|Let's get those clothes off of you.|
Last night was one of those night that makes you pay for not dealing.
I wish I could go back in time, back to the days when I still thought my mom walked on water, where we spoke on the phone almost every day. Back before the end of college, when my mom made it to my graduation because we flew her in. Back before, I realized that my mom wasn't really good at calling me. Back before my mom only made it to my wedding because Mark and I paid to fly her, my stepdad and my half brother in. Back before my sister died and all the things I realized in that aftermath.
My mom was so much fun when you were with her in person, but if you lived part way across the country as I did these recent years, not so much. One of the things my Dad has told me often in the last couple weeks was to remember the good times. But, remembering the good times HURTS so much more. When I remember the bad things, I can just be mad at her and not her so damn much.
The good times. Back when I was little and we walked in the park near her apartment back in Houston. We stopped at EVERY clover patch looking for that elusive 4-leaf clover. Later, in NJ, the Dunkin Donuts trips after her paper route where we indulged in delicious Bavarian creme donuts. The many times when we visited the Jersey shore and played every game and ate every bad-for-you food on the boardwalk. The sand castle I bought on one of those trips to the Jersey shore still sits in my bath room, a reminder of the good times...and I can't stand to look at it.
My mom HATED having her picture taken. I was trying to find pictures of her in digital form after she died, and I really don't have many. It's horrifying and makes me think that I was a horrible daughter that I don't have enough pictures or good memories in recent years.
And then, to top off the daughter of the year award - one of my self-pitying thoughts last night was about how my first mother's day with Avery will be overshadowed by the fact that it will be my first mother's day without my Mom.
My husband went out to the store last night when I said a giant piece of cake or a cupcake would help me feel better...and he brought home a GIANT cupcake. It did help a bit.
|It's so big, I could only eat half of it.|
For anyone that made it through this complete sobfest, thank you for listening, I'm sorry to be such a downer. I will make up for it with another cute Avery picture....
|In my dreams, I'm a ninja.|