May God hold you when I cannot.

"May God hold you when I cannot."

My mom wrote those words in a letter to me for my senior retreat when I was 17 years old. I've loved them since. 

To me this sentence has a dual meaning: that God will take care of me when she is no longer around and that he will allow me to see her in places that let me feel held. 

So I'll look for her. And I'm sure I'll find her. And when I do, I'll know that both she and God are holding me. 

I'll look for her in the tallest cathedrals and in the discipline of the Catholic Church,  

in people who march for something they believe in and in the laughter of a mother and daughter spending time together. 

I’ll look for her in the sands of Destin and fajitas for two, in a good fight for anything worth fighting for and in the rugged hands of someone who made a living doing manual labor.

I'll look for her in my feet which look like hers, in her sisters that share her stature, in Corinthian chimes that sway in the breeze and in the tune of "Brown Eyed Girl". 

I'll look for her in the eyes of Ella, Ainsley, Ivah, and Millie and in the humor that William got from her, in the whites of her dog's eyes and in single red roses. 

I'll look for her in mail jeeps and in surprise hand-written notes, in my C-section scar and the first time William sees Mickey Mouse, in the sound of my brother's name and in the way my dad dances. 

I'll look for her in Hallmark ornaments of "The Wizard of Oz", and in "I Love Lucy" reruns and collectables, in backless slippers and our matching fluffy robes, in dry wit and at times when my sister-in-law encourages us to try something new. 

I’ll look for her in pedicures at nail salons and on the hammock outside, in bubble gum snowballs and Sesame Street Live. 

I’ll look for her in the Divine Mercy Chaplet and at the church in Prairie Ronde, at Mardi Gras parades and in gumbo by the fireplace, 

in the streets of the French Quarter and in the revelry of wedding receptions. 

I'll look for her in a mocha latte and in a big glass of Prisoner wine, 

on the days I feel defeated in my struggle to be a good mom and on the days that I hope she's proudly watching. 

And if you're looking for her too, I hope you find her every time. 

I hope that you find her in me. 

And I hope you feel held.