Mom, you live merely three miles from where I do, but I need to tell you that sometimes I’m homesick for you.
On the days when motherhood drains the very marrow within my bones, I need you to know that I miss you.
I miss the smell of my childhood home, full of lavender at my request and crackling fireside at yours. I miss the way our front door screeched before coming to a halting slam against the backs of our heels without fair warning. And if I’m being so brutally honest, I miss laughing behind your back at the squeals you made each time because of it.
After a rainy day in the midwest, as I’m scraping the bottom of my mucky shoes, I will always think of the days when you hosed my mud-covered body down on the side lawn. Lord knows I wasn’t allowed in the house covered in dirt from head to toe, but I miss those days. I hated the garden hose, but you always found a way to make it fun.
I’m blessed to have these moments to look back on, but I’m homesick for our past memories.
When the kids are restless and cannot sleep, I realize that I now hold the role you did for so many years. And as I drive until the little ones in the backseat finally start to get some rest, I feel nostalgic remembering a time when I sat where my own children do now. How many times did the hum of the engine lull me to sleep while you watched me from the rearview? It feels like it came and went all too quickly. It happened before I had the chance to truly appreciate all of the goodness in those moments. But I want you to know that I truly miss and am homesick for those days, Mom.
I know that for so many years while growing up, I sometimes made you feel like you were an annoyance. Although it’s only natural in a mother-daughter relationship, I couldn’t be more apologetic.
But Mom, even in those awful days for you, I still miss them for me. I miss the comfort of a home with just you and me. The times when we did whatever we wanted whenever we wanted. You know, before there were four toddlers to scream at us for doing otherwise.
Maybe I just miss my childhood, but I’m lonely for the times when you were my sole comforter. The days when my aching heart could be fixed with a walk to the gas station and the therapy of an orange push pop. I feel like a child for saying it, but sometimes this Mommy feels homesick for her own Mommy.
Between the four kids I now have, and the life you have adjusted to without me, our “Goodnight, I love you,” phone calls have become far and few between. It’s not your fault, and it’s not my fault. It’s the bittersweet cycle of life. Who is to blame? But I want you to know that I treasure the days where we never forgot a single one.
For that, I purely miss you, Mom.
I love being Mom, neither you or I could deny knowing that. But it’s bittersweet remembering a time when your life used to mirror mine. With what feels like the blink of an eye to you has been my entire life for me. Now, I am the mother you once were. I wipe the tears, drive the car and compose all of the big feelings.
So yes, I miss the simpler days. And I just want to say, thank you for allowing me my simple days. And thank you for seeing me through my now difficult ones.
Mom, thank you for giving me a childhood home worthy to feel homesick for.
This article was originally published on