Last night I watched basketball. College basketball. Along with a few million other people, I watched Duke and Gonzaga battle out to go to March Madness’ final four.

I am not normally a big basketball fan. I used to watch with my mom. She was the sports fan in my household when I was growing up, and I learned everything I know from sports watching basketball and football with her.

After I grew up and moved out, I didn’t watch much college Bball, but every year when it was March Madness time, I’d start watching games, and we’d talk about them by phone. Since March Madness runs for month, generally there would be at least one weekend a month I’d make to Richmond where we could watch them together.

She particularly loved ACC basketball, and even more particularly the Tobacco Road teams, UNC, NC State, and Duke. And even more particularly, Duke and Coach K. SO watching the game last night was more an exercise in remembering Mom than watching the game itself.

That’s the way it is nowadays. It’s been a little over a year since my mother died, and just a few months since my father passed. Every where I go, things remind me of them. Two days ago I went to shoot some pictures in an antique shop. I went to shoot an amazing collection of old bottles in the light, but the thing that I remember was a left handed typewriter, because my mom was left handed.

Now that I some time away, I still miss them both, but it is not as painful a missing. And there is a mix of sadness and loss, combined with an even stronger sense of joy and appreciation for what they brought to my life.

More and more, I realize the things that are staying with me are polar opposites. My house is full of things that bring to mind my father – restored furniture, odd antiques, mechanical things. But the things of my mom are relational things – spirituality, thoughtfulness, gentleness. I rarely think of something I want to share with my dad when I walk through life, but each and every day, something sparks a thought that I would like to share with mom.

I am glad the pain is lessening. For a long time I was not sure it would. It was so acute. And the pain seemed to go on and on. But lessen it has, and with it, a deeper appreciation of both my parents’ strengths and weaknesses, their humanness, and what parts of their humanness I carry in my own life.

It’s made me more aware of what I will leave behind for my own kids. What will they take from my life. Things? Stuff? Relational things? Attitudes? Spirituality? I doubt my parents really knew what they would leave behind, and I don’t either. I know what I hope they will take from my life, but what they take is more about them, than me. So only time will tell.

I think it’s ironic. As a young person, being with my parents every day, I really didn’t think of them that often. And now that they are gone, I think of them every day.

It is good to move past the worst of the grief. Not just to let go of the pain, but because it has opened me up to a new place of gratitude. A different kind of gratitude that can only be felt, I think, with loss. But where ever it comes from, gratitude is a beautiful thing, empowering and joy giving.

Yet one more thing they left me with.

Duke won. My mom would be happy. And yes, I’ll likely watch the next game, and remember her, again and again.

Tom