Never Pass a Flower
Known to her grandchildren as "D", my mother loved playing Mah Jongg. In recent years, she could be found almost everyday at a game.
In addition to teaching me at a young age, she explained the game to my young children, my nephew, a cousin and my close friends.
A few months ago, she even came to a Mah Jongg Night I organized at our local coffee shop, Carmela Coffee. We played with my friends, other moms, drank wine and snacked on paninis and avocado toast. That was the last time.
In February, my mom passed away suddenly, exactly one year after my father’s diagnosis. It was and is completely devastating. My mom was young, healthy, and full of energy, although not as much lately.
Still, my brother and I were not at all prepared for what we had to endure. It was and will always be the worst day of my life.
As depressing as this sounds, and as hard as this year has been for my family, I am okay. Although it is early in the grieving process, and things may change at the drop of a hat, for now I am just trying to stay as busy as possible.
So, this is where my story changes. From a year of tragedy comes an idea that could hopefully change my perspective on what lies ahead.
And of course, whenever I play mah jongg, I feel her presence, and know she’s right there with me, telling me which hand to play and whispering in my ear never to pass a flower.