Welcome to my small corner of the internet where I share the latest headlines of my life. Thank you for stopping by and I hope you’ll come back soon! –– Jody
All tagged grief
It’s hard to explain exactly what 13 years feels like. You know how it is getting older: the days blur into weeks, and then into months, and finally into years. It feels so cliche to say, “time goes by so fast.” And yet it does, and it is. If someone had told me two, five or even 15 years ago that I would be parentless by the age of 43, I probably would have replied with a a certain amount of hubris, “no way!” Even though I’ve always known life to be inherently
Remembering mom and thinking about her a lot today. She sure did give me the best of her. Here are some of the ways:
I love a lot of ice in my drinks. Mom loved a lot of ice in her drinks.
Mom was definitely not a morning person. I am definitely not a morning person.
We both found nostalgic humor in every repeat episode of Fraiser, Home Improvement, King Of Queens and Seinfeld, no matter how many times we saw them. We were each open to new things. I got her into Who Wants to be a Millionaire, she got me into Lifetime Movie Marathons about the Kennedy's.
So yes, today is Mother's Day. And I'm wishing it was over. My mom passed away three years ago so she isn't here for me to call, hug or send flowers to. I have a lot of wonderful mothers in my life, and I do appreciate them, I really do. A part of me really feels like I should call my step-mom and wish her happy Mother's Day, but I just don't feel like it. I didn't feel this way last year, and I probably won't feel this way next year. But this year, yep, I'm abstaining from passing out some heartfelt Mother's Day love. Because yep, my heart just isn't in it. It's broken, missing my mom. And the cool thing is, that gives me comfort, because I know in my heart, my mom would understand.
The new year always provides the opportunity to reevaluate the course life is taking me at the present moment. In my personal life, I have never been happier. I love Drew; I love being married, I love our families, I love our friends. And I am very thankful that we are healthy, live in a lovely home, and are financially secure. Yet even among such happiness, I can't deny the combination of restlessness and frustration I feel at times. More so lately than ever before. Why? I ask myself. A huge breaking point came one Sunday a couple of weeks before Christmas. Out of know where, three-quarters through the church service, I just started crying. And I couldn't stop.
