Mother’s Day for some meant flowers, homemade cards with little hand paintings, and jewelry. On this day there was love, laughter, and probably pancakes. Churches gave little video tributes and showed love and appreciation for all that moms do. Then, there were the Facebook posts of pictures with moms and people saying that they have fur babies, so that makes it Mother’s Day for them too.

For others, they can’t help feeling sad about this holiday because they are missing the central part, their mom. If you have lost your mom, this day might have just been a reminder of that. It might sound sad or depressing, but it’s true.

However, for this Mother’s Day, I didn’t want to sink into that sadness. For this year's Mother’s day, I didn’t want just to remember that she is gone to think about the sickness that took her. I have too many good memories to allow the ghost of cancer to follow me around and remind me of what I have already lost.

Instead, I remembered her.

I remembered her laugh and everything about it. The way it sounded and made me feel proud when I was telling a knock-knock joke at a young age. The way she smiled when she laughed and made a dim room bright. The way she could have little laughing fits that could go on for a good 5-10 minutes. Her laugh was contagious.

I remembered her famous stare that only a mother can perfect. This look would stop a misbehaving child right in their tracks. She would raise one eyebrow, just one, and thin her lips out. I received this look for numerous reasons at different points in my life. I would get this look when I didn’t do something at the exact moment I was told to do it when I was a bit too sassy, and when I would say something a little too mean to my siblings. I think this look is genetic. As if it’s a trait that is passed down along with the ability to roll your tongue. My sister has this trait. It has the same effect on her daughters as it did on us. I have tried this look and got laughs from my husband. It truly is the mothers stare.

I remembered how she looked, and I try to see her when I look at myself in the mirror. Sometimes this is intimidating. It’s like having big shoes to fill. Everyone sees themselves differently from how they look. So, I’m not saying I look like her based on my perspective. Ever since I was little, I was told by random people that I looked like her. I didn’t know what to say to these people but hearing this always made me happy. When we all would look through a tub of family pictures I would see some of her and how happy and pretty she looked. I then feel confidence and pride for the compliment of, “You look so much like your mom.”

There are some things that I don’t have just to remember because they are always in the back of mind. Like how strong my mom was when her body fought against herself. How she stayed faithful to God even when facing times of great adversity.

So, instead of focusing on memories that were touched by sickness. I now want to focus on the moments that make me think of mom the way she should be. To focus on the moments that remind me how lucky I am to have had a mom whose smile was as big as her heart.