59 reasons

I love you....

1. You weren't afraid to let your hair grow gray
2. You showed me women didn't need to wear makeup to be beautiful
3. You instilled a distrust of pantyhose
4. You taught me how to manage my money before most of my friends even had money
5. You let me get a rabbit as a pet
6. You displayed patience that I can only hope to achieve
7. You taught me fractions
8. You accidentally taught me an Irish drinking song
9. You found money for summer camp
10. You made me laugh every time I spoke to you
11. You planted flowers where ever we lived
12. You had true compassion for your fellow man
13. You got me a phone when I was 13
14. When I was 11 you shared me special powder after a bath because I was feeling so hormonal
15. You bought me bath gel that you wouldn't even buy yourself because of the cost
16. You suggested I share my middle name with my daughters
17. No one else's mom had green eyes
18. Even though I was you never made me feel like an accident
19. You bought me groceries when I lived in Vegas
20. You had more friends than most people have hair on their heads
21. You honored your mother, even when she drove you crazy
22. You taught me the importance of knowing your family history
23. You told me to finish a semester of college before I got married
24. You scrimped and worked so we never had to leave my childhood neighborhood
25. You made up songs for each of my baby girls
26. You yelled at the neighborhood creepy boy for me
27. You brought me mac & cheese when I was babysitting for the "all organic/sushi" family
28. You cheered at all of my junior high meets and games
29. You showed me that family is more than just the people related to you
30. You believed me when I told you I didn't steal the Baileys (I really didn't either!)
31. You had a life that revolved outside of me
32. But also made me feel like I was your world
33. You never told me how hard teenage girls are
34. You let me call you "Mammy" when we lived in Texas
35. You never kept me from my father, even when he was a huge jerk to you
36. You let me figure stuff out on my own
37. You introduced me to Josh Groban
38. You paid $25 for my flute for 3 years
39. You took me on roadtrips
40. You taught me how to cross stitch and knit
41. I never went without what I needed
42. You watched "Pride and Prejudice" with me
43. The last thing you told me was that you loved me
44. When the world was crumbling around you, you faced it with dignity and grace
45. I never saw you stressed out
46. The best quote I ever learned was hanging in your house
47. You watched Dr. Quinn and Saturday Night Live with in the same night
48. You taught me how to ride my bike
49. You let me order cream pies for dessert
50. You gained 60 pounds when you were pregnant only to have a 6lb 9 oz baby
51. You knew I was sick before I did or my Dr.'s believed it
52. You found me a mid-wife for my delivery with Ky
53. You let me change schools
54. You guilted me into getting my first tattoo
55. You loved with your whole heart
56. You took me to church
57. You defended me
58. You wouldn't let me be a statistic
59. You were born on August 10, 1952

Happy Birthday Mom.

I miss you.

Lilacs

When we first moved to Colorado it was March which meant there was snow on the ground. Brian had bought the house with me only having seen it via the internet so I had no true idea as to what it looked like. Within a few days of moving here I flew with my 9 year old and 6 month old to Alaska to be with my Mother who, for those who don't know, had been diagnosed with Stage 4 lung cancer in February.

It's a good guess that I didn't pay much attention to my house. I didn't really care about it because I was worried about my new baby, and my move from Tucson to Colorado and finding a job and helping my 9 year old adjust and oh yeah, my mother dying.

I especially didn't care about my back yard. I could see it was large from my sliding glass doors in the kitchen but that was about all I cared about.

But I noticed it for the first time on Mothers Day of that year, 2005. I was in the kitchen and the radio was playing. It played a song called "No One Will Ever Love Me (that way again)" by Rebecca Lynn Howard. I had never heard the song before and it caught me off guard because it was about a Mother's love and reduced me to a sobbing mess. You see, I knew already that it was my Mother's last Mothers Day even though everyone around me either wouldn't acknowledge it or didn't believe it.

I sat at my dining room table crying my eyes out while my then husband sat across from my helpless but trying to comfort me. I looked up from the table when a familiar scent grabbed me and for the first time that spring I looked outside my kitchen door. There, in bright bloom with a strong lilac smell was this huge purple lilac tree to the side of the house.

I believe in signs and I believe that signs tell me when I'm on the right or wrong track and for me this was a STRONG sign. You see, while Iris's were my mothers favorite flower, she loved lilac trees. One of her boyfriends after she and my father divorced had once given her a lilac tree as a gift (I can't remember why now) but sadly Alaska wasn't the place for lilacs. I know she kept it in that pot for awhile but I think it eventually just succumbed. She may have planted it but it never grew, it's hard to say for me know, over 20 years later. I just remember her loving them.

Since that spring in 2005 my lilac tree has never really thrived or bloomed like it did that year. My Mother in law tells me it's because we've had so many late freezes in the years since and it just does a number on the lilacs.

This year though the winter was mild. This morning I took this picture:

Right before I came down stairs to write this post I stood at my kitchen door and looked at my backyard. It's very different from when I first moved in but one thing this year was very much like that first year.

I can smell the lilacs again.

Happy Mothers Day Mom.

Bin Laden

I actually missed the breaking news that Osama Bin Laden was dead. I heard about it almost 2 afters it happened.

My first thoughts were "And?"

Because I think we generally know that terrorist organizations will not just pack up and go home now. The biggest bully in the yard is gone but that doesn't mean there aren't others just WAITING to take his spot. In fact it seems US Diplomats were put on high alert in case of retaliation. So are we safer today than yesterday?

I don't think so.

While I would like to think that in my normal everyday existence I do not wish for the death of any human being, this is one that I will make an exception for and I will be okay with the consequences of that death wish. But that's pretty existential for me and not a part of my everyday life.

But then I received a text from my friend Mia who reminds me what the death of such a mass murder means. What it really means.

You see, her fiance Doug was killed in action in Iraq almost exactly 6 years ago. This month. While I would never accuse Mia of waiting around and not living her life I know that a lot of dreams died for her then.

So tonight, the man she holds personally responsible for the death of her man who would have been her husband, would have been the father of her children, would have been there to hold her every night is dead.

And it brings her peace.

Justice is served.

Heartbroken

Even after all this time,

the sun never says to the Earth

"You owe me".

Look what happens

with a love like that

it lights the whole sky.

-Hafiz

Brian received orders a couple of weeks ago now. He wanted to take both girls with him. I said no. I offered to let Kylie decide. I was certain, based on the way she talked about their home that she wouldn't want to move their full time.

I was wrong.

She wants to move with them to Las Vegas.

My heart is broken into a million pieces.

She says she wants to move, to try a new school. She says she loves me but she wants to go somewhere warm. I hear her. I know her. I still cry.

I have raged. I have been mean. I lash out at her because I hurt so bad. No one said I was always a good mother or a completely mature one.

I love her. I will miss her every moment of every day that she is away from me. I am her mother. She belongs with her mother.

But she does not owe me. That quote at the top reminded me of that today. She does not owe it to me to stay with me.

Despite being her mother, despite loving her from the depths of my soul, despite spoiling her, despite holding her hand at every teenage crisis (real or imagined), she does not owe it to me to stay.

That does not mean that I am any less hurt or heartbroken. It just puts my mind in a different place. A better place.

Because I think I have a love that lights up her whole sky.

Enough to say "You do not owe me for any of it".

I'm not sad for me, I'm sad for you

"Does it get better?" she asks me, wet eyes seeking mine.

"It does." I answer.

"When?"

"Everyday it's a little better. Today is better than when you got the call. Tomorrow will be better than today."

"I don't feel better."

"Some days you can't feel the better. Some days you're so numb you wouldn't know better if it smacked you upside the head and called you Earl."

She laughs.

"I still get mad and then I feel worse than before." She confesses.

"Me too."

"Really?" She seems surprised.

"Yep. Some days I'm so mad I can't talk. Some days I'm so sad that I feel like I'm drowning. But those days are less and less now. Mostly it's just around her birthday and the day she died."

"So that won't go away?"

"No, probably not. Or if it does it takes longer than 5 years. Or maybe just a better person."

"I wish I had known. I wish I had time to tell her...."she starts to cry.

"You never would have felt like it was enough. I promise you. You would constantly wish for one more day, one more phone call, one more conversation. It would never be enough."

"I try to see her in my dreams but I never do." She's crying in full now.

"I was so mad for a long time too. Everyone else saw my Mom in their dreams but me. It was like she said goodbye to everyone else but ignored me. Months later she finally came to me in a dream.

She told me that she had heard I wanted to talk to her one last time. She sat down at my kitchen table and told me about Heaven. She described it kinda like Florida for retired people. She complained about the smallness of her garbage can. She was wearing a pink sparkly shirt, something she never would have worn before. She told me she loved me. She told me she was proud of me. She told me she was sorry she had to go so soon." now I'm crying and laughing.

"So you think I'll still see her?"

"I do. But you can't make that happen. You have to trust that you'll get the message you're supposed to get when you're supposed to get it."

"I still want to call her. Everyday."

"I still pick up the phone to call her sometimes. Or I think to myself, I can't wait to tell Mom about this." I'm pulling myself together finally.

"I don't know who else to talk to. I'm sorry I made you cry."

"You didn't make me cry. I'm sad for you. I'm so sorry you have to go through this."

I mean it. I'm really not crying for my mom.

I'm crying because she just lost hers.

For my friends Kim and Theresa who both have lost their mothers in the last 6 weeks. It really does get better.

August 10th

August 10th was yesterday and for the most part I kept myself incredibly busy all day. Well as busy as I could, what with working and PTO and driving and all.

But everytime I had a free moment, everytime my mind had a spare second to wander it went right back to playing the same game.

What if?

I personally HATE the What If game. I hate when people play it with me professionally (What if I got laid off and I was hit by a 800lb gorilla on the way to work the day before my last day?).

I hate when my children play the What If game with me also. (What if I smacked William in the head with a plate?)

I hate when friends play it. (What if I dated a married man, just for fun?)

I hate the What If game.

But yesterday my mind kept going back to it with every passing moment and I had to work really hard to keep it focused elsewhere.

You see, yesterday was supposed to be my mother's 58th birthday. She passed away at 52, 3 months before turning 53. Yesterday my mind wanted to play What If She had lived.

You probably can see why this game sucks. But in case you don't here's what my brain was doing.

What if she had never gotten sick? Where would she have traveled? Would she have remodeled something else in her house? Would she have bought a new car? Would she have gone to Russia? Paris? Italy? Would she have moved you to Alaska when you got divorced? Would you have gotten divorced? Would she have come for Christmas every year? Would you have married Micah? What would she have thought of a grandson? Would she have liked the name William? Would she still be working there? What would she have said when you got your job?, got your certification? grew your garden?

It was like that, the same questions, all day long when it was quiet.

And it all begins with the same question.

What if She had lived?

I hate the What If game.

The death of the mother is the first sorrow wept without her

Dear Mama,

What a difference a year makes, right?

As you know, I managed to elope last July and quickly have my 1 year anniversary approaching. I think it’s fitting that for this anniversary I’m taking Micah to Alaska. I feel like when we get there he’ll understand me better (although he pretty well understands me now). I feel like he’ll help me to see the magic of Alaska again since I haven’t been able to even stomach the idea of it since you left. True, I did go back to Alaska once, when Lizzie was around 2. The magic was gone and nothing I did would bring it back. I’m hoping that by showing Micah my childhood places and things that were important and meant something to you and me some of that magic will come back. I would like to be able to think of Alaska as my home and not just the place I grew up from time to time.

I had a baby too. My first (and only) boy. He is pretty much the spitting imagine of me as a baby (despite Micah’s claims to the contrary) and is precious. He has the fat rolls that you always loved in your grandchildren and I can’t help but think you would enjoy all the belly laughs and sloppy kisses he likes to give. I can see that picture of you as an infant, the black and white one, and I think he probably is the baby that most resembles that picture. I wish you could have made up songs while you changed his diaper and fed him inappropriate foods when I wasn’t looking.

His name is William. Dora reminded me that William Doyle was a pretty well known character from our family history and so that helps tie him to you in my mind since I just couldn’t bring myself to name him Julian. Sorry. Additionally it is thought that Mr. Darcy in the Pride & Prejudice saga was named Fitzwilliam Darcy. I’m going with it which would make me 2 for 3 on characters named for Pride & Prejudice characters. If only Kylie would let me change her name to Jane (although she probably is more of a Lydia) I could be 3 for 3. She’s no fun.

Speaking of Kylie, she has made a super improvement from last year and is hurling head first towards high school. I can’t imagine my baby in high school and yet I am so excited for her at the same time. It’s odd to me to think that when you left she was only 9. She wasn’t even in the double digits. Now she’s about to be a freshman in high school and we are having serious discussions about college majors and campus tours. How can 5 years have flown by so quickly and how can a person have changed so much in that time?

The other day Nana sent Lizzie a Kindergarten graduation card. She wrote in it that you had bought the card for Kylie when she was in Kinder but had forgotten to send it. So that in a way, it’s like you sent the card to Lizzie, just that Nana wrote the words. I cried after she read it to me. Her response was “Grandma Julie? I love my Grandma Julie!”

Interestingly enough, Micah pulled out a tub that had been in my shed for, oh, about 5 years. He told me there were some clothes in. I went to take a look and oddly enough, it was full of clothes from when Kylie was wearing a 5-7. Most of them are Gymboree and so it was almost like getting a care package from you for Lizzie. We put it back and will go through everything this fall when she moves up to a 6, in age, if not in size.

Brian got married last week Mom. It was hard. Harder than I thought it would be and I still can not bring myself to ask Kylie how it went. She has blessedly not tried to tell me about it either. I know that he and I have been divorced for well over a year and I think you’ll agree, I’m in a much better place now, but he married HER. The night of his wedding I was so wishing I could call you and rage about how unfair it is that he married her and she got to have a huge wedding and large reception and wear white when she is HER. I know you would have understood since Harvey also married your HER. I can hear you in my mind saying, “NO FAIR NO FAIR!” That’s how I felt that night, like a child saying NO FAIR!

Work continues to be work. I test for my PHR next month which is stressful because of the studying. I’ve never been good at studying and this is stressful, knowing I need to know everything about everything and not being sure that I can or do. Sometimes things happen at work that I just wish I could talk to a more seasoned HR person and say “What the hell is wrong with those people?” I know you’d get that.

5 years Mom. How can it have been 5 years already since you left? I keep trying to tell myself that you had to go. God had bigger plans for you. You’re in a better place and I shouldn’t want you to come home. Except you raised a very selfish, spoiled brat, and all I can say is, I wasn’t ready yet. I still needed my Mommy. Being an adult is only an illusion and it’s only based on age and those times when I really, really, really need you I think that it’s NO FAIR NO FAIR!

I need to close now Mom. But I want to tell you about a dream I had not long ago about you.

It was you and I and Micah and we were going on a cruise to Mexico. We were at the dock, about to get onboard and you told me you didn’t have your passport. I got really frustrated with you because you were going to need it if you were going to depart the ship. I told you I would run home to grab but and you told me that it was expired. And I was mad at you because you died long after US Citizens needed their passports to get into Mexico and I told you that you knew better. I told you that when you were alive a US Passport was needed to get into Mexico and now I didn’t know if you could even come on the trip with us. You told me that you could get on the ship but you wouldn’t be able to come with Micah and me where we were going.

I know there is meaning there Mom. I know you’re with me in Spirit, if not in Body. But I just can’t help but remember how angry I was that you hadn’t bothered to renew your passport so you could come with me anyways. I wish you could come with us. Still.

Love,
Pumpkin Head

Mothers Day

Mother's Day is, naturally, a bittersweet day to me. On the one hand I am blessed with 3 wonderful children. I know beyond measure how truly blessed I am and how each of them is unique and wonderful and the fact that I get to be their mother is somethings overwhelming. Who thought THAT would be a good idea?

But on the other hand, I am minus a mother. This is the 4th Mother's Day my mom has been gone and it tears me up inside still.

The last Mother's Day she was still here was awful. I knew it was her last. We had been told in February that she might have a year with successful chemo treatment and sheer luck. So while I was expecting one more Christmas with her I knew that May 2005 was her last Mother's Day. And I was heartbroken.

I sent her a poetry book about Mothers and an Iris bookmark and cried repeatedly all day that day. Sometimes the words "I love you" just aren't enough and it felt like no matter how many times I told her I loved her, she would never really know the depth of how I felt about her. How much I needed her. There are no real words to tell someone that honestly.

I know a lot of people feel that way. So they come up with other things to say to convey how much they love someone when " I love you just isn't enough". My mom and I had ours since for a long time it was just the two of us.

Me: How much do you love me Mommy?
Her: Up to the sky and back down again.

At 2 and 3 and 4 and 5 that seems like such a huge amount. That someones love could go all the way up and back down again seems enormous.It still is.

I have very few pictures of my mother and I together growing up. It seems as though she was always the one taking the pictures, whether it be me hanging out with a 20lb cabbage or performing at a Christmas show in the mall or running a mile in 8th grade. She was always there, my childhood is well documented. She and I just don't appear together very often.

I will share this though. Just keep in mind, this was taken June, 1979. I don't have much hair and hers, well, let's just say, it was in style for the times.

I miss you Mommy.

Up to the sky and back down again.

The Big C

This is kinda a crummy topic for my moms birthday. At yet, it's fitting too in a way.

You see, today is my mother's 57th birthday. I miss her. Aside from May 26th, August 10th is a really tough one for me too. I wish she were celebrating another year, getting closer to the milestone of 60, telling me more of her vacation adventures, making plans to come meet the baby etc. The lack of celebrating bothers me and I generally avoid the card section of the grocery store for at least 2 weeks prior to today. Hallmark doesn't see a hair of mine in July or August because I just can't handle those stupid cards yet. It's a process.

Cancer is such an insidious thing. It's a stealer of so many things, wonderful things. It's like a thief in the night, taking away security, hope and plans for the future. It takes away loved ones, friends and even random people I didn't have the pleasure of knowing personally. But who were loved and cared for by other people.

My mother had cancer. Her father did too. My father has had it, my half brother has had it and if I recall correctly 2 of my maternal aunts have had it. Not all the same kinds of cancer, but cancer none the less.

We recently found out that Micah's sweet grandmother has cancer. Luckily it's been caught in the early stages and her prognoses so far is good. She is his last remaining grandparent and I would ask those that pray to send out a prayer of healing for her as she is frail and is getting up there in age. She should have surgery hopefully in the next couple of months and we're hoping for a speedy recovery for her.

Back to me. It's my blog after all.

I get angry when I see those yellow Livestrong bracelets. I physically have to look away from them. I know that's wrong. I know it's not what my mom would want. It's certainly not how I want to behave.

When my mother was diagnosed with Cancer she and Nana ordered a ton of those things. They gave them to everyone at no cost. I had one, Kylie had one, Brian had one. Brian actually got into an argument with his Commander over it because those aren't approved Air Force regulation jewelry. Brian got to wear it anyways. I wasn't as diligent about wearing mine as others were like Nana, my Aunts and Uncles and even my then husband.

It was because I felt like they were lies. Live Strong. Livestrong. Sounds simple. Incredibly inspiring words on a yellow plastic bracelet. But I saw my mother. She was not physically strong. Cancer stole that from her. She needed assistance to get from point A to point B. She couldn't shower herself or use the toilet unaided. She didn't want to eat most of the time.

Her spirit was strong at times. When she called me back after I found out she had cancer and talked to me about it. That was strong. When she was calm in the face of all the chaos that surrounded her life those last few months, that was strong.

But her spirit wasn't always strong. She was afraid sometimes too. And she was sad. Sad she would never see her grandchildren grow up, never shop for them again. She would miss her friends, her sisters, her nieces and nephews. For awhile she talked about a miracle that would save her, so that she wouldn't die. Then she stopped. She must have known. Her miracle was going to Heaven, not staying here. But I still know she was sometimes sad about the things she would miss. And sad for the people who would miss her.

So Live Strong seems like such a lie to me. It was like a false promise, an order, a command to be strong in the face of Cancer. And she tried. And in spirit she was most of the time. And that still didn't save her. It was a lie.

At least to me. I'm obviously still a little raw, 4 years later.

But I still can't look at those stupid yellow bracelets.

A revelation - of sorts

Sorry that I didn't post on Friday. I'm sure all 2 of my readers were devastated that I took a day off from my prolific posting. :)

The truth is that I was simply too emotional to post on Friday, even though I wanted to. But every time I sat down to write I ended up crying. When I'm crying it's hard to focus and I either need to give into my sadness or suck it up and stop the crying. 99 times out of 100 I suck it up. But when it comes to grief over my mother I try not to do that and just let the grief do it's thing.

Every morning after my shower I turn on the Discovery Health Channel (I think) and watch Bringing Home Baby. It's a show that chronicles the first 36 hours of a new baby's life and more importantly how the parents/siblings/pets handle the newest addition. I like the new baby part but hate the birth part of most of those kinds of shows (A baby story for example) and this show deals with POST birth so I'm a happy camper.

Except that Friday it dawned on me that my mother wont come to help me this time. In the past I always knew my mother was going to help me with my babies. I knew she would come and make my favorite foods and make sure I ate and slept and showered and she would make up these ridiculous songs for the new baby that she would sing as she changed their diapers or clothes or whatever. (I still know ALL the songs by the way. I have video of me singing one of my mothers silly songs to Lulu when she was 3 months old)

I guess that logically I knew I wouldn't have my mother to help this time but emotionally I kind of blocked it out. Until Friday. When I, in a very panicked way, asked Micah if he was really going to be home with me when I had the baby. Because I've never done a baby alone before. I mean, I've generally done it without a MAN around, but I've always had at least my mother and occasionally more women to assist me post baby. My 3 Aunts came to visit when Kylie was a week or so old and my mother in law and grandmother in law came to visit along with my Mother and Dora when Lulu was born.

For the record, Micah assured me he will take his week of paternity leave AND another week of vacation so I wont be all alone.

This thought though, it led to more thoughts. More revelations. When my mother came down when Lulu was born I specifically requested Meat Gravy and Mashed potatoes. I have tried to explain this meal to Micah with limited success, mostly because of the gravy consistency. She didn't get a chance to make it since her visit and my in-laws visit overlapped and she didn't have time.

So she promised she would make it when they came down for Thanksgiving. Except we never had time. She swore she would make it for me at Christmastime when they came down. Time escaped us then too. She was unsure if she would make it down for Easter because she was having surgery on her foot and would be using a lot of time off for that in January.

Except in February we found out she had Stage 4 lung cancer.

I went down in March to visit for Easter but she had no appetite. I don't even know that we had an actual Easter meal that year.

I asked her if she would tell me how to make it when we came down for Christmas. She said she would.

She never made it to Christmas.

It's a stupidly simple meal that I can't make right. I've tried. It's freaking hamburger, flour, water and mashed potatoes for crying out loud. I just can't seem to get it right.

My mother will never come see my new baby. She'll never make me that meat gravy and mashed potatoes. She wont make up silly songs or talk about her first grandson and threaten to dress him up in pink dresses.

And it's like I didn't know that until Friday.

An open letter to my mom

Dear Mom,

What a crazy year it's been. Last year when I wrote you I will just in the process of a divorce. In fact, I hadn't even filed yet. There was still a thought that maybe it wouldn't end that way. But it did and I believe, and I think you would agree, for the best. He's still the man you remember, still a good man. Just a man that wasn't meant for me.

As you may already be aware, depending on your view from heaven, I have a new man in my life. A man that never knew you and despite my best efforts and stories and meeting of my family, never will. Not truly. That makes me sad because it feels as though that connection is so lost now. I don't have another adult who automatically understands my quirky words (sockses anyone?) or why a Godiva Starfish and Oyster are the best Christmas gifts ever.

I learned a lot about myself this year mom. I remember after your divorce and all that self discovery that you went through and I think about that. I went through the same thing. Finding myself amid the ashes of who I was. Realizing that in the process of my marriage I had lost so much of who I was and what I believed that I didn't know if I would ever truly find my way back. I'm getting there. There are still days where it's easier to revert. To look down at the ground when a man walks in the room. To apologize a million times for things I have no control over. But I no longer worry about walking on eggshells around my man and I found my voice and my opinion, hidden in the corner on my mind. They are easier to take out and practice now than they were before. That change that has made for my children has been remarkable.

Speaking of children, I hope you've been keeping track of your progeny. In case you haven't, well when you left there were only 2 granddaughters to add to your branch of the family tree. There will soon be a 3 grandchild although whether it's a girl or a boy is still unknown. Micah hopes for a boy. I dream of another little girl. We'll find out soon enough because I'm not a surprise person but you probably already know your sweet little grandchild. I believe it anyways. I believe because you both are in heaven you've both been introduced. If not you should totally seek them out. I don't know a lot about this newest addition yet but I suspect s/he likes to dance. Perhaps a cheerleader like it's Grandma?

Kylie has gone through a lot of change this year. She's finding herself and who she is. The divorce I believe was hard on her but also good. Sure, it's hard to see your parents separate and live in a different place. But it's also nice that she gets so much more one on one time with her dad than she used to. It's screwed her up a little bit and if you've been paying attention in therapy I think the lack of a family group for most of her life has been weird. She isn't used to Micah hanging around all the time and constantly says that I spend all the time with him. I have tried to show her time and again that I'm not spending all of my time with him. That we spend our time doing things with Lulu as a family and that she is always welcomed and invited. But she isn't used to this "family time" and it's hard for her. I hope as time goes on she'll get more used to it. Honestly, I suspect that a lot of her therapy has more to do with Brian than with me. But it's always easier to blame the parent that's around than the parent who is absent.

Lizzie continues to be herself. She's become a little whiny as of late and clingy. I suspect it's due to my exhaustion and lack of feeling well that she feels a little left out. I can't carry her as much as I used to and I often push off bedtime to Micah when I feel nauseous or exhausted. She is excited about the upcoming baby, mostly because she has no idea what she's in for. But you may remember, she's always been a fan of the baby, always been a little mother. She believes that I have a baby in my belly and she has a fish in hers. Her fish eats all of her food like my baby eats all of mine, at least according to her. Which would explain 4 plates of rice and chicken last night. That or a tape worm. I can't believe she's going into Kindergarten this fall. I am amazed and awed by how much she has changed since you left. When you left she wasn't even crawling and now, here she is, ready to be a Darth Mouth kid.

Micah. Mom, you'd love Micah. I was always confused when you would lament that you just wanted someone who would cherish me, even long after I was married. I didn't truly understand what you meant but then, I didn't really understand marriage either then. Micah cherishes me. Micah believes I'm special. He is the man you wanted for me. He's my yang to my ying. He gets me in a way that I don't know I've been "got" before. He makes me laugh until I cry and is always there to take care of me. He is getting a crash course in Step Parenting 101 and is about to graduate to the Daddy 201 course in the next few months. He loves the kids and gets them too and they like him. Well, Lizzie loves him. Kylie is getting there. I suspect she likes him a lot more than she lets on but honestly she's a teenager and is a little slower about change than Lizzie is.

As for me? Well I continue to work and often say to myself, if no one else, WWJD? Only, as you know, more often than not the phrase is really What Would Julie Do. That gets me through so many tough situations I can not even begin to tell you. But then, you already know I suppose. I don't love my current job but I love the potential behind it. I'm so glad to be in HR and I often wish I had someone to share it all with. You were so knowledgeable, more than I realized at the time. I hope to test for my PHR next year and I hope you'll sit on my shoulder then. Not exactly to tell me the answers but to be my cheerleader.

I gotta go Mom. I hope you're out there and that you read this. I miss you every minute of every day. I'm glad my grief is different now than it used to be but it's still there. Reminding me that I'm not completely okay with your loss just yet.

Love,
Lace