thinking of you

 It's finally snowing out mom! Anytime at all when it snows, I think of you and then I start to miss you. So, here I am writing to you.

I know you would LOVE the snow up here. You would be outside all excited. Maybe taking a walk with me in the snow or sitting in the office chairs looking out at the great view. We would make hot chocolate and you would put on something really yummy to cook and the smell would fill the whole house, maybe pot roast? mmmm.

So, today I'm gonna try to keep your winter joy alive. I'm gonna clean the house, cook something and watch the snow fall while wrapping Christmas gift.

But, the whole time, I will have a heavy heart...wishing you were here with me.

Today is for you mom!

Wish you were here ;)

I'm doing good. Or so I thought....

I spent days looking through old photos and even scrapbooked some (which makes me feel awesomely connected to my family, even though you are all mostly gone) 

I have been running around the house like a crazy person; cleaning, organizing and making what I have stretch and look pretty, just like you taught me mom....

So, I took everything out of the closet to reorganize it, something we never did. Lol. Til it was Christmas and we had to find all the burried decorations. 

And some photos of you fell on top of my head!!! And it LITERALLY hit me....

I really wish you were here, mom.

These are the most recent pictures I have of you. They were taken in April of 2009, and you died in November.

This is one of my favorite photos of you because you look soooo happy, mommy. 

I hope you are happy wherever you. 

I don't know the story behind this photo because I wasn't there. But I would like to caption it anyways: 

An ordinary day at work. It's lunchtime and Kelly brought you lunch and then snapped a few candids of you trying to hide ( silly mom, you were beautiful) and playing around with skylar. I bet it was a slow day, but good. And you came home to me. And I realllly hope that I reminded you just how much I loved you and needed you. And we had yummy dinner together. 

Wish you were here mommy. 

 

Beach blues

As I lay here in the sand and I listen to the  people chatting and the waves coming in, I just can't believe the last time I wrote to you was over a month ago. 

It feels like an eternity to me. An eon. Forever.... 

I'd like to tell you that I haven't chatted with you because I've been extra busy with school and volunteering, which I have been doing...but that's not the truth, at least not the whole truth. 

The truth is that I miss you. I miss you so much that it hurts. And I have been running from the pain. 

But, I'm back. 

Today I woke up and played with the guinea pigs (best, cutest pet ever! Why did we never have any?) then Lauren and I went to walk around the presque isle days! I saw this cute necklace I would get you, it was beach glass, then I saw a wreath we would love!!! 

There are a million things I wish I could call and tell you. I miss your voice. I feel like I might know what you would say to me, but I don't know for sure. 

I feel like there are things about you I am forgetting. Like what were your thoughts on GMOs in food? Did I ever know? 

I feel like we had a great relationship and talked about everything under the stars. You were my first best friend, and still were til the day you died.

Why am I forgetting? Why didn't I listen more? Better. Longer? 

There is so much I don't know or don't remember. 

Nevertheless I love you tons and lots! 

I think you would have loved the beach today. It was terrific. Not too hot, but warm enough to swim, and perfect weather to smile big and remember YOU!!!!

Am I the woman you wanted be to grow into?

Mom, there is just so much you are missing in my life. How am I supposed to know if I'm making the right choices? You are the person who always led me in the right direction. How do I know if I'm becoming a good woman? You were always there to guide me and remind me of the important things: family comes first, give back always, don't forget where you came from...etc. I know you trained me well. But this is really hard. 

It's really hard to move forward in my life without you. I never imagined that I would have to do it all without you. 

I wasn't done learning yet mom. Why did you have to go? 

Well, I'm still doing scouts. This picture is from a recent encampment where I dressed up as a knome. It's important to share you gifts with the world (I'm great with children, you would say) and give back, so I still am. 

This is my upstairs neighbor kid. He is my little buddy. Sometimes, I watch him while his mom is at work, cus helping people out is a good thing. Paying it forward kinda. If there weren't some really good people in the world who helped our family out way back when, things would have been a lot different, you used to say. 

Still besties with my Jessjess. I love her to death. I wasn't always good at making friends, so when I connected with her, you told me to always be a best friend. Those are hard to come by you would say. Anytime we would argue, you would bust in the room and say, just make up already...you're best friends and life is short. I think we do make up pretty dad t these days, mom. So thanks! 

This is me volunteering to help make meals for the Erie coilition!!!! Always a happy helper! 

This is Lauren. Sorry if you don't regconize her, she has changed into a completely different woman than that little kid we used to know. She is...well I'm sure you know, but I'm not sure what to do, you aren't here to guide me on this one...hmmm. 

I'm trying to get out there and have fun experiences. You were preaching YOLO years before they started putting on every piece of clothing. This is from the hard rock in Ohio. You would have loved it 

This is also from cleavland ohio. Fun times! I actually leaned on this guitar about five mins before this pic and the whole thing fell over!?!? Only my daughter you would say. Lol

So, am I the woman you thought I would become? Am i doing a good job? 

This is something special Lauren and I did for you mom...I wrote you a letter, remember???

And we tied it to balloons. 

That we wrote our happy memories on. Man, we had so many, I thought I might need a million balloons. Remember the snap jar? Doing our nails? Opening all the windows to smell the snow? 

Then we let go of them... And sent the letter up to you in heaven. It was a great way to remember all the fun times we had. And a great way to remind me of how much I love you, as if Id ever forget. 

Sometimes I worry that I am selfish. I feel guilty. In the short time you were here with me, we had such a great,close, good relationship. We barely ever argued. And if we did, we always resolved it. But in that time, we learned a lot. We were sooo close. And we made a million memoroes that I would never trade for the world. 

Then, I think...some people have mothers and will never experience an once of the love that we had. Some people didn't get THaT much time with their special loved one, and here I am belly aching that I miss you and I want more. Shouldn't a million memories be enough? But they aren't. They just aren't. 

It still feels unfair. Too short. And I feel like a rotten person for needing more. Am I selfish? Should I just let you go and be happy with what we had? 

I pretend like I'm through grieving you: I remember the good times in my heart and I don't think about the rest, but it's getting hard. 

Because I still miss you. I still have questions. And I still feel selfish. 

So, am I a woman you would be proud of? 

Am I selfish for wanting more? 

I love you mom!!!!!!!!! More than more than more than more than more times infinity plus....infinity*5,000, ha! Beat that!

Things you loved

Thinking of things you loved, mom. Some things I can't remember. Like, did you have a favorite flower? I'm sure you did, but what was it? Did you have a favorite kind of tree? Or a favorite state you always wanted to visit, but didn't get to? See, some things, I just don't know....

So, here is a list of what I do remember....

Favorite things of MOM

1. Favorite color: Hunter green  & grey 
2. Favorite season: Winter
3. Favorite precipitation: SNOW!!!!
4. Favorite song: Tim Mcgraw please remember me
5. Favorite old school band: Heart
6. Favorite author: V.C. Andrews 
7. Favorite food: steak, probably 
8. Favorite ice cream flavor: Mint Chocolate Chip 
9. Favorite clothing item: Red Grumpy T-shirt 
10. Favorite thing to do: Camp with me 

Bar soap

Remember that time aunt wanda was visiting and she washed with the bar soap in the tub a little "too deep" and she was all burny feeling? 

Well mom, I think that soured me on bar soap as a child. Although this morning I believe I rediscovered it...I love bar soap. It's just so...CLEAN. 

This is one of the many many things that roll through my head in a given day, and I want to share them with you. 

I wish you were here. 

I can imagine you laughing at me about this story and thinking, "only my daughter". I can imagine you mailing me a box full of soap bars, just to support my new found showering love. That's just how you were...

A loving supportive mom!

Mothers & Daughters

"it's a strange moment when your child begins to walk and talk exactly the way you do"- Kattrin Davida

People would often stop me on the street, or in the supermarket, and even at school to tell me that I look just like my mom. I've heard them all: "you're a mini Anne", "wow! you're a spitting image of your mother", "holy cow, it looks like your mom just spit you right out", "No denying she's your mom, eh?". And no matter how old I got, I always disliked being told I looked like my mom. 

It's not that she was ugly. Or, I didn't want to be like her, entirely. But, I just wanted to be my own person, have my own style, and not look exactly like my mother. I would always smile kindly at people, but later I would scoff and roll my eyes. 

Now, that I am older, and my mother has passed, I am so thankful that I look just like her. Actually happy. It means that everyday I have a little piece of her with me. 

For years after her death, I was convinced that I was the most terrible person because I hated looking like her as a child. I just knew that I made her so sad by copping an attitude and making her feel like she was not beautiful. But, the truth is, I am proud to be my mother's daughter up and down, inside and out. I am happy that I have absolutely NOTHING from my father, and I'm glad that for years to come, I will be able to sport this "baby face" and be carded in many, many bars far after my peers. 

Moreover, if anyone is going through what I went through, and continue to struggle with, I would just like to let them know....you are NOT alone. 

And, don't sweat the little things, don't spend your time analyzing every little thing that you did with your lost loved one....because in the end, it is far more rewarding to remember all the good times, than it will ever be to harbor such guilt.