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Tue, Oct 07 2008 

Published: May 10, 2008 09:44 pm    print this story   email this story   comment on this story  

Jimmy Espy: Two of a kind

Dalton Daily Citizen

Cancer killed my mom in February. It seems like yesterday. The hurt has not subsided. I know it will at some point and life will be better, but even that thought has its sharp edges. Happiness now, without her, brings a share of guilt. How can I laugh when she isn’t here to laugh with me?

My 3-year-old daughter handles it better than me. When I mention “Granny Sally” — and I often do — she quickly reminds me that “Granny Sally is in heaven” and though exactly what and where heaven is remains a mystery to her, it’s one she is content to live with because it means her granny is OK.

I share Rowan’s mystification at the nature of heaven, but do not enjoy her blessed equanimity.

I want to cry and curse and find someone to blame. Mostly I want to hold my mom’s hand and tell her how much I miss her and love her and treasure the million good things she did.

It’s best my little girl doesn’t feel these things now. But in writing this I hope it will one day help her understand what a great loss she suffered. That’s why I talk to her so much about my mom. I want Rowan to always remember her grandmother and to love her as she deserved to be loved.

In the midst of my despair there is one great source of solace and of hope.

Seeing my little girl with her own mother, my wife Alison, is a burst of bright sunlight. Alison is a wonderful mom, tough when necessary and tender when needed. Coming to bed late some nights, I find them in deep slumber — Rowan’s head tucked closely to her mom’s.

Both safe. Both at peace. Both so achingly beautiful it’s hard not to wake them to say how much I love them and how lucky I am they let me live under the same roof.

I felt that way as a kid. My childhood had its rough and rocky moments, but I never once felt alone. If all else failed, there was mom.

Rowan might not be able to articulate that now, but she feels the same way too.

She will always have her mother.

And I will always have mine.



Jimmy Espy is executive editor of The Daily Citizen

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