Thank you, Deb, for this award!

I’ve been thinking about all the changes that have occurred since my mom died 3 years, 2 months, and 8 days ago (yes, I counted). The most obvious changes have occurred in my children and how much they’ve grown up. Matt is no longer a young boy, but nearly a young man. He has lost the baby look in his face, will probably be taller than me in the not so distant future, and keeps learning and maturing as he continues with school and TaeKwonDo. My daughter was just a toddler when my mom died and was unable to truly understand why her grandmother died. Of course, Nikki has changed the most since my mom died. She has started school and TaeKwonDo, her once barely shoulder length hair is now almost waist level, and she comes out with statements that surprise me for a 5 year old, like “it’s not fair that Matt got to spend so much more time with Grandmom Angel than I did.” I’m proud of both my kids and their continued accomplishments. They make me laugh, warm my heart, and some days make me nuts. I wish my mom were here to laugh with me and see how much her grandchildren have grown and changed. I know she would be proud of them too. She loved them dearly.

Over the past 3 years I have changed too. Like my daughter, my hair is longer, and I’ve lost about 70 pounds due to grief and pain. Although the weight loss has allowed me to fit into my mom’s beautiful clothes. I still have regrets about the past and wish I could go back in time and say what was in my heart. But if given that chance, would I really do this? In a previous post I wrote about the time my mom and I spent together for her last birthday. If I had known at that time that within 2 months time my mom would be dead, would I have taken our time alone together to open my heart to her? Honestly, I’m not sure. I would like to think I would have, but telling someone what is in my heart is hard for me to do. Maybe I could have written my mom a letter to give to her that day, expressing what I held close to my heart. It’s always easier to express myself through writing, and I believe my mom was the same way.

But I will not get that chance to go back in time, so I keep moving forward. The biggest changes for me since my mom’s death have occurred on the inside. Losing my mom forced me to grow up, to really take charge of my life and accountability for my actions. I realized the many mistakes I had made and begged my mom for forgiveness more times than I can remember. Over and over, I thanked my mom for all she did for me, cried out that I missed her, admitted that I still needed her, told her how much I loved her, and hoped that she could hear me. My mom’s death has softened my heart in places, hardened it in others. In some ways I am more confident, but there are things I fear deeply now. I cherish my small family and the love we share. I look to God for guidance and sometimes ask for messages to be given to my mom through my prayers, because I know my mom is now in Heaven and I believe that one day I will see her again.

I still look back at times and think “what if…”. My view of life and what I want has become clearer, although I wish my mom could be here to share in my dreams and hopefully, one day, my accomplishments. And even though I miss mom dearly and long to turn back time to when she was alive and well, I keep moving forward with the changes of life. It’s what my mom would have wanted for me. I love you, Mom. Always.

As a child I slept with stuffed animals. My favorite was Lambie, a white lamb wearing blue overalls. I slept with this lamb every night for many years. I guess at some point when I got older my mom put Lambie away to give to me one day. My dad found the lamb in a plastic bag after my mom died and gave it to me. The lamb is very worn from love and age, and, unfortunately, the bottom of it has crumbled apart. One day I would love to restore this lamb, I just don’t know how.

When my mom first died, I slept with one of her scarves under my pillow or inside my pillowcase. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I used to go up to my mom and dad’s room, open my mom’s closet, and just stand there enveloped in her scent. This was my favorite and most vivid memory of my mom, but one that didn’t last. On one of those evenings, I opened my mom’s dresser drawer and took a light green silk scarf. Sleeping with this scarf was my way of being close to my mom.

I don’t sleep with the scarf anymore, but I have a confession of sorts to make. Even as an adult, stuffed animals still end up in our bed at times. My husband doesn’t seem to mind because the two I am referring to are small and only one will “lie” in the space between our pillows. In December 2010, I went to Longwood Gardens to see the Christmas displays with my husband, kids, and dad. My mom LOVED flowers and this was one of her favorite places to visit. It was during this trip that I truly believe I felt a hand on my back at waist level, yet when I turned to see who it was no one was behind me. Could it have been my mom letting me know she was with me as I fought back tears of memories past and the times we shared together looking at the decorated trees and beautiful flowers? Of course, the kids had to visit the gift shop before leaving and I purchased a stuffed animal for myself, an owl. My mom loved owls and an owl was the mascot of her college, Bryn Mawr. Whenever I see an owl I think of my mom. A few months later my husband gave me a little stuffed bunny for Easter.

My daughter loves both of these stuffed animals and they “travel” back and forth between my bedroom and my daughter’s, usually in her hands. I never know exactly where they are, as they could be on a bed (usually Nikki’s), on a chair, or on the floor by the bed. But they are always in one of the bedrooms. Last night, our bedroom door opened and in walked my daughter. The lights were off since my husband was sleeping, but I was still awake watching TV on my iPad. I got up to see what Nikki needed. She whispered “here Mama” and handed me the bunny. As I walked her back to bed, I asked Nikki why she brought the bunny to me, especially since she’d been in bed for over an hour and hopefully had been sleeping. She said “I thought you might want it”. So last night the little white bunny lay next to me as I slept, and I fell asleep thinking of my daughter.

When my mom died, people said to me “she’s in a better place now.” That may be the case but my mom isn’t here with me anyone and there’s a gaping hole in my life that nothing will fill. Or someone would tell me that she’s no longer in pain. This is true, but it doesn’t take away my painful memories of watching my mom die a cruel death, and there was absolutely no way to explain how or why my mom got pancreatic cancer. Why my mom? She had so much she wanted to live for.

Please don’t get me wrong, I know that everyone who offered me words of condolence after my mom’s death, whatever they were, did so with kindness and love. I know that many of these people were hurting just as much as I was because they too loved my mom and felt her loss from their lives. I was filled with grief, anger, emptiness, and so many regrets, and nothing I did took away these feelings for a very long time. I was truly lost.

Time did lessen my pain and “heal” my wounds. But I still miss my mom. Even after 3 years, there is still a hole in my life that I can’t fill and an empty place at the table where my mom should be. I think of her every day and wish she was still a part of our lives. She belongs with her family. My mom wanted to be a part of her grandkids’ lives as they grew up. She held on to the hope that one day she would dance with her grandson at his wedding. I still need my mom and there are times when I long to pick up the phone and hear her voice. I have accepted my mom’s death, but I don’t think I will ever truly get over it. There is a part of my heart that still feels the anger, emptiness, and pain that became part of my life after my mom died.

So what do you say to someone who has lost a loved one? Honestly, I don’t think there are any right words to say when someone dies. Things are different for everyone, and often they are numb with shock and grief. Hearing the words “I’m sorry for your loss” or “let me know if there is anything I can do” or “I’m here for you” brought me some comfort. People warmed my heart when they spoke from theirs and talked about a time they shared with my mom or a special memory of her. It is very important to me that my mom is not forgotten. I can never forget her or how deeply she touched my life, as well as the lives of those around her. I love you, Mom, and I will always keep your memory alive.

“To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die” ~ Thomas Campbell

My dad is getting remarried in May. It’s not easy at times seeing my dad with someone else, but I know this is what my mom wanted. She would not have wanted my dad to spend the rest of his life alone. Together, my dad and I went through a lot during my mom’s illness and after her death. He called me his rock, and he was the one I called in tears to talk about my mom before and after her death. All I want for him now is to be happy.

I’ve always wanted to write a blog about my mom and dad. So it’s probably best that I do it now, before my dad gets remarried. My mom and dad were college sweethearts. They met at a dance in February of their first year of college. My mom was visiting friends at another college and they all went to a dance at the college my dad was attending. My dad told me that he had been studying but decided to take a break and check out the dance. He called it fate that he met my mom and how they could have easily never met on that night. I don’t believe in fate or coincidences. I believe that everything happens for a reason. My parents were meant to be together and I believe they fell in love quickly after they met. Because they went to different colleges, they could only see each other on the weekends and over breaks. But their love lasted and they were married shortly after they both graduated from college.

My mom and dad (college years)

My parents did a lot together and a lot with my brother and I when we were growing up. I remember dinners at the kitchen table, something my mom insisted on, trips to so many different places, and Saturday outings after I had gotten married and had kids of my own. We were a family that was always together. My parents shared many similar interests. My dad is still taking care of many of my mom’s orchids and has even purchased plants of his own after she died. But the image that sticks in my mind is my parents sitting at the kitchen table working on the New York Times crossword puzzle in pen.

My parents had been together almost 47 years when my mom died. Like me, I know that my dad will always love and miss my mom. But we also have to keep moving forward in life and this is what my mom would have wanted for both of us. I love you mom and dad. Thank you for making my childhood special and supporting me as I grew into who I am now.

My family (December 2007)

As I was driving down Rt 611, memories of times past started flooding into my mind. There were bad memories as we passed the hospital where both my grandparents had been patients and where my grandfather had died. Then there was the funeral home where both of their funerals had been held. But then we started passing places of good memories like the almost 300 year old church where my grandparents had regularly attended Sunday services for many years. I often came with them for special occasions like the Christmas Eve service. We saw stores that had been there for so many years and the train station my mom, brother, and I often got off at when we decided not to drive to visit my grandparents. I pointed out these places to the kids, telling them stories of the past, as we drove toward my grandparents’ former home.

I was worried that I wouldn’t remember how to get to their house. I knew where to turn off of 611 to get to where their house was located, but I wasn’t sure of where to find the exact street. As I made the turn and drove slowly to look at the street signs, their street was the first one I came upon. I was so excited as I turned onto their street. My son was amazed at the old houses we passed and starting taking pictures with his cell phone. It had been at least 15 years since I’d been in the area, but it was like nothing had changed.

I stopped in front of my grandparents’ house and got out of the car. As I stood on the narrow street and looked at the house, I was reminded of all the good times I spent there. I took several pictures with my cell phone and hoped that no one would walk out of the house and ask me what I was doing. I didn’t want anyone interrupting this time. I felt like I had come home again, come back to my second home. Besides the addition of the dormers as a second story, nothing else about the house seemed to have changed.

I longed to go inside the house, but just couldn’t bring myself to knock on the door. Besides I wanted to remember the house the way I knew it. In my mind I could picture each room the way it had been decorated when my grandparents lived there, and as I thought about each room memories of the times I spent there warmed my heart. I was very close to Mom Mom and Pop Pop, my mom’s parents. As a child I spent a lot of time at their home. The only memories I have of that house are ones filled with laughter and love. My grandparents were wonderful people who, like my mom, made a big impact on my life.

It was a cold, windy day and although my body felt chilled to the bone, my heart was filled with warm memories as I jumped back into the car and started the drive back home. My son only knew my grandmother. My grandfather died when Matt was less than a year old, but at least my grandfather knew my son. Matt was 6 years old when Mom Mom died and I was pregnant with Nikki. I know Matt enjoyed visiting the house and the area where I spent part of my childhood. I know it didn’t mean as much to Nikki, but I’m glad she got to see the house and hear some stories about my grandparents. All the way home, I felt the loss of both my grandparents and my mom. But it was worth it to see that house again.

Four Christmases without you,
your traditions still live on.
I make your special dishes,
the ones you once made with love.

Four Christmases without you,
the day just isn’t the same
without the sound of your laughter
or seeing the joy on your face.

Four Christmases without you,
my Santa and an angel rolled into one.
I try to make the day special for my kids
with thoughts of you in mind.

Four Christmases without you,
know how much you’re loved,
as memories of Christmases we spent together
live within my heart.

Merry Christmas, Mom. I love you…today, tomorrow, always.

As I opened the book to the first page, I found an inscription dated 2005 written by my mom. She wrote:

Dear Matthew,

This book is Mom-Mom’s gift to you. When you read it, she will be listening to the story up in Heaven.

Love, Grandmom and Grandpop

In March 2005, my grandmother, who we all called Mom-Mom, suffered a horrible and debilitating stroke. Amazingly she survived, but was confined to a “life” in bed, unable to do anything for herself. Most days she listened to the TV since she had been nearly blind when she suffered the stroke and sometimes she was taken into a group room to be able to sit in the company of others. Every night my mom would visit her, bringing her mother a dinner she had carefully prepared, and would feed it to my grandmother. My grandmother was such a proud and dignified woman and to see her this way broke my heart. Mom-Mom passed away on December 15, 2005, and her funeral was held 5 days before Christmas. Mom-Mom often gave my son books for birthdays and Christmases since he loved to read or be read to, a love my mom nurtured. On Christmas day 2005, one of Matt’s gifts was this book that my mom had bought for my grandmother to give to Matt.

When I first grabbed the book, Nikki protested because she wanted to pick the book. But I assured her that she’d like this book and I believe she wanted to read it once I read her the inscription from my mom. As I have written before, Nikki was only two and a half when my mom died, and she holds anything that is from my mom close to her heart. Nikki giggled and laughed as we read about the adventures of ”It”, an almost complete circle that was looking for its missing piece. I’m sure one day we will read it again and I will always keep this book with its inscription, carefully written in my mom’s neat print.

While we were reading the book, I wondered if my grandmother and my mom were listening as we read the book. Later, I thought how fitting the title of the book was, “This Missing Piece”. Both my mom and grandmother are missing pieces from our lives. Thank you Mom for thinking of putting the inscription in this book. I miss both you and Mom-Mom.

About 20 minutes before I started smelling the powder, my daughter got up crying. She said that she had had a bad dream. As I was putting her back to bed and trying to calm her down, Nikki told me that there had been a glowing light in her room near the ceiling when she woke up from the dream. I thought it was just part of the dream and told her everything was ok and to go back to sleep. Nikki was up again 5 minutes later crying hysterically about how much she missed my mom. As she laid in bed, I stroked her hair, whispering to her that angels were watching over her, how it was my prayer for her and her brother every night, and that maybe even Grandmom had been watching over her. Fortunately, the rest of Nikki’s night was peaceful. Once I got back into bed, I asked God to watch over my daughter and surround her with angels to bring her peace.

Thinking about last night, I wonder if my mom came to look in on Nikki first. Is it possible that my mom was the glowing light? I don’t know much about spirits or what they can and can’t do. But after Nikki woke up from the bad dream, she saw that light, and then insisted on holding the Raggedy Ann doll that had been a gift from my mom. Usually she wants her elephant that she’s slept with since she was a baby, but Nikki was frantic because she couldn’t find Raggedy Ann in the dark room. She held tightly onto that doll as she went back to sleep. Not too long after I put my daughter back to bed for the second time, I smelled the faint scent of my mom’s powder.

I do believe that my mom comes to visit. I believe that she watches over her grandkids and wants to see them because of how much she loved them and wanted to watch them grow up. I believe that she comes to me too at times just to let me know she loves me and that she’s ok. There are things that have happened that just can’t be explained and I believe these “things” are my mom coming to visit.

On an even bright note, when I came home from picking my daughter up from school, there was a box waiting for me. The box contained handmade Christmas gifts for my children. Memory Bears. I couldn’t wait to open the package and when I did tears came to my eyes. The bears are beautiful and I can’t wait to give them to my kids. I hope they see these bears as a memory of my mom. For more informaton on Memory Bears, see http://memorybearsbybonnie.wordpress.com/.

_____________________

I’m very angry and hurt. Every Wednesday my daughter brings a stuffed animal to school for a type of show and tell. Nikki brought in a dalmatian that was given to my son by my mom several years ago. Unfortunately, she did not come home with the dog. Nikki was upset as she explained how she had gotten up during this time to use the bathroom, leaving the dog in her spot, and when she came back it was gone. She said that her teacher really didn’t try to look for it and even threatened to send another girl to the principal for helping Nikki look for the dog. How does a stuffed animal just disappear in a circle of kids? I try to teach my daughter respect, especially to respect the feelings of others, but I don’t feel like Nikki’s feelings have been respected.

This feeling of disrespect was reinforced when I asked Nikki’s teacher about the dog this morning. She was quick to tell me that “oh, it will turn up.” That’s the same line she gave me over a week ago when Nikki’s study words, which are always in her folder in a plastic bag, went missing. They have not been found and she hasn’t received another copy. Hindsight tells me that I shouldn’t have let Nikki bring that dog to school, and this was reinforced by her teacher, who told me that I should have never allowed Nikki to bring something special to school. But my daughter wanted to share this dog with her class and we’ve never had any issues before now. The teacher blames Nikki for the loss, telling me that my daughter should have kept that dog in her possession. So Nikki was supposed to bring her dog to the bathroom with her? She has gotten in trouble for “playing” in the bathroom, so I’m sure she thought leaving her dog in her spot was the right thing to do. The teacher also blames me for letting Nikki bring a special stuffed animal to class to share with her friends.

I don’t know what to think. My daughter’s feelings have been dismissed and so were mine, and the blame for this loss was placed squarely on my daughter and I. The teacher told me that I shouldn’t be so upset over this. But how can I not be? My daughter was hurt by a lack of caring by her teacher, and her stuffed animal just disappeared and she’s being blamed for it. I was also told by the teacher that she just couldn’t stop the class to look for it. How long would it have taken to ask each kid in the circle about the missing dog? Five minutes? But as I’ve found out since my daughter started school, nothing seems to matter if it deviates from the teacher’s plans for the day, even the feelings of a child.

I know this may seem like a stupid post. A stuff animal is missing, so what. But something special that cannot be replaced is gone. Somehow it just disappeared and I truly believe it will not be found. More importantly, my daughter was hurt by her teacher’s lack of caring. That’s not right. You can’t teach young children and not respect their feelings, especially if you expect them to show you a high level of respect.

I hold what my mom have given to us, material and otherwise, close to my heart. Nikki won’t be bringing anything special to school again. We’ve “learned our lesson” so to speak and also how unimportant our feelings are. My daughter has been called “flighty” and is probably viewed as being irresponsible in school. But as her mother, I know she wouldn’t have just left that dog anywhere, and at age 5, she’s trying to be a better student.