Things my mother told me

In the fall I start thinking of my mom more than usual. This is around the time that she died and Suicide Awareness is all around. I even went back and listened to some voicemails from her that I have saved. That sounds weird, but it's actually kind of comforting.

I think she would be surprised at some of the lessons that she taught me that stuck. Things a child picks up on just by being around a parent. I still don't drink pop before 11am. Ever. I'll drink coffee and creamer it up enough that it probably has more calories than my beloved Dr. Pepper, but you know... coffee is a morning drink. Pop isn't to be drunk until after 11. Ever.

No tv in the mornings. We just don't do it. Morning time is for getting ready. You can read a book. Play in your room. Go back to sleep until it's time to go. But no tv. (She also didn't like radio music on in the morning either - which I made her listen to once I became an adult and was driver of the car -with it turned down low, of course.)  I don't whole-heartedly follow the no tv rule. Sometimes my boys watch a show in the morning while I'm getting ready. It keeps them happy and quiet.... until I turn it off. Then it's Meltdown City. And I think to myself, "Maybe my mother was on to something with the 'no-tv' rule."

I'm happy to say that I'm a giver. I get that from her - from both my parents actually. I donate time, energy, money when I have it.  I'm not sure if I've ever met a more giving person than my mother. If she ever saw a way to help, she would. When she heard of a neighbor's daughter's house burning down, she started a campaign in the apartment complex that she lived in to get them resources. When someone was sick, she'd come over and take care of them. When I had to work a lot, she'd come over and do my laundry. I'm so glad that I got that trait from her (except the love of doing laundry).

Don't get me wrong, she was sometimes a nutso energy sucker, but that's a blog for another time (or not).

I don't delude myself into thinking the last few years were great. They weren't that great. But they weren't that bad, and I'm happy that I was able to have a few years with her living close. I know that I tried my hardest to be a good and forgiving daughter, and to put up with her nuttiness because I knew that someday (probably not too far away) I wouldn't have a mother anymore. As crazy as she was, I miss her. She was my mom. Sometimes she is in my dreams and she's just Mom. I can hear her voice and she's usually being a little manic, but it's a comfort to me. I wake up and am happy that I was able to feel like I had a mom again, just for a few minutes.

I hate how much she's missing and how she made the choice to miss it. My children growing up. Her great-granddaughter being born. The last Twilight movie. Her two non-athletic daughters running a triathlon together. Sad.

But I do my best to keep her memory alive. We talk about Grammy with the boys. We look at pictures, and talk about the books Grammy gave Cash, or when she took him to the park, or held Declan for the first time. That's all we can do.