I know Mother's Day was last week. I didn't write anything then. But for me, most of my reflections come not in the lead up of holidays, but afterwards, when I have time to think about how I celebrated it this year, compare it to what I should have done, and so on.

The inspiration for today's reflection came when I woke up this morning and burst into tears. It's not unusual for me. Our family has suffered enough pain and loss in the past year and a half to warrant waking up and crying. I lost my little brother as well as my uncle, who is my mother's brother.

But today I woke up and cried because I had a nightmare that my mother had died.

I don't remember the details. My brain has a habit of blocking out memories or chunks of memory that I don't want to remember, whether it be embarrassing, sad or stressful. Oddly enough, I think there was sentimental reason for Reese's peanut butter cups to play a key role in it all. Either way, in the dream, she was dead, and it was bad.

I can't really imagine life without my mother. She's a rock, even though she'll say she isn't, and she's the glue that holds our family in one piece. She picks her battles, she's the Alpha bitch (as we like to joke) among our various animals and at her job. She's shockingly modest even though she is pretty kick-ass and should be bragging about herself from here to kingdom come. She works nights, but it's not unusual for her to have two hours of sleep for 48 hours of being up. She used to go even longer than that, but age does have some compensations.

I feel like I'm writing her obituary, which can account for the wetness in my eyes right now as I type. When my brother died, we had a family discussion about what each of us wanted for our own funerals. I told her that we'd need to rent out a big hall and accommodate a lot of space for hers, and she waved it off. She genuinely doesn't believe that so many people would show up, which is preposterous. She's the most easily accessible in our family, the least socially awkward among my dad and I, a leader and senior nurse at the hospital, and despite her dislike of crowds, a people person. For goodness sake, she's a nurse — and a highly respected one at that. When her father-in-law or her sister or even her friend was in the hospital, her co-workers made extra note that it was her family in there. Yeah, you treat all patients equally, but come on. She commands attention.

My mother is the one I go to for advice. For everything. Before my friends. My father and I love and rely on her so much, and so much so that if she were to disappear from us today, we would have absolutely no idea what to do. We'd be lost. I can't handle that right now.

So here's to the strongest person I know. My mother. My unbelievably wonderful mother, who goes through so much. I love you, Mama.