the garage

i repainted the pantry, painted a shelf, finished the laundry, and cleaned out the garage yesterday. i came to a box of my Mother's things and i found her bag of hair things. bobby pins, scrunchies, picks, etc. these were things she used before chemo.... i was looking through the bag when i saw a piece of hair. a piece of my mother's hair wrapped around a brown bobby pin. i slowly unravled it so that it wouldn't tear. i held it up to the light and just looked at it. i was touching TOUCHING a piece of my mothers HAIR!!!!!!!!! i frantically dug through the bag to find more. each time i found a piece i added it to the small pile in my other hand. when i couldn't find anymore i sat on the floor and looked at it. this only tangible, touchable piece left of my mom. and it's here in MY hand. in some strange, perhaps twisted way, she was there beside me again. i felt her watching me. and i cried. for the first time in a very long time i didn't bite the insides of my cheeks to keep from crying. i didn't close my eyes to blink them away. i didn't swallow that lump in the back of my throat that pops up everytime someone mentions her name or calls me on Mother's day to see how i am doing. i wasn't okay. and i didn't have to be because i was holding a part of my mom right in my hand. afterwards i put on her glasses and looked at myself in the mirror, and i saw her looking back at me. never before has the statement "you look exactly like your mother" been so important to me. i realized that while i held her hair in my hand, the physical part left of her, in MY HAND, i was holding the rest of her. she was everything i am.everything i hope to be. the rest of her is tucked safely away in my heart....and nothing, not even the selfishness of death, can ever EVER take her away from me.