Deep Thoughts

I have now lived longer without my mother than I did with her.

It hit me hard just before my birthday, and I was pretty nervous about the actual date approaching (because I like to torture myself and used an online date calculator to actually figure out the exact date.) I have been busy, so I have not dwelt on it, which is good. I want a few moments now to journal and reflect and perhaps reveal some of my neurosis to the blogger world.

I turned 18 on June 14, 1991. My mom died on September 2, 1991. I am now 36, the age she was when she was first diagnosed with breast cancer. Loosing her made me grow up. I was a typical self-centered teenage bitch before that. If, before I was 18, I had to tell you my biggest fear, it would have been loosing my mom. Then it happened. And I survived. And I laughed again. And I had fun again. And life went on. Sure I cried a lot. I remember at one point wondering if I would cry every day for the rest of my life…then if I would cry every week…then if I would cry every month…or special occasion. I am sure that I will cry every Mother’s Day, even though I am now a mother myself and it is my day, it is still a day that she will at the forefront of my mind.

I was a pretty nervous kid. I worried a lot. As an adult, I am much more laid back than the norm, and if I have to look on the bright side of losing my mom at a young age, that would be it. I know that even if the worst thing I can possibly imagine happening were to happen, I would be OK. When you put it in perspective, the little things that stress us out aren’t really all that important.

No, it was not “God’s will” that my mom die. She did not die so that I could learn to be more chill. I do find solace, though, in knowing that we will be reunited someday. That is how Caroline understands death, too, and for that I am thankful. She knows that she has two grandmas that she never got to meet. She knows that they are with God and she tells me that she’ll meet them when Jesus returns, and that she’ll her grandpa then, too.

I look back on how much I have changed since I was 18, and my mom would not know me now. I have changed so much. The letters she wrote my sister and me were very different. Mary’s (even though Mary was only 15) talks about what a wonderful mother she will be. That was not in my plans at 18, so my mom encouraged me in my education and career. That is what I needed to hear at the time, of course. Here I am now, mom of two girls, staying home with them just as she did with us. I would not trade the years she spent with us for the world, so I am thankful I have these years at home with my girls.

Half my life. Wow.
Miss you mommy!