Happy Birthday, Mom

Happy 56th Birthday, Mom. We miss you...

Treasures

On my birthday a family friend found a box of photo albums and scrapbooks belonging to my mom. I have been working my way through them and they appear to be from her childhood, college years and young married years before she had kids. There are things like spelling papers and report cards, artwork and awards, her National Honors Society Certificate. There are lots of newspaper articles, one very bizarre collage and a few cards and letters. My favorite things, though are the photos. There are some priceless pictures of her from babyhood to young adult and I have already started scanning some of them. Some of my favorites include a family photo at my great grandparents' 50th Wedding Anniversary, a very old photo of my Grandaddy in uniform from his time in the navy (1940s) and a portrait of my mom at 16. She looks gorgeous.

There is something innately comforting about sifting through these precious pieces of paper and pictures that makes me feel more connected to my mom. Although it makes me sad that I can't share the experience with my mom, it is still something precious for me to cling to in my sorrow. It's amazing how desperately one begins to cling to one's heritage when you are suddenly faced with losing large chunks of it.

This is another photo I like taken in

August of 1974, of the staff at Country Lake Camp, a children's summer camp run my grandparents. Appearing here are my Nana and Grandaddy, my mom, my dad, my aunt, my uncle and another "aunt" aka family friend. It was taken the month before my parents got married.

Last Year on this day...

I miss her so much...

The Little Child Inside

When I was a little kid my parents would go away sometimes for a week or ten days or even a long weekend. The time away was good and important for them, but I hated it. I missed my mom so much I would cry myself to sleep every night. Every day seemed to drag on and time seemed to slow down. I just wanted her to come home and make me feel loved and safe again.

I turn 28 tomorrow, no longer a little child, but I still have those same feelings sometimes. I want to curl up and cry each night and beg my mom to come home and be here for me again. Then a week seemed like an eternity. How much worse now is an entire lifetime to endure.

It's funny how time plays tricks on us. You blink and so much seems to have passed and yet other days, other weeks feel like an eternity. October 29, 2008 felt like the longest day of my life. Though it physically possessed the same 24 hours as any other day, emotionally and psychologically I experienced that day much, much longer than most others in my life. Similarly the week that followed seemed like months, an entire lifetime as I was overly aware of every passing minute. It makes me wonder about heaven, about eternity. If I am able to grasp how time can be different in two separate days, perhaps I can understand, if only a little, how God works outside of time. Small comfort, unfortunately, I'm still the small child crying inside for her mommy.

Birthday Blues

I know that each milestone after a death or a tragedy is difficult. Every holiday or "first"without the loved one in a painful reminder of that loss. I know that in my head, but it doesn't make it any easier. Thursday is my birthday and I know it is going to be incredibly painful. My mom was one of those people who made birthdays really special. She went over the top to make sure that you received as many of the gifts you wanted plus extras, a fantastic birthday dinner of your favorite foods and a cake of your choice. Last year she had a friend pick up Cheesecake Factory Cheesecake from Costco because that's what I really wanted. She was thoughtful like that, eager to please because she loved to bring joy to those she loved.

This year my birthday falls on a Thursday, the same day of the week that I was born. Unfortunately it's a work day and that means the little celebration we will have won't be until the evening. My dad is grilling me steaks with sides, my husband is supposed to pick up a dessert. I'll probably get a couple gifts and I'm sure my dad will have an excellent bottle of wine or two which will hopefully help numb the awful hole in my heart. The rest of the day will be harder, though. There's nothing like a long day to contemplate what you're missing.

I did get a little surprise party from my brother and sister-in-law when we visited and that meant a lot. My sister-in-law seems to have a knack for surprises and cheering people up and her efforts, while unable to replace my mom were thoughtful, special and comforting.

As a child one is often disappointed when one doesn't receive the perfect gift for birthday or Christmas, but it's a disappointment easily forgotten, easily soothed. It passes you by after a while. All I want for my birthday (Okay I do want a new camera but it's a far second) is my mom back and it's the one thing I can't have...not now, not next year, not any time on earth. The worst part is that the one thing I can't have cannot be forgotten because she is the one person who could make me forget what I wanted...the endless cycle of wanting and not having. It's a confusing blur or reasoning and grief.

The Idiot Jerk who added to my nightmares

We arrived home from our long road trip in the wee hours last night. There is a lot to process, but for now all I'll say is the hardest part of the trip occurred only a couple hours from home. Around one in the morning Chris was driving and spotted a drunk driver speeding along behind us. He got as far away from the truck as soon as he spotted it and then we observed it for a couple minutes. I don't know if I've ever seen a drunk driver before or not. I've seen some pretty stupid drivers in my time but as dumb as they were and as angry as they made me I was never as fearful as I was of this driver. He sped up and slowed down for no apparent reason, couldn't stay between the lines and pulled sharply in and out of lines in a frightening way, often switching from an empty lane to one with a car just ahead. He almost hit other cars at least twice. We called 911 and reported it and then we made sure to hang back where we couldn't be hit. A couple minutes later he went to take the exit and there was momentary frustration at the thought of him getting away followed by the inevitable accident. I think somehow I knew it was going to happen. He drifted right into the guard rail sheering the right side of his truck. We called 911 for the second time in five minutes, but kept on driving. It didn't look like a serious accident and we did not want to mess with that guy. If he's lucky he'll just need some body work, a new mirror and a paint job...not that he'll be driving any time soon assuming they apprehended him. We saw the cops headed for the accident minutes later and can only hope the idiot didn't try to drive off in his banged up truck.

Yes, I hate drunk drivers and this incident was frightening and anger inducing. The hardest part though was the sound of the accident. Even from 4 lanes over and a little ways back with all the noise of the highway I still heard the horrible grating noise of metal on metal, a sound which makes me want to scream and then be sick. To think about the accident the changed my life was inevitable. We were thankful that we weren't hurt by the idiot. We were also thankful that he didn't hit another car. Still, another nerve-wracking scene I didn't need with a noise to haunt my waking and sleeping was not what I needed.