I know it’s been a while. I would sit down to write and my mind would go blank. Something it doesn’t do a lot of nowadays. Seems like everything I have tried to do right lately has gone completely wrong. Like my swap partner still hasn’t gotten her package from me, only this time it was on me. I transposed the numbers of her zip code. My post office puts the nifty tracking sticker over it and uses that to track the package. I told her it was at the post office waiting for delivery. It was. In Pershing, Indiana. Shoot me now. I am a person of my word and I have just had a time with this swap. No let me rephrase that I have had a time with brain power period. I have lost track of days at a time lately.
I have tried to get outside to keep my spirits up. We have done a lot of yard work, done some things we have wanted to do since moving up here. Even in the midst of cleaning, weeding, planting my mind wanders back to mom. I have her big flower pot on my porch and have filled it with the purple monkey face pansies mom loved.
We invested 40 bucks in a patio set for the front porch because I wanted places for people to sit when we do the big family get togethers.
I finally got my weeping willows I wanted and they are planted out front.
We also got a couple of fruit trees, apples and plum, and a raspberry and blueberry bush.
Gene has his fire pit usable now, and we put it to use Saturday. There was a nip in the air and the heat of the fire was wonderful. Yet in the midst of just relaxing with my kids and husband and good friends my heart skipped a beat. When I thought for a split second to call mom to come out and join us. Realizing that was impossible. Then further realizing that she had been gone 3 months that day. So long and yet not so long. Days tend to blur into one another anymore, I go go go to not face the absolute loneliness I feel trying to engulf me on this hill. I have put off making her DVD like the ones I made for my memaw, and daddy and aunt. Looking through the photos is still so painful for me.
What I find odd is that I have never had one dream about her. Not one. Especially considering for months after the loss of other loved ones they often filled my sleeping hours. Memories and some not, crazy stuff and not so crazy stuff. I worry because I don’t dream about her. I fear I am forgetting her too easy, then the tears come and I am fully here and aware that she is not.
My bff husband laughed when I said were mom here the other night she would undoubtedly be pinching the backs of his legs, taking great pride in picking with people. He laughed knowing I was right. I want a day where the tears don’t come. Where her name doesn’t make my heart wrench and my breath stop short. A day where I can remember her in laughter, can close my eyes and see her smile. When the scent of her perfume, or powder or shower gel doesn’t send me reeling. Considering my bathroom is now filled with stuff that was hers that may take a lot longer to get to.
Then there is her prayer plant. The one that I received when my stepfather passed away. That I nearly killed before she took it back from me. I would often forget to water it, then I put it on the front porch and would over water it and it got too much sun. She took it back and nursed it back to health and it grew. And Grew. AND GREW. It is currently in it’s 4th pot and weighs over 70 lbs easy. It is mine once again, and suddenly it thrives in my hands. Much like the ivy and plants out front. Like the rose moss that I attempted 3 years ago with NO SUCCESS. The plant mom swore I couldn’t NOT grow till I proved to her that I could. Gene tossed out the dead withered plant under our front deck. This year suddenly it took over. I mean literally. My front yard was taken over by it’s mossy growth and dainty flowers. I smile because I know mom had a hand in that. Unfortunately, it was also taking over my other plants. So I have pulled it down and back as much as possible.
My front flower beds are filled with daffodils and irises. Bleeding hearts and clematis and other flowers that mom loved and ones that I don’t have to replant year after year.
In the midst of all of this I have taken road trips, with my camera and sometimes a child. I have spent time with them. Talking about everything and letting them play with the expensive fancy camera. Learning that my youngest wants to be a photographer. My middle wants to be a chef and a doctor. Going to school and getting his degree in one to pay for the tuition of the other. I have let them take pictures of our road trips. Seeing what they find beauty in. Finding security in trusting my memories of similar road trips with mom. this has gotten long and I will write more later.. I will leave you with pictures of where I have been..