Hey there, pretty lady. I haven’t heard from you since you left, and I worry, so I thought I would check in. How are the new digs? Zena said she talked to you in a dream and you said you really like the new place, so that makes me happy. How are things? How’s the coffee up there? I bet it’s heavenly. (See what I did there?) Have you seen Grandma? I hope so. I know how much you missed her. What about Grandpa? Is he owning his baldness or still sporting the toupee? God, I miss you. Are you okay?
Sorry, I’m peppering you with questions. Obviously, I have tons of them but also kind of wanted to check in and tell you about me for a bit because, to be honest, I’m struggling. Since you “you know”, everyone has been so sweet. People are always calling and texting.
I have even received letters. Actual handwritten cards in the mail. So hygge, like you.
It feels good to feel so loved. It definitely helps, but then the moment passes and I remember that you aren’t here and it hurts, a lot. Like, my heart actually hurts. Is that normal? Is it heartache or is it gas? God, I miss you telling me everything from fractured ankles to headaches are just gas.
You’ll be happy to know I am keeping family tradition alive. I have successfully raised the next generation of amazing worriers and hypochondriacs. I mean, Mia might even be worse off than me. She actually worries about worrying. I can usually get her to laugh when I point that fact out, but you know how girls are; it all depends on their mood. She’s a sweetheart, asks me to tell stories about you often. She misses you. We all do.
William doesn’t talk about you much. He’s more of a feeler, less of a talker. Unless, of course, he is saying the word “penis” on repeat. When will that stop? Please say soon. Will tends to be more on the nervous side about things. He says our dog, Kevin, is his therapy dog. Well, Kevin as well as his human buddy, Nick. Apparently, both allow Will to pet their heads when he is feeling anxious. Baseball is definitely Will’s favorite past time. He absolutely loves it… almost as much as he loves it when Mia’s friends come over. Lord, help me.
Remember when I was going through all the infertility stuff and I would cry and tell you my womb was going to be vacant forever? Then, finally, after three years, we hit the pregnancy jackpot and, for every pregnant milestone until I delivered the twins, you would remind me of how I thought I was sterile. You were right though; I was not barren. I’ve got two ten-year-olds to prove it.
The kids are awesome, mom. They really are. I am trying so hard to do a good job but really wish you were around because I could use your advice on just about everything.
I have to be honest, I can’t help but feel a little like I pulled the short straw when it came to you “peacing out” when you did. But, I get it. You had to go.
It’s just that I see all my friends’ moms doting and obsessing over their grandkids and I think about the time I had with Grandma; just sort of wish my kids could have that too. I know you had big plans too but those are the breaks, I guess.
I suppose this whole dying thing is supposed to be some giant life lesson, right? Well, in your words, “I’ve got a newsflash for ya”, lessons are being learned all over town. But what has been the biggest “ah ha” moment for me has actually been about me. I had no idea I was this strong–not a clue. From start to finish, I had to dig deep and power through so that I could help you power through and, wouldn’t you know it, I survived! Holy crap, I think I can handle anything at this point. But, you know what else I discovered through this entire process?
Life really is short and I want to make my time count while I am here. You were so right. It really is about the moments!
Your life and departure has given me insight and clarity on how I want to live the rest of mine. Change is definitely on the horizon for your first born. I love you so much it hurts.
P.S. Send me a sign woman!