Expecting the Unexpected

 

A little girl looks up to her mother as she is the most amazing person in the world.  She sees her as the one who can do anything. 


She can kiss an ouchy and make it feel better.

A mother can blow her breath on steamy hot food and make the temperature just right.

She sings "Do-Re-Mi" from The Sound of Music while washing your hair.

She can scold and love at the same time.

She is there when you call her from half way around the world because you're home sick.

Just the sound of her voice makes everything better.  Knowing she is in the next room while you sleep gives you security.

Children usually tell their parents that when they grow up they want to be something that makes their parents proud of them.
When I was a little girl I would tell her that when I grew up I would invent a pill that would enable her to live forever.

And I never expected to lose my mother at 26... but I did.

I didn't see it coming. 

I wasn't prepared for any of it.

And not a day goes by that I don't think about it... about her...

And I can only hope that a piece of her is in me, that I can pass down to my children. 
Because I would be so lucky...

A year has already flown right past me.  A whole year...
...and yet only a fraction of the time that will pass me by without a mother.

I've been told by many different people in different points in my life to expect the unexpected and no matter how many times I hear that phrase, and the context... I realize that we can expect it, but we cannot be prepared for it.

When Valentine's Day meant...

When Valentine's Day meant giving your entire class a mini Valentine's card with Pooh and Piglet or Mickey and Minnie on the front and a piece of candy that most often was a heart shaped lollipop.

When Valentine's Day meant taking a regular piece of paper, folding it in half, and writing a roses are red poem followed by I love you written at the end with about a hundred exclamation points after it... because back then my mother told me that all the exclamation points meant that was the indicator of how much I loved her.

Before cable television became really big, and commercials and advertisements ruined this love filled day...
Before life became complicated and it became more than just giving a box of chocolates or sweethearts to someone who made you smile and giggle.

It's not about gifts and spending tons of money...
Although, the creativity does make the difference...
Like when someone gives you a box, and inside is the world.

Or when someone bakes your favorite cake and carves it into a heart...

And you know that those things that they do sprung from their love...their unconditional and positively never-changing, never-ending love.

We remind ourselves of what Valentine's Day meant before, and hope that it can still be about creativity and throughtfulness, unconditional love and sweetness.

Searching...

I'm constantly searching...

for answers...
for a way to heal...
for a way to cope...
for a way to believe that it'll all be okay...
for a way to know...


I'm constantly wanting, looking, and thinking about how hard it is to move forward while knowing such a big part of me is missing.

Advice from friends and colleagues that it will be okay, and it'll get better... it'll become easier...
And I wonder how.  That's a question that still doesn't have an answer, and may never have an answer.  Maybe there is an infinite number of answers, and not a single one is the right one.

I can more easily say that I understand how my mother felt when her mother passed away.  And I think about everything she was able to share with her, that I won't be able to share with my mother.
Walking down the aisle in a white gown...
Bringing children into the world...
Shopping together, and knowing she would always give an honest opinion...
Laughing and crying...
Arguing in Yiddish while people stare in confusion...
And always making up no matter how horrible the words are...
Watching our "chick flick" movies together while I fell asleep on her bed...

And even as I sit here, I think about how she would console me.  The things she would say and how she looked.  And I hope I never forget any of it.