-challenged, ever-changing (and not for the better) body.

If Mom were here, I know what she would say. She’d say, “Janis, you are wonderful. You’re doing a terrific job. I’m so proud of you.”

And maybe knowing what Mom would say to me is the way in which she IS HERE. And although it’s not enough, it’ll have to do for now.

Until the next dragonfly comes along.


3 thoughts on “Dragonfly Mom

  1. That’s so tough; I know exactly where you are coming from. I lost a very close friend roughly 10 months ago, from stage IV cancer. Earlier this week, I was talking about her with my 8 year old, and he doesn’t remember much about her, the times we’d visit her when he was smaller, the way she’d play with him, etc. It broke my heart! I truly believe that the way someone remains with us is by remembering them, by sharing their stories, by never forgetting. They live on inside of us and in our hearts this way. I am trying to make it a point to never forget her, and to help my son to remember her, too.

    And you never know… that dragonfly could have very well been your mother. 🙂

  2. My BFF just finished (and recommended I read) Something New. I just moved out of my house- 42 years old, 20 years married, 15 yo son/11 yo daughter….

    My mom died on July 18 2013…. I miss her so very much. I see her in ladybugs and hummingbirds..

    • So sorry about your mom. I saw a beautiful butterfly the other day and thought…well, you know.
      Change is so hard, but often for the best. My thoughts are with you, Niki. Something New might provide you with some much needed laughter. 🙂

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