Happy Mother's Day

Carina Muldez Bayne

02.02.48 - 12.17.97

Happy Mother's Day to all those mothers out there. Especially to the ones I know: Alicia Ulrich, Ashley Smith, Audrey Escherich, Phyllis Lines, Carrie Buckel, Catherine Rocha, Chandra Martinez, Cheryle Still, Cheyanna Flower, Cindy Buckingham, Cristina Waters, Danielle Dawn, Ginny Hoyt, Gretchen Maliska, Heidi Vazquez, Janelle Rees, Jo Rorberg, Renee Payne, Josie Powers, Julie Gish, Tammy Escherich, Kristine Santiago, Luz Bayne, Mari Odette-Kanotz, Maria Chieruzzi, Traci Briggs, Megan Lovett, Rachelle Maurer, Renee Prengel, Sami Smith, Shyla McKinzie, and Sidney Nettleton. If I forgot someone, I do apologize! It's an extensive list so please know you should be on it.

My mom? Greatest woman I ever met. Although, I didn't realize it until after her passing. It's not like I wasn't grateful, proud of her, honored her, and more, I didn't realize it was the tallest order for me to locate yet another woman like her. Especially when I use her as the measure of things that are awesome.

Why do you think I still write 'open letters' to her even though she's been gone for 17 years? In the hopes, she'll read it or hear it in heaven and take action? Um, no. Are you crazy? It's an expression for me to seek solace in the knowledge that if she 1) was alive 2) and used the internet that she might answer me.

I loved her. Not as a momma's boy, but as a son should. She was a daughter, sister, wife, mother, and friend to many. I could only try to be half of that! And be as loved back by so many. Were those days that she's completely frustrated me? Infuriated? You bet! At the end of the day, she still was my mom, so yeah you forgive and forget.

I hope she's proud of the man I am as of now (never know about the future) I am certainly more confident about fulfilling my promise I made her on her deathbed. More so than last year, and definitely more than I was 21.

This Mother's Day has been more brutal to dig through than other years, not gonna lie. Usually I'm cool for school, but some years, it's tough. This is one of those. And this Sunday, I miss our Sunday ritual a ton...

Mom and I would post up at the kitchen table. Dad and Charrina still asleep. She'd make coffee, I would fetch the Sunday newspaper outside. I already dressed up for my job as a supervisor for Thrifty Payless Drug Inc.

I would read the Sports section first, Mom the Front Page, in silence. Comfortable silence. We wouldn't remark about our thoughts, and opinions on what we were reading. We would exchange sections that are read, until we have read thoroughly the newspaper. Afterward we would casually talk about the upcoming day for a few minutes but usually cut short by my commute time to my craptastic job.

We wouldn't say goodbye, either. We exchange I love you's, and hugs. She knew I loved her, and I knew she loved me, and it was just understood - nonverbal communication.

We would depart by saying until next time.

Indeed, Mom.

Until next time we meet. Hopefully it'll be on a Sunday morning, would love to read the newspaper with you again.

This has been my C Note.

'los

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