Earlier today, Keegers said to me, "Mommy, do you remember when Mary Lou came to our house and took me to Tumble Tots?"

We had enrolled Keegers in another round of Tumbling, and this time our sitter, Mary Lou took him since it was I was at work.  On this particular Wednesday, I had kept the boys home since Suttie was under the weather.  I didn't want to take Suttie out when he was sick, but Mary Lou didn't want Keegers to miss Tumble Tots, so that one time, and one time only, she came to get Keegers instead of me taking Keegers to her.

I DID remember it, but I was shocked that he did.  Shocked because it was the Wednesday of the week when Suttie ended up in the hospital.  A year ago, when Keegers was 2 1/2.

That one random "out of the usual" event made such an impression on him, that a year later, he still remembers it.

Having an awesome grandma was the norm for him... but I wonder if losing her will make the same stamp on his mind that the trip to Tumble Tots made for him. 

I can hope.

When I posted last time, Lindsey brought up Mom's excited squeals when she would watch the kids play baseball.  While everyone would use that time to socialize... Mom was ALL business.  She'd get her sunglasses on (to make sure she wasn't staring into the sun) and position herself on the front row so that no one was in front of her, blocking her view.  She knew where every single kid was on every single play.  She would get her arms going... not  quite sure if she should clap... cheer... climb the fence to help.... She would get screaming for them to "Run! Run! Run!" or "Oh!  Get there!"

Her excitement was immeasurable. 

Her love for those kids was immeasurable!

She took such pride in them when they did well and would be the first in line to tell them what a great job they had done.  And when they didn't win... well she was the first to point out all the positives.

I hope that as we start to try to get on with our lives, that she's right there with us.  That she's wearing her big sunglasses, her platform flip flops, and a shirt that says "Wife, Mom, Grandma." I hope that she's sitting in the front bleecher cheering us on, squealing with excitement when we do something well... and reminding us of all the positives when the game seems to go the other way.

Something else she'll miss

I just signed Keegers up for T-Ball and Soccer for this spring.

He is going to LOVE it, which means that now I'm sobbing.

When we moved here, and had the boys, I hated that Mom and Dad missed out on so much of their day to day lives, but I knew that it would be ok once they were in school.  I knew that because mom ALWAYS said she wasn't going to work until she was 80 like Thelma did....

Moving away and having kids was going to be ok.

I knew that she was going to be retiring soon... as soon as she had worked long enough to pay off her life insurance... but then she would be free.

In my head, I knew that she was going to be able to come and stay for a week or a two at at time... and attend all of the boys' school programs... see them pick dandelions on the T-ball field... be there for Grandparents' Day... and all those silly things.  She had loved going to Tumble Tots with Keegers, and I knew she was going to want to come and watch Suttie do it too.

To quote my very eloquent Dad... "God this sucks!"

I'm constantly reminded that she's not here... and that she's never going to be here again.

Everytime I start to pull myself together... I do something like this normal thing, realize that she's gone, and it makes me feel like I'm starting the grief process all over again. 

Someone said one time, "I can't imagine what losing your Mom feels like"

Want to know?

It feels like shit.

Not clear enough?

It feels like an elephant is jumping up and down on my chest, while the Hulk punches me in the face.

Clear enough?

I feel cheated.  I feel pissed.

And any parent knows that when your children are hurting, you hurt for them.  So I'm not only pissed for myself.  I'm supremely pissed for my boys.  I'm pissed for Dalton and Dylan and Ky.  I'm pissed for baby Owen... and I'm pissed for any any more babies Lindsey wants to have.

And I'm pissed for my Mom.  I know that she loved all those things.... she LOVED wearing her shirts to baseball games that said, "______'s Grandma"

And I'm pissed that I'll never get to buy her one.

We went to church today... the first time since "it" happened.  It felt good to get back.

Before the service started, James pointed out something in the bulletin.  "Hey, there's what you need."

It was information about a Grief Group that's getting ready to start in a month or so.

It took me off guard.

I came from a home where we "deal with things on our own".  Where after nearly dying and spending a month in the hospital, my dad STILL thinks I should have just gone home and taken some Tylenol.  He wanted to just put a band-aid on his finger once... and ended up having four major surgeries instead.  He also thinks that Vick's Vapor Rub can cure about anything...

I also came from a home where depression was an issue from time to time.  And while is wasn't always diagnosed, no one needed a doctor to tell them that the darkness was there.  I've battled it myself, and what I've found is that sometimes it comes on in such a subtle way... that you don't realize how much it has taken over until look up and realize that you can't remember the last time you WEREN'T sad... or DIDN'T cry.  For me... I can look back a pictures and know exactly when it was the darkest ... because I'm always heavier in those pictures. 

I am so incredibly lucky to have James with me during all of this.  He lets me cry when I need to, makes me laugh when I need to, and encourages me to get help if I need to...

I don't think it's a coincidence that I haven't fallen into the darkness since we've been together... and that even after two pregnancies... I weigh less now than when we got married.

I won't be able to attend that group, but I'm so glad that if it comes to it, and I need to seek outside help, he'll be there to support me. 

Also doesn't hurt to know that even after all these years... he thinks I'm pretty cute... no matter how happy or sad I am... or what I weigh...

Who needs meds or therapy, when you've got a guy like that?



 

The purpose of this blog is of course to write about how great my mom was.

But right now, that's just too hard for me.

I know I'll get there eventually, but right now, when I talk about how freakin (I'm sorry Mom, I know you hate that word) great she was, it just makes me that much more sad that she's not here anymore.

But I'll get there. 

And I'll use nice words. 

And I won't say "freakin" anymore. 

Because my mom didn't raise her girls to talk like that.... 

I'm sure it was that Swiss Boarding School she sent us to.

Status updates.

There are moments where I feel like my life is a walking "Status Update".  Like I survive moment to moment in a "Sara is..."

Sara is...
fine

Sara is...
crying again for no reason

Sara is...
having a panic attack

Sara is...
pretending to be fine

Sara is...
getting better

Sara is...
pretending it's a bad dream

Sara is...
having bad dreams

Sara is...
reading old emails

Sara is...
crying again

Sara is...
calling voicemail

Sara is...
learning to cope

Sara is...
not coping well

Sara is...
sad

Sara is...
tired

Sara is...
tired of being sad

I miss my Mom.

I miss knowing that I can pick up the phone and call her on my way home from school.

I miss being able to tell her about the goofy things that the boys say.

I miss her random notes in the mail with clippings from the newspaper.

I miss her voice.

I miss her smile.

I miss her smell.

I miss her love.

I miss my Mom.

Today is my little sister's birthday. 

Happy Birthday Luke... Sorry you won't be getting a card from me today.  I know it's not the first time you haven't gotten one from me... but know that without a doubt it's the first time you haven't gotten one from Mom.

The stockholders of Hallmark are taking a big hit this month without Mom.  She also missed Chad's birthday, James' birthday and retirement.

And then...the other little date this month.

Today would have been my parent's 36th wedding anniversary.  I don't know the protocol... is it still their anniversary? 

A few years ago I remember dad coming in to Karri's house.  He said, "Man I don't know what is wrong with your mom... but she's been in a pissy mood all day."  To which I said, "Do you think it's because it's your anniversary and you took her to a fish fry?"

I won't go into details about what he said... it wasn't PG... but he DID leave rather quickly to make amends as he had totally forgotten it was their anniversary....

but he HAD remembered to call Lindsey to wish her happy birthday.

Somehow... I doubt he forgets that date anymore.

So happy birthday Luke.... and many, many more....

And happy anniversay Mom and Dad.... not nearly enough

We had an amazing weekend this weekend as we celebrated James' retirement from the Navy.
We were surrounded by our family and some of our very best friends.  People came from all over via planes, trains, and automobiles.  We laughed tons, and I'm not naming any names, but there were some tears too.

Such a huge accomplishment, and I couldn't be prouder of him. 

I hated that two very important people were not there.

My Mom and his Dad.

I've been thinking about Mom through all of this.  Fortunately we were able to stay VERY busy, but on the down moments, I thought about how proud of James she was.  I've said a million times that you would have thought that SHE was going to be getting the pension.  She would have been sitting right up there laughing, crying, and cheering along with the rest of us.  Plus she would have loved seeing Keegers and Suttie in their uniforms.  I dreampt about her numerous times, and each time I was talking to her and she was helping me get ready.  Other times I could see her doing the dishes... I miss her.

Losing my mom has made me think more and more about James losing his dad.  Although it's been ten years, it's still such a void to not have your parent there for big things like this.  Even though I didn't know him well, I know he would have been so proud of his boy too.

Sad Suttie

Mom was so excited the last month or so before she left us.  Suttie was just starting to really talk, and he would even talk to her on the phone.  When we were home for Thanksgiving she talked about how much he was growing up. 

I love hearing him start to speak in real sentences and putting his thoughts together.

Today, on the way home from school he said, "Mama, I sad."  "Oh Suttie," I said, "why are you sad?"  Keegers piped up.  "Suttie are you sad cause you miss Gwandma. Cause I miss Gwandma so muchy too.

It breaks my heart every time.

I know I'M sad cause I miss Gwandma.  But I wonder how long Keegan will equate sadness with Grandma Cindy.  I wonder how long before he stops asking God to take care of Grandma in his prayers. 

I wonder how long before he stops missing her. 

He's only 3 1/2.  He's way too smart for his (our) own good... but he's so young. 

Suttie's response was, "NO!  I miss Paw Paw!"

Has he already forgotten her?

He's only 2.  He's way too smart for his (our) own good... but he's so young.

I'm only 34.  Somehow that seems pretty young too.  Way too young to be missing Gwandma.

I feel so many things about losing my mom.  Each day, each moment can bring a different feeling. 

Sadness
Anger
Peace
Confusion
Terror
Hurt
Shock

Guilt

Guilt.  I shouldn't feel it.  I know that there was nothing that we could do to save Mom, but I still feel so much guilt that we didn't know to try.

The Saturday after Thanksgiving Mom was sick on the couch all day.  She couldn't talk, she had a terrible headache, but worse... the boys were there... and she didn't play with them.

I should have known that she was really sick.

I should have taken her directly to the hospital.

Mom loved playing with her grandkids more than just about anything.  How did we not realize how serious the situation was?

I need to stop feeling that.  We told her to go to the doctor.  Karri and Lindsey both offered to drive her if she needed it.  But like Lindsey said, Mom suffered from low blood pressure.  Had she gone, even if it was elevated, it would have probably been in the "normal" range, so they would have sent her home.

We were told... and maybe they just tell people this, but we were told that even if she had been in a hospital, she "went so fast" that even a doctor wouldn't have been able to do anything to save her.

But they would have tried. 

We should have tried.

But how could we have known it would end up like this?

I've looked at the Mayo Clinic Website, the American Heart Association Website, and Googled the warning signs.

They weren't there.

So how do you stop what isn't there?

And if you can't stop it, why feel guilt?

I've talked myself down for a minute and that moment of guilt is over, which is good.  But now I'm just back to being really, really sad.

I posted pics of the boys today on Facebook.  I do it ALL the time... but today I thought about the fact that mom wouldn't be making any comments on them, yet I knew exactly what she would say.

On the picture of Keegan finally without the bandage on his forehead, she would say, "He is still so handsome!" or on the ones of his latest injury..."What are you doing to my sweet boy?  Is Grandma is going to come and save him?"...and on the random picture of Suttie she would have said, "There's Grandma's Dollbaby!"

There were times when she would post something, that we would just read it and shake our heads.  She could be SUCH a nut.  She was just a touch ADD... and so sometimes following her thought pattern could be touch and go...

I miss her goofy little comments almost as much as I miss her...

Today has been a rough one...

We are down to the final stretch with preparations for James' retirement.  I want so much for everything to be perfect!  I want him to really enjoy his day, because it's such a huge achievement.  I know it will all fall into place, unfortunately I've contracted a serious case of ADD...I start things, but never finish them.

Was it really necessary for me to just reorganize the linen closet when my house is a disaster?

Dad came over this weekend to help us paint.  We had been wanting to get it done before the party, and had convinced Dad to come over and help.

I don't know why I thought that would be a good idea on any level. 

While the painting went well, I had some how blocked out how hard that four hour drive is when you have nothing to do but think. 

I don't think Dad was ready.  I think it was too much for him

Since I've been home I've tried my best to stay busy with all the preparations for the party, and of finishing up the semester.   But like I told a friend today, being with Dad was like pulling a bandaid off a wound.  It brought it all right back to the surface.

It didn't help that I had to mail in copies of her death certificate to different places to confirm that she's dead. 

Holding it in my hand didn't make it any more real. 

Seeing an "official" cause of death doesn't make it make any more sense, or suck any less.  Cause it REALLY, REALLY sucks.

We are going to have a REALLY great week.  We will get to see tons of friends, some we haven't seen in way too long.  And it's going to be SO much fun.  I'm so proud of James.  I'm so proud to be his wife.... but that just reminds me how proud my mom was to be his mother in law.  She was really looking forward to this weekend.  You would have thought SHE was going to get a Navy Pension.

We are going to miss her being there with us this weekend.

But I have a feeling that's going to be an ongoing theme around here.

My dad Lewie can be a real ass.

I know that, he knows that, hell, anyone who has met him can tell you that.  But he's OUR ass... and I adore him as much as my mom. 

But if anyone ever questioned how my Dad felt about my Mom... their questions should be erased by now.  His grief for her is overwhelming.  At times, I'm afraid we are going to lose him in it.  I've heard stories of people dying from a broken heart, and at times I feel like I'm watching someone with that diagnosis.  It's like he's been pushed off the pontoon... and can't remember how to swim.

I'm lucky.  I can pretend that she's just in the other room, or other state.  It still hits me at times, hard enough to take my breath away, but that happens to him constantly.

He asks anyone who has lost a spouse how long he's going to cry like this.  I think he expects them to tell him he'll be over it by Thursday. 

When you have a baby, they will tell you not to worry about losing the weight.  They, whoever they are, will tell you that it takes you 9 months to put the weight on, so it should take you 9 months to take the weight off. 

So what if it's like that? 

On the 19th of this month, Mom and Dad were to celebrate their 36th wedding anniversary.  They had dated for 2 years before that.  What if it takes you as long to get over the loss as it took you to get to it?

To put that into perspective, in 38 years, Keegers and Suttie will be 41 and 40.

I pray that when the time is right, that he's able to remember how to swim, or at least grab onto the intertube.  Because Mom's not sitting on the beach anymore playing life guard.

Keegers had a doctor's appointment today to get the "Kitty Whiskers" removed from his forehead.  These were the first of what we are sure will be many trips to the ER for stitches.  He claims he was trying to give Suttie a hug... and somehow he fell and hit his head on the wall. (note to self: ask Suttie's permission before hugging)  We had been in the middle of packing up to leave Mom and Dad's house after the holidays.  As soon as it happened, we knew we had to go to the hospital.

Yet another moment for me to miss my mom.  I was freaking out, trying to figure out how to get him there, and what to do with Sutton, and try to pretend to NOT be freaking out.  Mom was cool as a cucumber in situations like that.  It was her nature to just take care of people.

When I was 13 and wrecked my three-wheeler, I spent 27 days in the hospital.  During that entire time Mom left me for just a few hours.  She lost seven pounds the first week.  Just this past summer I woke up early one Sunday morning with a migraine.  The headache was bad enough, but the fact that they cause me to throw up not stop was the bigger problem.  James had drill weekend so it was just me and the boys.  I didn't know what to do, so at 34, I called and woke up my Mommy, and sobbingly asked her to help me.  It's a four hour drive on a good day.  She was her in four hours and ten minutes.  She hadn't even put on her make-up.

She was there when both of my babies were born.  When Keegan fought nursing and I was freaking out, she's the one I handed him to.  When we would go to her house with a newborn and a toddler, James and I  knew naps were possible... because she just took over.

Who am I going to call now?

So in the midst of throwing on shoes and trying to stem the bleeding, I called my dad.  When Marshall answered, I simply said, "Tell Dad I need him here right now!"

He made the three mile drive in about that many minutes.

We rushed out the door and just handed Suttie to him.  "Go! We'll be fine!"

When we got home 3 hours later, they were both still in one piece and had even had naps.

It turns out... in situations like that, Dad's a pretty cool cucumber too.

Moving to Illinois was hard for me.  I went from being roommates with my younger sister and living three miles from my parents, and three miles from my older sister to being two hundred miles and a time zone away.  In Indiana, I was at a school that I loved, and worked with great people.  It had been my dream job because I was close to home.

But alas... I fell in love with a military man.  On the day we got married (yes, I'm aware it was the hottest day ever) he was in the middle of initiation for becoming a Chief.  We weren't sure if or when he would be transferred, so we had decided to live separately that first year of marriage. 

When he got transferred to Illinois a year later, it was time for me to leave the nest, and finally live with my husband. The toughest part for me was that I didn't have a job lined up for the following fall.  I had started working at 16, sometimes two jobs at a time, and to be making the change to unemployed was really an adjustment. 

Things fell into place and I got a job at an amazing school with amazing people.

But this post isn't about them.  Soon though.

This post is about my reward.  I had told James that if I got a job, after all the stress of not having one, I was going to reward myself with day at the spa.  I had no idea of where to go, and had just driven by a place, so I called and asked for a mani and pedi.  They scheduled me with the cutest, sweetest, stylist ever.  "Miss A" was one of the very first people I met here.  In the four years since I got my job, she's the only person I've gone to.

Over those four years, even though I've never seen her outside of the salon, I've counted her as a friend.  She knows all about my life, and I feel like I've gotten to know about hers.  We know about spouses, and children, and the "important" things.  I ALWAYS look forward to seeing her, not just for the stylist side, but for the social side.

While I had a couple of terrible months last year, she had just a terrible year!  She lost a sister and a child within a matter of months.  The fact that she functions today still amazes me.

Last night I had an appointment with her.  For the first 30 minutes we just stood there and talked, hugged, and cried together.

While my grief is SO very different from hers, it was comforting to me to be there with her.  To be there with her and be able to talk about loss, and love, and faith, and grief.  To talk about the thought of healing, or finding the new "normal" was good.  To know that some of the silly things I think or do, are not so silly made me feel a little more sane.  To see that she understood my panic attacks, how her thoughts about funeral homes had changed so much like mine, or that she could understand why I had gotten upset over a balloon popping that my mom had blown up....

I am not alone.

I knew this.  I know this.  But it was really good to be reminded of it again last night.

My mom was lonely.  She never said it to me, but I'm sure of it. 

She had dedicated her life to taking care of all of us, and I think some of her personal friendships suffered.  She wasn't going to complain about it, but as a mom now myself, I can see how isolated she must have felt at times, especially after we grew up, had families of our own, and unfortuately moved away.

Our lives kept us all so busy, that at times we rushed our visits, phone calls, and the worst... her hugs.  I remember way too many times getting frustrated because I just wanted to get off the phone... and she would think of one more thing to say, and then one more, so I would finally say, "MOM!  I have GOT to go!"

Of course I regret that.  Who WOULDN'T?

She just wanted to connect with us, because she didn't feel connected to that many people around her.  She loved the people she worked with, and she had all the people she would run into in the store, or on the street, but she felt like she didn't have someone she could really share her deepest thoughts with.

My poor, poor mom.  She was so wrong.  For someone who lived in a town of less than 500.... to have over 600 people come to her visitation and funeral... there must have been someone in there.  I KNOW there were people in there... because they were the ones who were crying right along with us.

I am SO blessed that I don't feel that same type of isolation that she did. 

I We, my dad and my two sisters and I, have been overwhelmed with the love and support of those around us.  To make it to her funeral in Indiana, friends drove from Michigan, Georgia, Illinois, Ohio... Flew from Texas.  Those who couldn't make it sent beautiful flowers, cards and messages from all over the country.  They called, they cried, they hurt right along with us.

On the night my mom died, a very good friend sent me a message.  In it she said, "There is something about you that just shines, Sara, and I'm willing to bet your mom had a little something to do with that. She will forever shine through you, just as she always has, I'm sure."  That was probably the most amazing thing anyone could ever say to me.  What a compliment!

That's because of my mom.  I wouldn't be who I am today, without her being who she was.  If there is a shred of goodness in me, it's because of that amazing woman.  If I have a friend in the world, it's because there is part of her in me. 

Dear God I pray....

Evenings are the hardest.  Or when I am sitting in a car on a long drive.  Or when I'm in the shoe department. Or when I'm laying in bed late at night.  Or when I'm watching random tv shows.   

Ok... so there are lots of hard times. 

It catches me off guard so often.  I'll find myself carrying on about my day, and then I start to get this anxious feeling, where it is hard to breathe.  If I stay busy, it stays away. 

Tonight I found a receipt for the night that Keegers and I went by ourselves to a pottery place for him to paint his own Christmas ornament.  We had gone a few weeks before with friends to celebrate Suttie's 2nd birthday.  Suttie had painted one, and at the time I hadn't thought about having Keegan do one too.  So we had made time that night, just the two of us to go. 

It was November 30th.  Mom called me later that night while the boys were in the bath.  I didn't get her message until later, and hesitated about calling her back so late.  It was almost 9:30 her time, and I didn't usually call past 9.  But for some reason, I called her back.  She hadn't felt well for a couple of days, so I asked her about how she was feeling and told her that if she didn't get better she needed to go to the doctor the following day.  She said she was better and that she would go to work the next day. 

I told her about Keegan painting his ornament so that he would have one like Suttie.  She said, "That is SO cool!"  It was time to try to get the boys to bed, so we starting saying goodnight.  She said, "Give those boys a hug for me!"  I promised that I would, told her I loved her, and we hung up.

November 30th was the last time I talked to my mom.  Finding that silly pottery receipt reminded me of that... and of that last conversation.  I'm SO glad I called her back... and that I didn't rush the call.

Bookends

I had a TERRIBLE January last year.  My husband James had his second shoulder surgery and had to stay overnight in the hospital.  Considering how much of Daddy's boys both Keegers and Suttie Joe are... it made things a little rough around here as he recovered.  Neither of them were (are) great sleepers... so fighting that fight alone... throwing in a puking toddler the night James got home... well that was not fun.  But that was nothing compared to the fact that Suttie contracted H1N1 and had to go to the hospital in the middle of a blizzard.  THAT was horrible.  I called my mom... exhausted and frantic.... and there was nothing she could do becuase she couldn't get here.  She cried with me, but there was no way that she could get here to help.  I spent several days in the hospital holding Suttie non-stop, and I felt so alone.  James was sick... Keegers was sick... they had the "Swine" too... and I had to for the first time in my life do it all..... I had a TERRIBLE January

I had a TERRIBLE December last year.  I woke up December 1st and had a mom... and before I went to bed that night, my mom was gone.  I had to explain to my boys, something that I didn't understand myself.  Grandma Cindy was dead... and even though Keegers had a great idea of "finding someone to make her NOT dead" there was nothing we could do to change it.  Throw in "celebrating" the holidays for the first time without my mom... finding out my Grandfather has lung cancer and a trip to the ER for Keegers to get his first of what I'm sure will be many stitches.... I had a TERRIBLE December.

But between those Bookends... I (We) had a really great year! 

We celebrated Easter by coloring LOTS of eggs blue... because blue is Keegan's favorite color.

We settled into our house, got close to lots of neighbors and had the first of what I think will be many neighborhood cookouts with all the kids running from yard to yard.

I travelled.... James and I took all four boys to Washington DC during an insane heat wave... and we survived. 

I got to have a Mom's weekend in VEGAS with some of my very best friends. 

I welcomed a new nephew, Baby Owen, born to my little sister who was able to move back "home" after being cross country.

I got tenure at my job... and James put in his papers to retire.

James and I left the little boys with my mom overnight for the first time so we could meet up with old friends and have a grownup evening!

I made it home for Thanksgiving and went Black Friday shopping for the first time in two years with my mom... and we had a GREAT day!

I reconnected with old friends, and was reminded of what great friends and family I really have!

I had a TERRIBLE January and a TERRIBLE December, but those months were just the bookends to a really, really great year.  The story of 2010 shouldn't be just about how it started and ended... but about what was held in between.

More than anyone I need to remember that.

My Mom.... She's a Firework... Just not a Sparkler... Because those will put your eye out!

My mom is dead.  I've said it a million times in the last month, but it still hasn't seemed to fully set in.  I'm not sure when it will.  If shock hurts this bad... I can't imagine what reality will feel like

My heart is broken…. My life is altered.

My mom had a massive heart attack.  She did not suffer.  She was sitting on the couch with a plate of food on her lap.  She put her hands down on her lap, put her head back, and had a smile on her face.  She didn't struggle. She just died...

What you need to know about my mom is that she had horrible self-esteem.  She told my dad a year ago that she didn’t have one single friend she could tell her troubles to.  She was SO wrong.  I grew up in a town of less than 600 people… 600 people signed the book at my mom’s visitation and funeral.  There were so many flowers, that the funeral home started telling people not to order them.

My mom never understood how many people loved her and how many lives she affected. 

I don't listen to much music outside of the soundtracks for Disney movies these days, but I did happen to hear the Katy Perry song floating around right now.  For some reason, "Firework" makes me think about my mom.  I love the song, but can't listen to it without crying.

But I've decided that's exactly what my mom is now.  She was this beautiful person, with this incredible spark, and now she's up there in the sky showing her real beauty off... and maybe she's finally seeing her self that way too! 

So if you get a chance, check out the lyrics, or search youtube for the video.  And then let me know if you agree that my mom.... She's a Firework....

Firework--Katy Perry

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag
Drifting throught the wind
Wanting to start again

Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin
Like a house of cards
One blow from caving in

Do you ever feel already buried deep
Six feet under scream
But no one seems to hear a thing

Do you know that there's still a chance for you
Cause there's a spark in you

You just gotta ignite the light
And let it shine
Just own the night
Like the Fourth of July

Cause baby you're a firework
Come on show 'em what your worth
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"
As you shoot across the sky-y-y

Baby you're a firework
Come on let your colors burst
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"
You're gunna leave 'em fallin' down-own-own

You don't have to feel like a waste of space
You're original, cannot be replaced
If you only knew what the future holds
After a hurricane comes a rainbow

Maybe you're reason why all the doors are closed
So you can open one that leads you to the perfect road
Like a lightning bolt, your heart will blow
And when it's time, you'll know

You just gotta ignite the light
And let it shine
Just own the night
Like the Fourth of July

Cause baby you're a firework
Come on show 'em what your worth
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"
As you shoot across the sky-y-y

Baby you're a firework
Come on slet your colors burst
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"
You're gunna leave 'em fallin' down-own-own

Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
It's always been inside of you, you, you
And now it's time to let it through

Cause baby you're a firework
Come on show 'em what your worth
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"
As you shoot across the sky-y-y

Baby you're a firework
Come on slet your colors burst
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"
You're gunna leave 'em goin "Oh, oh, oh!"

Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon

Boomer Blahs

It's been one of the major stories the last few days or weeks that starting today 10,000 baby boomers will turn 65 every day for the next 19 years.

Everytime they report it, it pisses me off.

My mom loved the fact that she was a "Boomer." She loved that her dad had served in Europe during the war.  She loved that she had graduated in the 60s.  She just identified so much with the boomers (even though she looked and acted more like a Gen-Xer)

So it pisses me off that she was cheated of this next great milestone.  She stayed home with my sisters and myself until we were in school, then went to work for a bank and later became the switchboard operator at our county courthouse for 20 years.  Neither job was going to make her rich.  She lived modestly, and socked away as much as she could for retirement. 

I'm annoyed that she worked all those years, and saved for a retirement that she will never get!

Then I start to wonder if I'm doing the same thing.  If my mom had a heart attack at 63, and she had sisters that died at 50 and 55 from cancer.... what are the odds that I'll live long enough to spend the money I'm putting away for retirement?  Should I be staying home with my boys now to get as much time with them as possible?  I don't think I could do it.  My mom dedicated her life to everyone around her.  How selfish am I that I don't do the same?

Thank goodness the one thing that she and my dad ALWAYS spent money on was vacation.  Some of my very best memories of my mom, dad, and sisters happened while we were on vacation together.  My mom "not sleeping" or sleeping under blankets in 120 weather.

Hopefully if I at least follow in that example of making vacation time together my top priority and continue to make some great memories with my boys, it will be a good compromise for still working away from them.