Forever Under My Skin

For six mornings, I’ve woken to the thought that my mother is no longer with us. It’s something I’ve had to fathom with deep breaths. This morning, I woke with the thought that this is the day we’ll lay my mother to rest, and though I know it makes no sense at all, I told myself I never thought I’d see this day.

In honor of my mom, we tuned in to the Frank Sinatra station on Pandora. She loved to listen to Frank Sinatra, especially when he sang accompanied by Carlos Jobim.

I smiled when the first song began to play: “I’ve Got You Under My Skin.”

There were many times throughout my life that my mother and I got under each other’s skin. In fact, the last time I saw my mom in a conscious state, only a few weeks before her death, we argued about something stupid–everything is stupid after you’ve lost someone.

Frustrated that I couldn’t convince my mom of my side of the “argument,” I told her it was time for me to leave for Dallas, and I walked out of her room. I’m so grateful that something made me turn around and go back. I told her I didn’t want her to worry about anything, that I’d take care of it, and I’d even do as she requested, even though inside, I disagreed with her. But, something told me it wasn’t important.

I told her I loved her.

So this morning, when I heard the words to “I’ve Got You Under My Skin,” I smiled, believing it was my mother’s way of telling me she’d always be with me.

I’ve got you under my skin
I’ve got you deep in the heart of me
So deep in my heart that you’re really a part of me
I’ve got you under my skin