Six

It has been six years since my mom was no longer alive.  Six years since I've seen her laugh, seen her smile, seen her to tell me to wipe of some of that makeup because I have such pretty skin.

Six years.

I really can't even process it. 

I haven't written a single thing about my mom on this blog since last year on this day.  And that's shocking, because I have certainly thought about her and wished she were around SO many times during wedding-related activities.  Maybe it was just too hard to put into words. 

 Every year, I think I'm going to do something special, or start a neat tradition.... and every year, it doesn't happen.

This year I get to work rough back-to-back shifts at work and sleep only 5 hours, which I'm sure will be excellent for my emotional state.

Today, just hug your moms for me.  Tell her you love her over the phone.  My mom may "know" that I love her, but it's really not the same as telling her.  I promise.

I knew in the back of my mind... that as the years passed, I would be further and further away from her memory.  That I would probably forget all the "little" things that she did that made her her.

I just didn't realize that it would still hurt so much.

Four.

In the big scheme of life, four years is not a long time.  Considering the 21 years prior to the past four, this time is just a drop in the bucket.Only it's not. 
Sometimes I think that time speeds up right after everything changes. 

I can remember exactly everything about that Sunday four years ago.  I can remember what she was wearing, what I was doing that morning, what I had done the day before - absolutely everything.
It all feels so fresh that I can't believe how much time has passed.

There are times that it doesn't feel so fresh.  That I feel healed and together and composed.  That a customer at work can make a reference to my mom (not knowing the situation) and I feel totally fine.

And then there are other times that it feels anything but OK.  When everything feels personal.  When any potential situation feels like a perfect time to miss her.

Four years... it feels like 4 minutes.  I miss her every day.

A Very Good Day

A week ago Saturday, also known as "The Day Before I Love You's," was not a good day.

You see, when your doctor tells you she can't fit you in for your annual lady-physical until November, you get over it. And then when she calls you right back and says she has an appointment on Saturday morning, it's total buzzkill.

I had an early morning meeting at work and then headed to the lady doctor. During the breast-exam portion of the funfest, she asks me "have you always had this lump here?"

Cue panic.

She sits me up and feels again from different angles - always coming to the conclusion that I didn't want to hear: a lump. Not a tiny one, but a nice, big one.

She finishes up what needs to be done and sends me off with an appointment for an ultrasound and a diagnostic mammogram.

At age 24.

I visit the doctor in a different town, so on my way back I am just reeling. I expected a lot of things from this appointment - but this was not one of them.

At first, I wasn't going to tell anyone. Why burden anyone with unnecessary worry? It just seemed so cruel and unfair, especially since my mom died so young (although from nothing even remotely related to breast cancer).

I had planned on hanging out with Mr. RH for a couple hours before heading back to work, so off I went.

He asks how things went and I tell him everything is fine and dandy before resuming my stone-cold silence.

At this point he knows me well enough that he's not convinced of that bullshiz so he basically sits patiently until I make up my mind that I'm going to spill my guts.

After 52 hours of me debating in my head, I choke the words out: "she found a lump."

Mr. RH looks - well, he looks like I feel: petrified. Stone cold.

I don't blame him.

He, of course, recovers enough to say all the right things. It's nothing. Don't worry. It's going to be fine. I'm here for you.

Of course, at this point I have completely lost my grip and there are tears running down my cheeks.

Mr. RH wipes my tears and smoothes my hair and tells me everything is going to be just fine.

For days, I live with the secret between Mr. RH and I. Not telling a soul.

We go to the wedding and I hug my friends tighter and scream "I love you's" out the car windows until they are out of sight.

I break down and tell some co-workers so I can get off for the appointment. I decide to tell my dad because I can't decide if it would completely break his heart that I didn't tell him and something was wrong.

In the meantime, Mr. RH tells me that he loves me. He has, according to him, been thinking it for weeks but couldn't find the right time to tell me. He wanted to say it the minute I told him about the lump but also didn't want me to think he only said it because he was afraid.

He also insists on accompanying me to my appointment. I, of course, fight him tooth and nail and tooth but he insists that he's going to wait in the lobby while I get my tests done.

It feels really, really nice to have someone insist on supporting me, for a change. Really, really great.

In the meantime, Mr. RH and I can't exactly shake the what-ifs from our head. Sure, he tells me he's not worried and that everything is fine. But in the quiet moments, I look over at his face and we both know what is going unsaid.

Fear.

The thought that I was coming so close to everything that I had ever wanted and the thought of it being potentially taken away? So unfair.

But after 10 of the most-sleepless days I've ever had, the appointment was yesterday.

All clear. Nothing to worry about.

Mr. RH had the whole day off with me so we spent it celebrating. Mexican fiesta for lunch, shopping, making out, going on a drive, making peach cobbler.... all of our favorite things.

We parted ways last night knowing that the future is still in tact and ours for the taking.

It was a very good day. Potentially one of the best.

Friday Friday Friday

Did anybody watch Grey's Anatomy last night? For some reason it really hit home for me.

In the episode, Izzy reveals that she doesn't know if she should fight the Stage IV skin cancer when she knows she only has a 5% chance of survival. It really reminded me of my mom when she was diagnosed with Stage IV colon cancer.

It's really weird to me to think that my mom has been gone now for almost a year and a half. Time really goes too fast.

Before this gets any more depressing I am going to cut it out. Come back Monday for a fabulous giveaway.

Happy Friday!

Click.

Click.
October 1986 - my baptism. She was so happy to finally have me.


Click.
August 1987 - she couldn't believe the little person I was becoming.

Fast Forward.

Click.
Spring Break 2005. Our family(my dad, brother, she, and I) went on a trip to Key West and she was so excited for all of us to be together. I don't think there's a prettier picture of her anywhere.

Click.
November 2005. I was finally in college, and she was more than happy to bring my grandpa (my dad's dad) to come and see a game.


Click.
March 2006. I took this pic on our 'girls-only' spring break to Boston, where we got to meet my cousin Aidan.


Click.
February 2007. Sophomore Parents Weekend at my school. They came up to do all the fun activities and hang out at school with me. She's on chemo at this point, and was sick the entire weekend. I remember that I was on the planning committe for the dinner, so instead of hanging out on Saturday afternoon we were decorating the ballroom. She was so sick she had to leave while I finished up. If only I'd have known then... what I know now.


Click.
May 2007. My brother's high school graduation weekend. This is an outtake from an attempt at a family photo. I love my cheesiness and her expression.


Click.
July 2007. With 2 of her sisters and mom(she has 8 siblings). From left to right: Mary (oldest sister), my mom, my grandma, Barb (youngest sister). I love this picture. They were trying to post like me and my friends, they said.


Click.
July 2007. Our last picture as a family on our last family vacation. We went up to Lake Michigan to hang out for the week. It was such a fun, relaxing time.


My mom died a year ago today. I had rushed home from college to see her one last time, and my dad was trying to make me go back to school the following day. We (along with my aunt, who had come to town to help my mom's recovery from heart surgery) were sitting at the kitchen table pecking at dinner - and then I knew.

She was gone.

I can't describe it, but all at once I just could feel a weight lifted from my shoulders. While I certainly wasn't happy, in that moment I felt relief.

Relief that all the uncertainty would end.
Relief that I would phone home and something else would go wrong.
Relief that the struggle was finally over.
Relief that she was finally at peace.
Relief that I could stop worrying. (little did I know...)

Click.
Click.
Click.

My life has been captured in a series of photos. My mom loved taking pictures - it was one of her passions. I have tons of albums filled with her photos.

I've totally caught her passion.

As I think back today on how I'd like to remember my mom, I can think of only one thing. Click.

I know that all my friends are far too busy and too important to take time to shower and look presentable today, but I am hoping that very soon we can all take a few minutes to capture these times in our lives.

Not only are they fleeting, but you never know when this one is going to be the last one. Click.

If I could ask everyone I see today one favor, it would be this: grab a camera and take a few photos of someone you love today. Don't think, just do. Click.

Mom, I miss you a little bit more and a little bit less each day. It's getting harder to remember your voice - or the things you'd repeat to me over and over - but there's one thing I will never forget: your smile.

I love you. I miss you.

love,

My Trip to Pennsylvania and New Jersey

During the first week of June, I took a trip out to Pennsylvania, which continued on to New Jersey.

Anyways, that was WEEKS ago and I can't seem to blog about it. What the hey is wrong with me? No, I have no idea either.

So instead, I'm going to photo-post and be lazy. I like it like that.

On the first leg of the trip, in Pennsylvania, we attended the Relay for Life. My aunt is the overall chairperson for the event, so it was a big deal that we went out there.

First, we got to see this awesome medical transport helicopter. Really cool. We got to sit inside it - we're so special!! (The brunette is my cousin, A. I'm the blonde.)

We also got to see this awesome firetruck. Have I mentioned that I love fire-fighters? I'll have to save that for another post.

Then, it rained. During the Relay for Life. Ouch. But, all was not lost because there was then the most beautiful rainbow. A perfect sight for such an amazing event.

I got this pic when it turned dark - I thought it was really pretty. Such a touching event with so much meaning behind it - especially for my family. In three years, I have lost my mother, grandmother, and grandfather - all to cancer. (And on that note, there was a sign and luminary for him as well - just too many pictures for one post. I'm lazy.)

And I hate to end a post on such a depressing note, but I think I'm going to have to. I will be posting baby pictures in part 2 of this vacay, so y'all come back now, ya hear?

love,

Happy Mother's Day

I knew this day was going to be hard - I did.

I'm working through 'Senior Week' at my College. As a junior that has been waiting to go home for 2 months, and whose friends have all gone home, I don't have much to do today.

My dad and brother are coming up midday to take some of my dorm room stuff home.

BUT, today is mother's day. The first without my mother, who died on November 4th.

Since I have nothing better to do today, I have volunteered to work the front desk of my dorm and make a few dollars. When another girl mentioned that she wouldn't be able to get to her shift, she begged me to take it and I succumbed to the pressure. Which means that I am sitting at the front desk today for a grand totally of... drum roll please... 11 hours.

Somebody please shoot me - this day blows.

Anyway, back to Mother's Day. I really miss my mom. More and more lately, I have just been wanting to pick up the phone and call her. I just want to chat. I want to tell her what I bought at Target today. I want to tell her how much I want to go to an outlet mall... and then have her tell me to spend $50 and put it on my credit card and she'll take care of it. I want to have her tell me to stop being so dramatic all the time. I want her to tell me what she did today.

Most of all, though... what I really really want - is just to sit with her. We have a "Chair and a Half" that sits in our living room, and it only really fits 1.5 people - NOT 2. But when I had breaks at school and came home from college, I always found myself banging hips with her and fitting both of our butts in that chair. I want to sit with my mom. Just sit.

I miss you mom. I wish you were here.

This is my family: me, Dad, brother, Mom.

This picture was taken a year ago at my brother's high school graduation party, when she was in "remission" from colon cancer. She was never in remission, it was just 'protocol' not to test from the date of the last chemo until 3 months later - when it was too late to save her.

I miss her so much it physically hurts. I had no idea she wouldn't be around for Mother's Day this year, or to help move me out of my dorm. I just had no idea.

I miss you mom.

love,