My mom is a neverending song in my heart of comfort, happiness, and being. I may sometimes forget the words but I always remember the tune.

I have realized lately how envious I am of people my age who still have their parents in their lives. My mom was killed in a car accident when I was 22. I realize age-wise, I was considered an adult...but mentally and emotionally, I was still a kid. My mom and I had just started participating in the friend role with each other versus the parent/child roles we had always been when she died.

Many days I think about how my adult life would be like if she hadn't. I think about how much she dreamed of being a grandma (but didn't want to rush us into being grown up), and how wonderful she would have been with my boys and how much they would have loved her.

My friend, Laura, was going on the other day about how anytime she goes home her mom always knows Laura is going to have a new project for her to work on...and even though her mom gives her a hard time about it, Laura says she knows her mom just loves it. I know my mom would have been the same way... I know how much she knew I couldn't wait to have my own classroom and would have sewn or made anything for me.

I also see Spencer and how he just wants to hang out with his parents. It's hard for me to imagine. Knowing someone wants you to drop in any time because you are theirs. I understand that from a parent's perspective, but I am lacking in the understanding of it from the grown child's perspective. It truly is a void in my life.

There are still many a days that I feel the need to call and tell my mom my worries, hopes, dreams...a call that only a mom can answer... only problem is there is no number I know to dial.