After I lost my mom it almost felt like the world was counting on me to resemble her. Her passing was sudden, and I was the one breathing organism to show people that she is not completely gone. I felt that I needed to remind people of her essence and her aura. Although she passed when I was young, I used to feel this pressure to be the person she is (I do not like to say “was” because I truly believe her spirit will live on forever) and this was difficult for me. I wanted to keep her life alive and certainly wanted people to think of her in the forefronts of their minds as they saw me, but I did not want to be looked at with the “I feel like I’m looking right at Kori” face. I didn’t want people to start crying when they saw the way I could flare my nostrils, wiggle my toes, dance obnoxiously, or laugh just like her. I wanted to walk in the path that my mom crafted for me, but I did not want to walk in her path. I wanted to be my own person with my own goals and aspirations and my own creativity and passions. I have always had a desire to be independent and individualistic, and then I realized that I was wrong.
I was only 7 when the person who gave me life unfortunately took her own. Along with that, she took life from other people. She was the type of person that planted a seed within each person she met: she inspired life inside of strangers, peers, families, and people she loved. People always ask me if I remember her and to be quite honest, that is the most upsetting part of it all. Her presence was ripped from me as my body and personality were still developing. I had 7 years with her, but that is not enough for a daughter and mother to get to know each other. To be quite honest, I do not have too many memories of her.. I only remember small fragments of our life together. I remember her vibrant essence, her passion for people, and her ridiculous dancing. I remember her back tickles before I would go to sleep, and the way she would do her hair (when the occasion and time permitted). I remember her soft skin and lean figure and the way that I felt like I could squeeze her soooo tight and everything in the world would be okay. Luckily, the people that loved her most are always willing to gift me with stories and memories so I can envision her and build up the mommy that built me.
That is why I have decided that it is the biggest honor in the world to resemble my mom. I realized that I can still be intrinsically individualistic but always keep my mom’s spirit alive. I want to keep the seed that she planted in others alive and hopefully be able to show the beauty of her spirit through my mannerisms and my own life. I will continue to walk on my own path, but I may decide to journey my mother’s for inspiration from time to time. I will learn from my mother’s path. When did it lead her to gold? When did she have to take a u-turn? When did she stop and look around at the magic of nature at her fingertips? Now I question: how could I get upset if I remind people of someone incredibly beautiful, passionate, brilliant, and kind? I probably wouldn’t have even started this blog without the idea that she would love to read it and that her voice would come through my thoughts and words. So mom, I owe it all to you.