Thread by @gradydoctor

#TodayICried, Day 1 of 7

My mother does this thing when having her photo taken. She erupts into laughter and does so repeatedly with each snap. It's her way of getting to a natural smile--even if it's through an unnatural chuckle.

It's so awkward. And adorable.

And her.

2/
And so. This little thing that my mom does floated into my mind as I spoke to you on this day. A fleeting thought but one I paused to savor.

Yeah.

Your mother passed away a few months ago. And yes, she'd been ill. But still. She was your mom.

Your mom.

3/
You'd asked me about the holidays. What my family planned to do and such. And I told you. Then I boomeranged the query straight back at you.

Then I remembered.

Me: "Oh wait. This is the first Christmas?"

Your shoulders curled inward and you gave a tiny nod.

Me: "Damn."

4/
You: "Yeah, it's gonna be different for sure."

We sat in silence for a few beats. I looked down in deference, waiting to see what you'd say next.

You: "Funny thing about moms. You don't realize how much you'll miss the little quirky things they do until they leave you."

5/
Me: "Tell me one of them."
You: *looking up in surprise* "Gosh. There are so many."

I immediately wanted to take that ask back. It was probably too much.

Me: "My bad. Ignore that."

*pause*

You: "She buttoned my coat. Like, even when I was a full grown-up."
Me: "Yeah?"

6/
You: "Yep. Like, you know how you do that for a child? Face them and button them up so they won't catch a chill? Yeah. She always did that."

You shook your head and chuckled.

You: "I used to be like, 'Mom. Seriously? I'm 40-something years old with kids!"

*laughter*

7/
You: "Yeah, so today when I was leaving for work, I thought of that. I was buttoning up my coat and all I could think of was that."

The emotion was mounting. I held your gaze and offered a knowing nod.

Me: "That's love."
You: "Moms are funny like that."

*silence*

8/
After that, things picked up and we got busy in clinic. When it was time for us to leave, I told you I was glad we got to work together. Like, not just on this day but period.

To which you said:

"Me, too."

And walked down the hall.

And that was it.

10/
It was raining when I reached the door of the hospital. And also chilly. So I plopped my bag down at my feet and fed the end of my zipper into the end of my open parka.

Then I pulled. Up. Past my waist, over my chest, and to my chin. Slowly and lovingly.

Like a mom.

11/
I walked out, felt the rain on my face, and laughed. Laughed like my mom and thought about how much I'd miss her forced laughs in response to me pressing my cheek against hers for a selfie.

And then, I thought of you.

And of moms.

And I cried.

💛

(some details changed)

P.S. Sending love to those who are missing mothers and loved ones during this season. I am grateful to have my mom here in Atlanta and know that your reflections serve as a reminder to be present and intentional in every day that we share.

#cryingallowed
#humanismalways 💛