I need to see a ladybug.

There are days that you mark in history and whether you are aware of it at the time, they change you forever. Some we share with a few persons. Some, like September 11, 2001, we share with the entire world.  Some, are just our own.

 

 I was a few months shy of being 13.  I answered the phone to find out that my mother, who had in essence not been living with us for some time, was not doing well.  I say that she wasn't living with us, not because of a separation between my parents but she had been in the City of Hope Hospital in Duarte California for some time.  My mother had cancer.

 

 I remember some things.  I remember driving with my mother and little sister in the car and I remember a big lump, like a golf ball, on my mothers left arm.  That night, when my mom and dad were talking, was the first time I recall hearing the word cancer.   I remember my mom laying on the couch in our front room.  My mother wanted a fruit salad and we were all preoccupied with our own activities to walk to the market around the corner.  A short time later I answered a knock at the door to find Mrs. Butler, a neighbor at the other end of the block, with a bowl of fresh fruit salad for my mother.  I remember my mother starting to cry and quietly say, "He always knows", when I gave it to her.  It took me a long time to understand what she meant.  

 

I remember July 30th, 1977.  I remember sitting on a swing porch in my Aunt Barbara's backyard with my dad and sister.  I recall hearing the words and wondering why God didn't like me.  I prayed the entire night, crying and begging Him, and He didn't listen.  "She's gone", my father repeated to me.   

I don't recall how it started.  Somehow ladybugs became synonymous with my mother and my need to know she was watching over me.  It started years ago and continues to today.   When my girls were little, I don't recall what was going on, but I was having a really bad day.  I had taken the girls to my local grocery store and was feeling anxious, it had been a bad day.   When we got to the cashier at the front of the store, she looked kindly at the girls and asked me if she could give the girls some stickers.  I said sure and the next thing I knew, I was looking at my daughters and found myself smiling.  The cashier had placed ladybug stickers on their foreheads.  

 

I haven't seen a ladybug yet.  I'm waiting.  I know it will bring me comfort, and for me, it will make me know that my mother is taking care of me.