A mother’s love (by Annie K)

The blog carnival topic for this time around is Reconciliation. Check out some other great posts on this topic at my friend Bridget’s place, One Word at a Time. I love this story written by my friend Annie last year. There’s more to the story. You can find it by visiting her blog, Buzz by Annie’s.


For over five weeks I had avoided going into her room but I knew sooner or later I was going to have to face the daunting task of packing up the things she left behind.

I looked around the room and took in the few items left hanging in the closet, mainly the old clothes she didn’t wear anymore. The desk held a few nick knacks, school supplies and stuffed animals. The walls had been left mostly bare except for the remnants of her high school volleyball days and a random tack here and there.

I climbed up on the bunk bed and began taking down the volleyball shirts one-by-one. Player number on the front, name across the back. One shirt had the words ‘Team Captain’ boldly printed across the chest, and I had a flashback to the moment she told me she’d made captain. There were bags she had hung that had been decorated by her ‘secret bear pal’ and given to her on the days we played our cross town rival. Pictures of her with the team, the saying, ‘you wish you could hit like a girl’ and the ’10 Reasons I Play Volleyball’, all came down one at a time along with the memories I had of her volleyball days.

I climbed down from the bunk bed and began going through the items on her desk. There was an Angel jewelry holder that she had painted at a little pottery studio we had visited and I carefully wrapped it up and put it into a box. I gently tucked the stuffed animals into the box along with jewelry, pictures, old cell phone chargers, books, and school projects that she had worked so diligently on.

As I cleaned off her desk, I noticed the tiny white Christmas lights that she had strung around her desk and up the bunk bed. I plugged them in and continued working.

I went to the closet and began opening the drawers of her dresser, a hand-me-down from when I was a little girl. As I opened the top drawer I smiled at the mismatched socks in it. We had always laughed about the fact that she never wore matching socks. And there was not a match in the drawer. I closed the drawer and left the socks as they were.

Other drawers held old high school sweatshirts that I packed along with the volleyball shirts into a box. The jewelry box she’d had as a girl that was tucked safely away in the third drawer down was just going to stay put. For now.

As I surveyed the room, I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten and the room was becoming dark except for the white Christmas lights. I glanced over at her desk and my eyes landed on the blue dolphin lamp sitting there. Blue was her favorite color and she’d always loved dolphins. I reached over to turn the lamp on and it lit up as mini lightning bolts raced through the dolphin. I stood there for a moment watching the lightning show…and then the tear fell.

And it fell for the emptiness of the room.

And then another fell for the hurt and sadness of my daughter walking out the door and not looking back.

And another fell, for not seeing her in those mismatched socks.

And then the tears came.

For wondering how the dreams for ones child could go so wrong somewhere along the way and for feeling like I was packing up all the memories I had of her 17 years into a few boxes.

And for missing the hugs, the kisses and the ‘I love yous’, the laughter, the quiet moments, singing Lady Gaga in the car, being goofy, baking cookies and watching movies.

And they fell because I won’t watch her graduate from my old alma mater, and because don’t want to miss out on her future.

And they fell because I’m afraid she doesn’t know how much I miss her.


As I sat there letting the tears fall I knew it was only the beginning. There will be many more tears in the coming weeks, and who knows, maybe months because there is a lot of healing in our relationship that needs to happen, for both of us. But, there is one thing that I am certain of where my daughter and I are concerned. And that is no matter what the differences are, or what trials we face, or how mad and disappointed we are with each other, she knows I love her and I know she loves me.

« « Previous Post: Vehicle cleaning: No children allowed (by Billy Coffey) | Next Post: The picture inside the picture (Repost) » »

13 Responses to “A mother’s love (by Annie K)”

  1. A Simple Country Girl November 2, 2010 at 10:00 am #

    Oh my. I will go and read the “more” of the story now. Thanks Annie for this writing and thanks Kathy for sharing it.

    (I have apologized over and again for what I put my single mom through as a teenager. Although we never did have a parting like the one written about here, we are tight friends now. We laugh until we spurt tea out our noses…that kind of friendship. There is hope. There is always Hope, especially when the mother’s love beats on and on…)


  2. Doug Spurling November 2, 2010 at 10:18 am #

    Thank you for sharing your heart your tears your soul. And thank God for reconciliation – I haven’t read the rest of your story yet, but I read your last line here. “And that is no matter what the differences are, or what trials we face, or how mad and disappointed we are with each other, she knows I love her and I know she loves me.”

    And that is enough to know the end because. Love never fails.

  3. Glynn November 2, 2010 at 10:27 am #

    This one just aches. You can’t read it without feeling the ache, and the pain.

  4. Maureen November 2, 2010 at 10:27 am #

    I remember reading this and was moved then and am moved now.

  5. April November 2, 2010 at 10:39 am #

    I agree with Glynn, this one just aches for the reconciliation that won’t come; at least not for many years.

  6. Marni November 2, 2010 at 11:18 am #

    I remember this from last year and cannot read it again since it broke my heart the first time. But how awesome is it to get to see God reunite Annie and her sweet daughter πŸ™‚

  7. Michael November 2, 2010 at 12:42 pm #

    I’m tearing up now too.

  8. jasonS November 2, 2010 at 1:10 pm #

    I can’t even imagine. What a hell to go through. Thank you for sharing it Annie. I know many will be touched by your openness and honesty. I know I was.


  9. Kathleen November 2, 2010 at 8:42 pm #

    Real tears grow hearts and hope gardens.

  10. Candy November 2, 2010 at 11:57 pm #

    Oh Annie, I can just see those tears fall. I’m reminded of the Washington Irving quote: β€œThere is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief…and unspeakable love.”

    You are one strong woman, and I know how He has held you up during this difficult time. And she knows how much you love her. Oh, does she know.

  11. Hazel Moon November 5, 2010 at 7:48 pm #

    How sad when our defiant children leave home angry, but my happy thought is that the story is not over and the ending is still not in sight. We will pray for a reconciliation and joy again.

  12. Bridget November 6, 2010 at 10:59 pm #

    It isn’t any easier to read this time… my heart breaks. Thanks for sharing to both of you.

  13. Joanne Norton November 13, 2010 at 11:21 pm #

    Heavy sigh. Been there… still there… after many years, still waiting… my only hope is the heart of my dear Father, His great desire for reconciliation and His ability to break through.

Leave a Reply:

Gravatar Image

XHTML: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>