The annual un-decorate because Daddy goes back to work next week has been completed. All but the front porch and we will get that tomorrow. My house is somewhat back in order, other than some minor touch ups and vacuuming. Last night was spent with good friends, once again playing Quelf. To say it is the new favorite game in this house would be an understatement of epic proportions. I have also learned in our close quarters and daily ability to be in each other’s face my husband has some weird taste in movies. He has flipped through Netflix a gazillion times this week and each movie does one of 2 things. It deals with man vs. nature, ie: The gray or Area 407. Or it deals with Man vs man ie: a movie called Medium Raw. A criminally insane asylum has a power outage allowing the ‘residents’ to attack the civilian inside. Yeah picture that one in your head.
My kids have been fairly good for the most part. I have only had to remind them a few times the house was not their wrestling arena. Tomorrow we will be at Mom’s church for a little bit having Brody Wyatt dedicated. I think there is a symbolicness to that for me, especially it being the one year anniversary of Mom’s passing. I am pretty sure that the day she passed is the day she hand picked this baby to come busting into our lives. He smiles at her picture and talks to her as if he knows her, and does this thing with his tongue that Mom used to do with all the grandbabies when they were tiny. He does it whenever he sees her picture. He was sent to save me, us actually. To keep us from being wallowed down in the immenseness of her absence in our lives.
There are days it seems like she has been absent forever. As if it has been years and years since I heard her voice or heard her laugh. I worry, I worry because I want to hear her again so badly. I am afraid I will forget the sounds of her, the smells of her. I have her bag of clothing in my closet. The clothes she was wearing the day she went into the hospital. I can still bury my face in her shirt and inhale deeply and smell her there. I have some of her perfumes and I wear them, hoping they will remind me of her, but they don’t smell the same on me. I am afraid to walk into her church tomorrow. I have avoided it like the plague, because I just didn’t want to be washed over in her memory and her absence, especially there. But I will go, because it is the beginning of a new chapter.
I worry that I didn’t learn enough from her, on how to be a good grandma. Will my grandbaby adore me as much as hers did her? As much as I did me Memaw?? I don’t know but I can only hope. I never intended this to be a sad post. It is the beginning of a new year and I want to face it with hope and faith and choose to walk ahead. It is not going to be easy, but then nothing worth having is. I wish you all a happy and blessed New Year.