Two years ago today my mom died. It was such a sad day, but we were all able to say goodbye to her and that gave us closure. Last year, on the anniversary, we celebrated and it was a sad day. Today was different. I remembered her, I thought about her, I wore her favorite color, yellow, (thanks for the reminder Melanie,) and we ate her favorite thing – Chinese Food – for dinner.
It wasn’t a sad day. It was actually a good day. A happy day spent with friends and family.
I posted a picture of mom and me on Facebook this morning and wrote, “I can’t believe that today is two years. Missing you mom.” I was just remembering. Just honoring her today. The response was huge. Everyone sending their love and memories of her. People checking in on me and our family, but truly, we are doing well. We all are. We think about her everyday. Memories of her pop up everywhere. She is always around us and that brings us comfort.
I truly wasn’t sad today. When I woke, the first thing I wanted to do was go back and read my blog from that awful week in March 2013. I lay in my bed and read on my ipad. I read each day from when she stopped breathing on March 8th until the funeral on March 21st. That was it. Then, I got up and went on with the rest of the day.
That’s exactly what she would have wanted. No sitting around weeping for her. She would have hated that. Life goes on. Our memories of her will last forever and she is always with us. ❤
I think I have a little bit of a hoarding problem. My coworkers and I joke that as teachers, we feel the need to save everything, “just in case.” Every once in awhile, I get inspired to purge and throw things away but I still find myself with way too much paper work and “stuff.” This even carries over to technology. I am always getting notifications that my email and voicemail boxes are full and I have to go through and pick and choose what needs to be deleted. Today, I noticed that I had A LOT of voicemails. Old ones, new ones, important ones, insignificant ones, too many to count. Among them, I found several from my mom! I hadn’t remembered that they were there. I listened to them today. None of them were more than fifteen seconds, and they all began the same way all of her messages did, “Hello, its only me…” None of them were about anything too important either. Just her checking in, or saying hello.
She and I spoke every single day. Usually more than once. Our conversations were rarely of importance, just, “how was your day,” or “what are you making for dinner?” I’d call for a recipe or she’d call to check in on the kids. It didn’t matter what we were talking about. I guess it was just hearing each others voice that brought both of us comfort. As I have written so many times before, I wish so much that if only I could still just pick up the phone to say hi. I wonder what I’d say to her if I had that chance?!?
As I listened to the messages today, I realized that there is a void – a sound missing in my life. Her voice. I have to find a way to save those messages. Knowing that they are there, and that I can listen to her anytime I need to hear her voice is comforting to me. It is a part of her that can’t leave me now because, now, I have her voice!!
It has been six months since my mom died. 184 days. I still think about her everyday. I still miss her daily phone calls. This morning, DJ and I went to 9:30 mass with my dad. It was a regular Sunday Mass, but the prayer intention was for my mom. Deacon John, a friend of our family announced her name and after mass, as he processed down the aisle of Our Lady of Sorrows, he warmly put his hand on my dad’s shoulder. A very small gesture, but a very meaningful one.
Mom, the biggest lover of holidays has missed so many of them already. St. Patrick’s Day, Easter, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, 4th of July, numerous birthdays – including my own, and hers. She missed her beloved Duck Race. So many important dates that have come and gone without her here. We have so many memories of those days with her so many important moments in our lives. At mass this morning the refrain to one of the songs we sang was, “Long have I waited for your coming home to me me and living deeply our new life.”
It made me think of our new lives. Our lives without her. Yesterday, after attending the funeral of a friend’s father, a friend came up to me to ask me how I was doing. She told me that her mom has been gone for over 18 years, and not a day goes by without her thinking about her. Whether it is something big , or a small trigger, she is always in her thoughts. This made me smile and tear up at the same time. I want to remember her and all of the good times that our family had because of her. I want these memories to be of healthier times and not during her last few years when every step and every breath was a struggle.
Six months later, I am actually writing this without crying. A bit teary yes, but also a relieved knowing that she is not struggling anymore and that she is with us all of the time now. In our hearts and in our memories. In the little things and actions my kids do that were traits of my mom’s. Each day gets a little bit easier and hearing stories about her from friends and families, where we can laugh and reminisce are so welcome.