Mom = my "three lettered word"

It hurts. Typically this time of year (ya know, Mother's Day and all). Especially this year. It seems that  the weight of the past 16 months = an extra sensitive/emotional Erin (who now speaks in 3rd person).  

I've been missing and needing a mom, let alone my mom.  Lots of things make me ache or grieve, like reading MJFW's sweet post with a much needed good, cleansing cry and then shortly after finding this article, with ugly tears a la Oprah.  And all in the same morning!

Or when my new colleague casually mentioned attending the funeral of her dear friend (pancreatic cancer again) with such "young children". Ouch. Or when my new friend/neighbor dr. C came to check on me and sick C last week. She brought her nebulizer since I could not get a same day appt. see the doctor, poured me a glass of water, and started folding the clean laundry on the floor without asking. I almost cried with gratitude. Or when cousin Heidi emailed about the source of our fireplace screen for her new house and I think...that's not fair, that we both need our moms to help decorate our new houses.

I recognize that I am more sensitive to what I missed, and what she missed, as I become a better mom, get older/closer to her final age, 37. My memory sucks in general, with stories and memories of her fading or, more often, gone long ago. I think that's why I cling to things, sometimes long after the expiration date has passed. Like recently deleting the contact info of a person from childhood from my phone - it's painful.

unpacked my childhood toy box - my boys are less than thrilled.

So, I reach out to my "girls" (XO and non), my sisters, my aunts, my Lisa, my dad. And pray. And think. And write. And know it's ok. To hurt. To talk. To cry. To ask for memories. Stories. Things. For Help.  Support.  

Thanksgiving 2009 - we just announced O's pregnancy

To talk about her. Wonder. Ask questions. Get answers. What was she like. How am I like her. Her favorite part of our FL trip?  Was she smart (as a whip). Favorite games (bridge, Trivial Pursuit) - is it safe to assume she was competitive like me? Did she cook (well, apparently, via Carol F). The dogwoods of KW. Her voice. What color was her real hair (mixed messages there).  Her nickname Stevie and any others?

And try to say thank you.  For helping me along the way, for caring, for listening, for stopping when I say "I need you", for the support...

Thanks Bill for trying to "fix it" even though it's not that easy.  Thanks to Mrs. J for reminding me that mom liked sunflowers (and black eyed susans too). Thanks Aunt Sandy for coming last fall when I was overwhelmed with "The Project" and for the crystal flutes that I recently unpacked (and so didn't "get" when you gifted us them).  Thanks Jess for sharing as we both walk this path at this time, at this age, with these thoughts. Thanks MJFW for always picking up where we left off and letting me be honest, raw.  Thanks Ash for trying valiantly to get together, even if I didn't work out, and your sweet text.  Thanks Jules for putting me on speakerphone during makeup and then the drive to work. Thanks Utz for agreeing to be there whenever and wherever to make up for the missed "girls weekend" at the beach. Thanks Dad for all the "stuff" that I find as I finally unpack my "memories/scrapbook" boxes and other assorted things you sent my way as you packed up the house.  And thank you for understanding if I forgot to thank you.

Last time I saw Katie - Jan 2011 - in our "special" pose

And to Kat, thanks for the phone call a few weeks ago.  About Lionel and Blake's new duet ""You Are". For your tears as you tried to help me remember for once. That it was my song with mom -- she called it, "our song."  I tried to, but couldn't really.  Not until I could download and hear the lyrics.

And finally remembered.