Odd moments

It sneaks up on me, that crafty and relentless thing called grief.



Yes, it comes out to prey on me in those obvious moments when Mom is at the forefront of my mind - when I want to tell her about the boys, when we drive by the cemetery, when I have flashbacks to what it was like for her that last time in the hospital....



Yet it is all too ready to take advantage of those odd moments when I'm unprepared and defenseless against the fresh onslaught of horror that overwhelms me when I remember that Mom is gone. It delights in reminding me that even though I know without a doubt she's in a place of no pain, I would gladly take one more chance to tell her that I love her.



Odd moments.



I can't hold back the hands of time...or even reverse them. I wouldn't if I could. However, the selfish and fallible side of me very much wishes that I could hold back those odd moments when I'm so vulnerable against that thing called grief.