So, mom moved into her mansion back on Oct. 10. It’s been a rough month since then to say the least. Easier than I would have expected, but don’t let anyone ever tell you that losing a parent isn’t a big deal. I don’t care how old they were, it still sucks. I try to console myself with that thought occasionally; it would have been difficult even if she had made it to 92 like I expected. Boo.
The big thought I try to carry with me these days, though, comes from the wise Dr. Seuss. Love that man. “Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.” When I’m feeling gipped out of the 23 years I’m missing, I try to remember that I did get 40 great ones. And it’s 40 years of memories that keep running through my head these days, causing more tears than smiles right now, but I’ll get there. Here’s a sampling just from this week.
We voted Tuesday. My mom was so excited the first time I got to vote. I had class at 8 am (early bird back in college) and she had me to the poll first thing so I could be the first one to vote that day. I think of that every time I go to vote and this week was no exception. I’m not sure we ever really discussed it. The idea that you voted every time the polls were open was just an accepted concept in my family. As is the fact that we never agree on anything we vote on. 🙂
I got a haircut Thursday. Started a few tears in the chair as I was reminded of all the times my mom did my hair. She used to give us permanents back in the 80s when big hair was all the rage. One time, mine got just a bit too big and I recall crying and trying to wash it in hopes of relaxing it. Didn’t work as I recall. Learned to live with it. She also pin curled it when I was really young, leaving us to sleep all night with an assortment of bobby pins, toilet paper and Dippity Doo under a stocking cap. I look adorable in the pictures, but when I do it today, I get a huge mass of frizz. Le sigh.
I went to Target Wednesday. Right beside it is the McDonald’s that’s shaped like a Happy Meal. We stopped there to get ice cream cones after my June concert, the first (and now only) concert my mom made it to. Many tears ensued that day over something so very trivial.
They had a music task Sunday on the Amazing Race – learn and play a piece of music on an accordion. My mom got one once, determined to teach herself to play. In some ways, it’s easy if you already know how to play the piano. In others, not so much. Can’t for the life of me remember if she was successful or what happened to it.
The French seem very fond of making miniatures of the building you’re in. Saw them inside of Notre Dame, the Pantheon and one other that I can’t remember here in Paris. My mom would often come up to go to the State Fair with me. Unlike Kevin, she liked to see the quilts and crafts, so made a much better partner. One year, they had the miniature replica of the White House there and she could have spent all day looking at that thing. Her favorite fair thing for years.
I saw a lady and her mom at the Louvre today. Lady was in her upper 50s, maybe 60s; mom in her 80s. Missed much of the gorgeous art from the time of Darius because of tears. I always expected my dad would go first and my mom would join Kevin and I on trips like this one. When I saw them, it made me remember the things I wasn’t going to get rather than the things that I had. Far greater pain there.
Love you, mom. Will miss you until I see you again.
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