Nine years ago today, June 13, my mother died. It was unexpected and a shock, though not unanticipated. She had survived breast cancer three times, but the treatment that prolonged her life eventually took it.
Looking back I see how much I took my mom for granted. While that's often considered to be a bad thing, I mean it as a positive. I took her for granted because she was dependable, consistent, and reliable. She was also stubborn, opinionated, and sometimes what my teenage daughter calls "extra". You always knew where you stood with my mom. You could count on her to tell you the truth, even if it hurt. I never wondered if my mother loved me, I knew she did even when she wasn't agreeing with my choices or my opinions.
I'm now at the stage where I miss her with love, and not in sorrow or regret for time lost. My mom helped shape me into the woman, wife and mother that I am today. I had the luxury of taking her for granted, and I hope that someday my children will take me for granted too.