Grandma's Hands.

This is one of my favorite pictures.  Not just because today is Baby Owen's first birthday... and it's fun to see how big he's gotten and how much he's changed... but because of what else is going on in this picture.

A year ago today, Grandma Cindy was there to welcome and huggle her newest grandbaby.  I love this picture for that reason.  I love that we see my Mom's hands holding little Oh Oh's hand in his first few hours.

I love it because I know that it's what she's still doing.  I know that with whatever issues/concerns/complications we have going on with this pregnancy, it doesn't matter.  We aren't alone.  She's still right there with us, holding our hands. 

And I know she will keep holding this little one's hands... long after he or she arrives here safely.

Conversations in my Head

I still have conversations with my Mom.


Not in the weird "I think she's in the room with me" kind of way... but in the "I am not so far removed from actually HAVING conversations with her that I still know what she would say" kind of way.


Yesterday's "conversation" took place over the phone... like so many others that we've had in the last few years have been.


It went a little something like this.

Me:  Hey.  What's going on?


Mom:  I JUST got in the door.  Hold on while I put the milk in the fridge.  (pause...sounds of 30 pound purse being dropped into closet...)  I stopped at Hallmark on my way home from work to get a card for Owen's birthday and for (insert random person and random "occasion") then stopped at Hagan's.  Your Dad is heading to (insert random place said in a way that meant I should know exactly where that place was) tonight and I had to get stuff for his cooler.  (Insert random name) was in there and said (insert random bit of gossip that I'm so far removed from that it doesn't matter...) Your Dad's in there in his chair taking a nap right now.  I swear, he can sleep on command.  I've got to figure out something to feed him before he goes. 


Me:  You know he's a big boy right... he can take care of himself.


Mom:  Maybe YOU should tell HIM that.  So did you have your doctor's appointment today?


Me: Yeah, I'm heading home now. 


Mom:  How did it go?  What was your blood pressure?


Me:  120/64.


Mom:  Hmmmm... that's high for you.  Better than 2 weeks ago, but what did she say?


Me:  She wants to keep an eye on it.  Said that it's still in the normal range, but high for me.


Mom:  What else? 


Me:   Um, well I had some protein in my urine again and little swelling in my feet, so she wants to run some baseline tests to know where things are at.  Testing my liver enzymes to make sure it's not the same thing I had with Suttie.

Mom: And then what? 

Me:  Um, well if things don't come back like she wants, possible bedrest.  I asked about getting induced at 39 weeks like she mentioned before and she started talking about what would happen if I was induced at 38 weeks...I'm kinda freaking out a little.

Mom:  Are you drinking enough water?  You need to get your feet up.  I had to do that for 10 days with your sister after my water broke.  That will help with the swelling.  Make sure you aren't sitting on your legs.  That's how I was sitting when my water broke.  I'm going to get my bag packed just in case and I'll let them know at the Courthouse what's going on so incase I have to take off, but you are going to be fine.  That baby will come when he or she is good and ready.

Me: I know.  I'm just having a little panic attack. 

Mom: Well of course you are, you're my daughter.  I'm going to have my phone right here with me.  You call me any time.  I have the phone right by my bed and I won't be able to sleep if I know you aren't able to sleep.

Me:  I know.  I'll be fine.  I need to get going anyway.  The boys are (insert some random form of oneryness).  I just wanted to let you know what was going on.  I should know more about the tests in a few days.

Mom:  Ok Hunny.  Let me know what they say.  Give those Doll Babies a big squeeze for me.  I'll talk to you soon, and call if you need me.  Love you!

Me:  Love you too.  I'll talk to you soon.

I'm calling her, but if I thought her cell reception in Denver was bad.... well it REALLY sucks where she's at now!  Thank goodness I have a Hubby who says, "It is what it is, and we'll be fine!" and some wonderful friends and family who are also sitting by their phones.

 

There are so many things going on in all of our lives right now... so many things that I want to pick up the phone and call my Mom to talk about.  I miss calling her when I'm happy.  I miss calling her when I'm sad.  I miss calling her when the boys do something new or funny.  I miss calling her out when she does or says something silly.

I miss seeing her come out the front door to greet us when we get to their house. 

I miss calling it Grandma and Grandpa's house.

I miss calling to tell her what my blood pressure was.  Silly... but she cared about that.

I miss feeling like myself.

I miss....everything.

The individuality of grief is very interesting to me.

I read an article earlier this week about the things people want their friends to say or do after a loss.  But what a tricky, tricky thing that is.  What one person wants or maybe even NEEDS to hear varies so much.

People have always compared me to my Dad.  We are SO similar in SO many ways.  Yes, I apologize for this... I tend to think I got a little screwed on the gene dispersion.

My Dad goes to the cemetary several times a week.  Since Mom died, he's put up pictures of her all over the house.  He needs that.  It's part of his process.

It is NOT part of mine.

I have no desire to ever visit her grave.  Dad asks our opinion on what to put on the tombstone, and I'll tell him even if I don't want to see it. I don't want to see the trees planted in her memory, or see a light that is hung in her name.

She is dead.  I know this and I hate this and I don't want any tangible reminders of it.

I don't mind talking about her, in fact I need to talk about her, but right now I have a hard time looking at pictures of her.  That is part of my process.

And how are people to know that Lewie and "Little Lewie" can be so different?