{"id":223,"date":"2014-05-10T21:39:52","date_gmt":"2014-05-10T21:39:52","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/lifelessonsfromoz.com\/blog\/?p=223"},"modified":"2015-03-18T15:04:59","modified_gmt":"2015-03-18T19:04:59","slug":"mirror-mirror","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lifelessonsfromoz.com\/blog\/mirror-mirror\/","title":{"rendered":"Mirror Mirror"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u201cMirror Mirror on the wall, I\u2019m my mother after all.\u201d<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"Mom<\/a>

Mom helping me dress wedding day 1982<\/p><\/div>\n

It happened just the other day when I went into the downstairs bath to get a tissue. I looked into the mirror as is my\u00a0habit and I saw her. My mother staring back at me. It wasn\u2019t the first time I\u2019ve seen traces of her in my smile or my jowls. Yet this time her entire face was looking at me through my eyes.<\/p>\n

At 56, I look like my memory\u2019s version of my mother at the same age. You know, the one that shows up in the reflection during the unguarded moments when you\u2019re thinking you really should skip the afternoon Starbucks run and get back to your writing. When my mother was 56, I was 24. Younger than my own sons now.<\/p>\n

I was cocksure I knew what the world had in store for me when I was 24. Marriage, career, family\u2014two, maybe three kids. Broad strokes of what life would look like, waiting for the pages to fill in as the years rolled by. And I was right, I do have those things.<\/p>\n

What I couldn\u2019t predict back then was how much I would miss having Mom to share the gap between 38 and 56. She died way too early in 1996 from the ravages of liver cancer. This sweet, funny and at times sassy woman of faith was taken from our family swiftly\u2014two months from diagnosis to death. The giant gaping hole in my universe from her death has filled in some. You have to lay the sorrow to rest if you want to get on with life. I know if she were sitting beside me today, she\u2019d say something comforting like, \u201cWell, Tory, that\u2019s what life gives you. Remember the happy times and I\u2019ll always be there with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Maybe the bonus of getting older is how much I appreciate my mother. Her insights and wisdom escaped me in my youth yet settle in as I age. One day, I realized the line that separated us has woven into my own life. Though we can no longer talk in person, the deep well of Mom\u2019s knowing lies within. Her gentle teachings and whispers of endearments forever burned into my heart. When one ends, the other carries on.<\/p>\n

Mom has been with me through the pages of my life since she passed. She was ringside at each son\u2019s concert, art show, performance, horse show and graduations. I\u2019m sure she was giving me courage to face the illness that threatened Alex the summer he was 11. Holding my hand at the gravesites of Mark\u2019s parents. Shouting surprise at my 40th and 50th birthday parties. Reflecting \u00a0on the joy of \u00a0our wedding day at our 30th anniversary surprise celebration.<\/p>\n

When Alex and Adam came out, she was there guiding me to accept the news. Nothing changes the love for your children, though your heart might grieve some for the dreams of the future you\u2019d hoped for. I can certainly feel her joy radiating through the happiness Adam has found with his Adam. Mom would have loved other Adam. He\u2019s Stone family material through and through. She\u2019d have wept with me to learn Alex\u2019s story of hurt from his own first love. And cheered \u201cAll right!\u201d as Alex made his way into wholeness through his art.<\/p>\n

I had imagined conversations with her when I struggled with career choices. Remembering her last advice that October from the pink arm chair in the back room of my childhood home on the St. Lawrence River. \u201cNo amount of money is more important than being happy and enjoying your life.\u201d<\/p>\n

Now, here I am, setting off on a new course of writing. For living (and maybe a living). Telling the stories of my family and thoughts on the world shaped through my family\u2019s love. Mom always believed I\u2019d be published one day. That\u2019s the voice I will listen to more often than not when my wily inner critic says, \u201dnah, not gonna happen.\u201d I will look into the mirror the day I hold my printed book in my hand, conjuring Mom from the great beyond. I will smile her smile. Nod with that quick little head tilt and pump my right fist in the air repeating \u201cAllll righhht!\u201d<\/p>\n

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