Amidst the celebrations of Mother's Day, DJ managed to sneak away for a moment to herself. She quietly went upstairs to her bedroom, being sure to lock the door behind her.
She bent down to reach under her bed, retrieving an old wooden box from under it. On the box were hand painted pink roses and the wood was faded and scratched with age.
Even simply looking at the box was enough to withdraw emotions from the woman. DJ sat down on her bed and opened the box. The inside was covered in pink velvet and contained items closest to her heart. Items that belonged to her mother.
There was her white hairbrush that still contained a few strands of blonde hair. Some of DJ's earliest memories consisted of watching her mother standing in the bathroom mirror brushing away at her blonde waves. As a tiny girl, she could remember marveling at how beautiful her mother was and hoping that she too would grow up to be just as beautiful as her.
Also in the box was a shimmering opal round shaped necklace on a delicate gold chain. This necklace belonged to her mother as well and brought back countless memories of sitting snuggled in her lap whenever she was sad, scared, sleepy, or simply craving her mother's affection. DJ would play with the necklace around her mother's neck while Pamela would hold her in her arms, rocking her gently while singing a tune.
So far, she's only worn the necklace on a few very special occasions. Her graduation from university, her wedding day, and the birth of her children. Other than that, it remained safely tucked away where nothing could happen to it.
The box also contained an old Polaroid photo. In the photo was a smiling DJ cuddled closely on the couch with the late Pamela Katsopolis Tanner who mirrored the same smile. She remembered this well. DJ was 8 years old when the photo was taken and the two were smiling at something Stephanie, 3 years old at the time, had done. The sound of the woman's contagious laughter faded further from her memory as the years went by. She missed it so desperately.
Underneath the photograph were piles of little miscellaneous notes that Pamela had written that DJ chose to keep. Some of them were as simple as grocery lists or chores that needed to be done, and another was one of the last notes Pamela had left in DJ's lunchbox.
The note read "My sweet oldest daughter, Have a wonderful day at school. I know you'll make me proud, just like you always do." There were also little doodles of hearts and flowers that Pamela knew would make her smile.
"I know you'll make me proud" Pamela wrote.
Now that she was gone, DJ could only hope that she would be proud of her if she could see her now. She hoped that she would be proud of all three of her daughters and all that they have accomplished in life. Was it everything she'd hoped for, beyond her wildest dreams?
She thinks of her sons and the mother that she has become, and there are times, the good and the bad, when her heart so desperately aches for her mother even more so. DJ always tried to do her very best, just like Pamela did. Their personalities were similar in that way. Would she be proud of the mother that DJ has become? What would she say? What kind of advice would she give?
DJ picked up the Polaroid, holding it closely to her chest and closing her eyes for a moment. In her mind, she envisioned her mother sitting right next to her, squeezing her shoulders like she used to when she was a little girl to let her know she did a good job. She envisioned that radiant smile, those warm and loving eyes staring back at her. Oh how she missed her mother.
She opened her eyes, wiping away a few stray tears that fell and took another look at the photo. "Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I love you. I hope I'm making you proud"
The day so far had been cloudy but in that moment a ray of sunlight peeking from the clouds shined straight in through the bedroom window.
A warmth suddenly stirred within DJ, though she couldn't quite describe the sensation with words, she knew in that moment that her mother was there.
And she was proud.