Still missing my Mother

You would think I would have stopped missing my mother by now. She was 70 years old when she died in 1997.  That's 17 years. I don't cry when I pass the Hallmark Store around Mothers Day anymore, But I still wish I could send her a card or call her on the phone.
I'd tell her how proud I was to be her daughter.
 I'd thank her for faithfully lifting me up in prayer. I think that's one thing I miss the most -- knowing that someone is praying for you every day gives great comfort.
I'd ask her about a few recipes -- I always used to call when I was fixing supper and forgot how to make one of her yummy dishes.
I'd thank her for always fixing all my favorites at Christmas, even when she wasn't feeling well.
I'd tell her all about her wonderful grandchildren. No one thinks they are as special as their Grammie. She would be so proud of them.
I'd thank her for all the times she came to see me -- even in Alaska -- even when the chemo had sapped all her strength. Just having her at my house, even when she was too sick to get up -- just filled my house with sunshine.
I miss her celebrations and picnics, and her voice in the church choir, and the fragrance of "Passion"  that she always wore. I miss the big family gatherings around her table  -- and laughing until we could hardly breathe. I miss her soft hugs. I miss the stories she read over and over to the grand kids.
I miss seeing her reading her Bible every morning when we got up -- she was always an early riser.
I wish I could ask more questions about trees and flowers and family history.  She knew so much!
She was such an example to us -- always encouraging -- and alway ready to go shop or eat out or go to church. She truly had a servants heart, but she also had mine. I am thankful for the promise of Heaven! A mother's love it truly a gift from God.