Memories

I'm not quite sure why my brain visited this memory this morning, but I was remembering the last time that I saw Hope Boone in person. It was in October of 2013 and we were driving to Carbondale/Murphysboro, IL for my cousin, Erin Puffer's wedding. Becca was coming up to meet us and we'd decided to meet at the co-op shopping center in Carbondale so that we could all go to the hotel together as well as do a little shopping in the co-op and international grocery store. On the way from Havana, where I'd been living with Frank, Mom and I dropped Frank off in a little town in Missouri so that he could spend a week with his new girlfriend. The trip down was uneventful and Mom and I had chatted the whole way. She'd been visiting me to help with Julian and she'd stayed with me for several months for the second time that year. James was also coming to spend the night with me for the first time since we'd started dating again in February of that same year. Though, he drove separately since he had to leave before the wedding.

While we were waiting, Mom and I wandered through the co-op and she picked several items to try from the deli counter in the store. I can't remember everything that she'd picked out, but there was a tofu dish that was seasoned with turmeric and cumin (among other things). I am not a fan of tofu, but this particular dish was the one that I remembered the best. It was so well done and I loved it. Of all the items that she'd gotten to share and try new things, that was my favorite. It actually made me want to give cooking with tofu another shot (I *still* have not done this as I'm fairly certain that no one else will eat it - even if it turns out to be delicious).

Becca wanted to pick up Ichiban Ramen from the international grocer next to the co-op grocer, so it was the perfect meeting spot. She even convinced me to try the ramen, so I bought 5 of the Miso flavored packets and took them home (they ended up being the best ramen that I have ever had, but I couldn't find them locally).

We spent a lot of time talking at the hotel and just enjoying everyone's company. We laughed so hard that we cried (that's pretty common when Mom was involved in the conversation). The next day was Erin's wedding and it was beautiful. I am so happy that I got to share that experiance with my family.

This trip was the last time that James and I saw Mom. (The funeral home wouldn't let us see her after she was taken there, despite our requests.) It was such a lovely time and I am so grateful that I was able to spend as much time with her that year as she stayed with me from January - June and then from August to October. (Thank you to Jamie for making those trips possible and to Becca for holding down the fort in Paducah while Mom stayed with me in Havana.)

I have so many good memories from 2013 specifically because of Mom.

I hope that you all are able to love on the people that matter to you. If, like me, your best friend and confidant has passed away, I hope that you have so many good memories of them that you are able to enjoy the thought of them - even if it simultaneously makes you sad and maybe melancholy.

I hope that you never take the time you spend with people you care about granted. You never know when this time will become the last time. A lot of people say that about children, because they grow and become less dependant on you and things that they did, wanted, or needed change as they get older. Eventually, they get to the point where they don't want you to pick them up (or they get too big for you to pick them up), or snuggle in bed with them, or even kiss you. And that is the nature of the beast with children, but there are so many other things that this applies to.

The week before Mom had her heart attack, she'd been in a lot of pain because of a herniated disk. She spent a lot of time on heavy duty pain killers, so she wasn't always able to talk on the phone (which was hard for me since we'd been talking for several hours every day up to that point). Since she was still feeling out of sorts, I suggesteed that instead of going down for Thankmas on the 21st like we had originally planned, Julian and I were going to come down on Christmas instead so that she had a better chance of not being in pain while her wild grandson climbing all over his Nama. The local family (Dad and Trudy, Daniel and Aimee with Zoran, and of course, Becca and Mom) exchanged gifts on the 22nd. Mom had her heart attack that evening. Julian and I left the next morning to go help and be with Becca. The last time I had texted Mom I was asking for a recipe for her German pancakes. It wasn't what I wanted our last talk to be about, but it is what it is. 

I'm not quite sure what triggered this memory, but examining it and the way it makes me feel, I have discovered that while I still miss Mom and want to be able to call or text her, or show her pictures of the kids, or talk to her about them, this memory doesn't hurt as much as it would have in past years - or even just last month on the anniversary of her death. The memory is bittersweet because I miss her very much and I still have trouble admitting that she's actually gone and accepting that I can't share any of the little (or big) things with her and make new memories with her. She was an amazing person and I am finally to the point that it doesn't feel like someone is twisting a knife in my heart when I talk about her. There are still days that are super difficult to get through, when every memory brings me to tears, and it feels like I could die from the grief, but they aren't as frequent anymore. 

I read somewhere that grief is just love with no place to go and I find that to be incredibly accurate in this case. I have so much love that I want to share with her, but she isn't here to tell. Losing her was the worst thing that I have ever been through. I don't wish this pain on anyone, but I am so glad that I got to spend 25 years with her, learning from her, laughing with and having serious or silly conversations. Spending all that time with her that last year. I will treasure these memories until the end of my life. And I will try to live my life in a way that would have made her proud. That's all that I can do to honor her memory.