It is here...

One month ago, mom left this world and went to Heaven.

Wow. So much has happened in this month that I want to tell her. Like, Landon lost his first tooth, he joined Boy Scouts and I became his Den Leader. Sam's grandma died, and I became the last Mrs. H on our side of the family until our boys marry. Sassy died. Fall has arrived. Landon is going to be Boba Fett, Parker a dinosaur, and Alta a strawberry for Holloween. I have picked tons of apples from our our tree and have made pies, and am going to can some. Landon is doing great in school. The kids have a cold. Parker may have an ear infection. Alta goes back to Cardinal Glennon in October.

I want to gossip about Private Practice and Grey's Anatomy. I want to talk about Ian winning Big Brother. I want to talk about her opinion on the new shows this fall.

I want to ask her so many things. Like, what should I get the kids for Christmas? Which way is better to take care of her spouse, my step-dad? How, again, did you make cabbage rolls? Sam would love some. Who is in this picture? Are you proud of me? Do you miss me up in Heaven? Are you telling Grandma Alta about my own Alta, your only granddaughter? Is she proud?

A month later, I still have the urge to call her. I still get butterflies and think the nightmare is over when 'Mom' shows up on my cell phone, only it isn't mom, it is my step dad.  I just want to talk one more time.

It is coming...

The 26th is coming. A month since mom left. A month without her advice. A month that my kids grew and mom didn't get to witness it.

I haven't been blogging. I've been down in the dumps.

2 weeks after mom died, Sam's grandma died. This past Friday, my cat, whom I have had since I was 11, had to be put to sleep. I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. I will try to resume blogging at a more frquent pace again. It is just hard right now.

The Nights Are the Worst

The nights are the worst. I sit and think and remember. I cry and beg God to help me. I don't sleep. I just think.

My mother died on August 26, 2012. 9 days, a counting of days that no one wants to count. But as each day passes, another day goes by without my mother. How can that be? A world without my mom? I used to think that was impossible. My mom would never die, or if she did, I would be old and gray, not 25 with 3 young kids. I deserve to still have my mother, my sister and brother deserve to still have their mother.

 It was a senseless death. A death that was, in many ways, preventable. My mother was an excellent mother, an excellent woman. She was all forgiving and loved everyone for who they were. She was the greatest grandmother any child could want. She gave back scratches and hugs and Zebra Cakes. She was a great cook, a great comforter, a great listener.  She gave without mention of receiving. She made holidays memorable. She was a great Christian. I miss her terribly.

My kids, ages 6, 3, and 14 months, will only have vague, if any, memories of her. Alta, especially, won't remember how she sounded, how she smelled, how she felt, how great her hugs were. They won't be able to pack a bag and go stay the night with maw-maw. They won't get to sing silly little kid songs with her.

What they will have are my memories. I will keep mom alive, in my mind and stories, so my kids can know and remember this wonderful woman that I was blessed to call my mom.

My family is in an emotional hurricane. We are grasping onto each other so we don't drown. Mom was our rock, our beautiful rock that is no more. We are now becoming each others' rocks, grounding each other to life and hopefully, someday, happiness again. Mom is gone, but we still have each other, we will get through this trying time. But we will never forget her. Her lessons on life and love are with me always, and I hope to instill those values into my own kids. I know, if I am  half the mom my mom was, then my kids will be fine.

I miss you, Mom. I love you. And my kids will know you through me until my last breath.