Firsts, we all have them. Our first step, our first kiss, our first time. Today, Easter Sunday, is a first for my brothers and me. Today marks the first holiday without our Mom.

Holidays had become just another day. At least that's the way they felt to me before today. In fact, if anything, I would grumble that I had to drive all the way to Boston to take out my Mom and meet my family. Grumble I am still doing but not for the same reasons.

The significance of this day is only the beginning of what will be a long string of firsts. First of which I would like to do away with.

I have been thrown into a tailspin from the loss of my Mom. A new phase of my life has begun. I am a Motherless Daughter. Another first. Firsts as a child were looked upon with great anticipation. Your first bike, your first day at school, your first best friend. Happy firsts! But life is not all happy firsts as today surely proves. There is a sobering reality about this first. I had always envisioned holidays to be as you see them on television. Few ever lived up to that vision. Yet last Christmas with Mom did. That holiday too was a first. Not only was it the first time I truly felt that my Mom was proud of me, but it lived up to the movie script in my mind's eye. It was magical.

Now, after experiencing what a holiday is suppose to be, suppose to feel like, I find my self back to the emptiness of just another day. A loneliness that I can not shake, a void that no one can fill.

We gathered together last evening, three adult men and five adult women. The Daly family. The kind of family that you would wish for. A family that was proud to be together, that really wanted to be together, that enjoyed each other's company. Just like on television. But this time it wasn't make believe. This time it was real. We ate, we drank, laughed and we cried. Mom and Dad couldn't be there. God, or whomever it is who decides these things, had other plans for them. But in a strange, comforting way, both of them were there. They were in our faces, our mannerisms, our eyes, and our hands. They were there in the history of this restaurant. They were there in the stories we would tell and the way that we would tell them. The table was set for eight, but there were ten people gathered there last night.

So, today marks the first holiday without them. There is a sadness that shadows this holiday knowing that this first won't be the last.

Copyright © 2002 Pat Daly. All rights reserved.

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