She never judges.
She always loves.
She makes me laugh.
She lets me cry.
She knows that I am hurting, but also that I am trying my best to live day by day. She helps me clean my house. She folds my laundry. She irons my blazer. She brings me food. She sends me cards.
She takes me to dinner.
She feeds my cats.
She misses Rick right along with me.
She is one of the things in life that never vacillates. I can always count on her. I can always call her.
Rick always loved my mom. He used to shake his head at how alike my mom and I were. He used to laugh at us. He would always give her a hug. Always pick out gifts for her birthday or for Mother's Day weeks in advance. He would always tell people, "Arielle's mom is a sweetheart."
He would roll his eyes at her silly ways...but mostly because they reminded him so much of my own silly ways.
He felt accepted by her. Loved by her. Almost to the point of not understanding how she could love and accept him so readily, so easily, and so happily. He never wanted to disappoint.
He loved her art. He loved her food. He loved her gifts.
He started off loving her because he knew what she meant to me, but very quickly loved her for who she was on her own.
I know with 100% certainty that Rick knew I would be supported and cared for by my mom when he decided to take his own life. He knew I would be okay. He knew I would call her and she would come. He knew she would help me until I could stand on my own.
What he may not have known is how very much she would miss him too.