READ THE BIG PIECES

One Year (and Two Days)

I’m a little late with this, but it’s been a rough couple of days…

Sunday marked one year that my mom was gone.

One year.

How the FUCK did that happen?

Sometimes, it feels like just yesterday, and others, it feels like it’s been forever.

Obviously, I still cry.  I cried on Sunday.  Yesterday, I finally removed my ICU nametag from the roof of my car.  I couldn’t bear to do it.  I still have my “spider butterfly” hanging on my visor (my mom had given my sister and I butterfly hair clips, black butterflies with silver spider webbing on it.  We wore them to her memorial service.  Halloween and butterflies.  Definitely and homage to mom).

I want my mom back.  It’s true, you don’t realize what you have until it’s gone.  She annoyed me (she was a mom, duh).  But she was always my go to for a pep talk…although hers were usually acidic lol  My mom pulled no punches.

It’s weird going through her house and incorporating some of her things into my home.  I can see my mom cringing at the disaster my house has become trying to find homes for everything.  LOL  I would ask her to come spend a few days, usually to watch the Widget while I was traveling for work.  Or just to spend time with us for a few days, and whenever I wasn’t around, she’d clean.  I’d come home and wonder if I walked into the right house!  It must be a mom-thing.  She would get offended if we came to spruce up a room or two at her place.

Like the time we wanted to move her from my brother’s old room ACROSS THE HALL to the room my sister and I used to share.  All we were going to do was paint it, vacuum and put her stuff in there.  She deserved a bigger room (she had traded rooms with my younger brother a few years ago…”all I do is sleep there” *sigh*).  She’d also be closer to the bathroom.  (The room my sister and I shared was actually considered the Master Bedroom, but my mom and dad chose the room at the top of the stairs so they could be the first line of defence against an intruder – and to stop anyone from trying to sneak in/out!  LOL)  She fought us tooth and nail and told us that she felt like we were judging her and saying she was a lousy house-keeper.  Oy

I miss her.  I miss her hugs.  I miss the way she used to stroke my hair when I was upset and laying on her lap.  That’s one of my earliest memories.  Laying on my mom’s lap, sleepy/sad and saying “do dis” and I stroked my hair back from my temple.  She always did that if we layed in her lap.  I do it to my little one (and friends’ little ones).  It’s very comforting.

I miss it.

I miss her laugh.  I miss the way she would snort when she laughed too hard.  Or fart.  LOL  She’d fart from laughing, go “I tooted!” laugh some more and fart some more.  It was hilarious. 🙂

I miss the way she’d call me on the phone, babble a bit and then say she was gonna let me go.  And then go, “ooh, one more thing…”  She’d do that about 5 or 6 times in the course of one phone call.

I miss the way her face would light up when the grandkids walked through the door. 

I miss the way she’d get embarrased at an off-color joke.  For all her years, she still played the “innocent”.

There are so many things I will miss…I’m not always sure how to handle the grief.  I mean, I was so little when my dad died, I have no idea how to handle losing a parent.  I know it’s a part of life.  A part of living life.

But it sucks ass.

Dirty, smelly, hairy ass. (she’d have laughed at that and then yelled at me for it).

I miss you, mama. 

I’ll always miss you.

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