Dear Mom, The check-in lines at CHS were so long today... the end of Spring Break... I should have realized. I walked through the door and was met with a mass of people seeping out past the outlined stanchions. I didn't have any bags to check since I wasn't catching a flight--I just had to get a gate pass to meet the girls at B4. As I waited in the crowd, a frizzy-haired woman approached the group of us at the end of a clearly-marked line and asked the general public, "Is this line for Southwest?" Not being the one closest to her, I assumed someone else would answer, but when no one did, I chimed in with a simple "Yes" and a smile-- smiles are invisible under masks. She mumbled something about needing to make sure first and, thinking she was going to join the line, I made room. Except, she moved to pass through instead, wheeling her bag behind. It seemed strange. I thought she was looking for this exact line. I shrugged it off-- until she spoke again. As she walked through, without even making eye contact she said, "Cast your cares" and continued on her way. It was unmistakable. My eyes welled with tears. ... Mom? I still had to go through security even though I brought nothing with me... physically, at least. My mind was still cluttered, heavy, and now a bit confused... what was that? Why did she say that to me? There was no context for it... I hadn't said anything to her besides, "Yes." I took off my flip-flops and put them on the conveyor. I couldn't get the stranger's words out of my head... "cast your cares"... just like you'd always say. I stepped through the checkpoint, put my shoes back on, and started walking to the gate where the plane would be letting the girls out shortly... and then I heard it... a very distinct voice singing out. Van Morrison. Your favorite. It was the song, "Jackie Wilson Said"--not one of his most popular ones, but I knew it... it was one you liked to sing while you watered your plants... and despite the airport noise pollution, the lyrics were clear: Ding a ling a ling Ding a ling a ling ding I'm in heaven, I'm in heaven... ... You must've heard my silent cries this morning wishing you were still here. I definitely felt your presence today... and... I'll try... and I know. I miss you, Mom. Love always, "Pookie"
Tag: moving on
4 April 2021: No Easter bunny this year.
Dear Mom, I didn't make Easter baskets this year. I didn't want to. The girls already have so much--so many lovely things... we've truly all been blessed in so many ways. Aria even said to tell the Easter Bunny that he can skip over our house so that he has extra to share with other kids who might need the surprises more. You'd have been proud. I was. She added that she didn't think Norah Jane would mind either since she's "too little to eat candy and doesn't have any teeth yet". Speaking of the baby, I know there have been a lot of changes since she was born--and although the older two understand the need to share their time with me, I still want to make sure they know that their importance doesn't diminish... their place in my life isn't any less prominent because there's one more to share my triply-expanded heart with. I remember the little notes you'd leave for Jenn, Tris, and I with "token gifts" as you'd call them... and how you always seemed to know how to make a single item mean so much more than any room filled with presents ever could. A musical snow globe... a stuffed giraffe plush that could fit into the palm of my hand... a hand-written letter, or a simple candy cane ornament. It was your heart... the love woven into every aspect of you being our Mom. I thought about it, but I didn't make any Easter baskets this year. Instead, I purchased 2 empty books with delicately decorated pages and penned a letter in each--hopefully the first of many. The girls are growing up so fast and I never want to miss out on our time together... you've taught me how precious it truly is... and how fleeting. I still cherish our letters to each other, me and you... except now, tears accompany the smiles as I read. I miss you, Mom. Love always, "Pookie"
19 January 2021: I’m gonna swing from the chandelier.
Dear Mom, It's almost been 4 months since you left and although I haven't been writing as much, I haven't been thinking about you any less... and your absence hasn't been hurting any less either. I think it actually aches more the closer it gets to the baby being here... because you're not. And you were so excited about her making her debut on/around your birthday, too. I hope she does... wouldn't that be something? You already know what she looks like, don't you? What color her hair will be... her eyes... the curve of her smile... will she be happy? I worry that all of the sadness I've felt with her growing inside of me... all of the missing you... somehow makes her sad too... like she'll be less content because of my mourning or that my grief passes through to her just like the nutrients from the foods that I eat. I don't want to give her anything but joy. I know it sounds silly, but you always understood my thoughts when no one else could make any sense of them. I miss that. So many of our family members and friends have been reaching out with kindness, love, and encouragement the past months... they're so wonderful and I feel like I must be so ungrateful sometimes because despite everyone's best efforts, there's still that heartbreaking ache in my life without you. It's always there. I just want my Mom back. I still try to call you. I've still even gone to message you one time when Dad was signed into your account to change your cover photo for you. It didn't even occur to me that it wasn't you... as if my mind hadn't processed the full extent of loss yet, or that my heart's acknowledgment reverted back to temporary subconscious denial somehow. I know it's comforting for him to see your memories. He needs that. But it still hasn't sunk in... the past tense of it all. The realization that all of the memories that I have of you are all of the ones I will ever have. I wish we made more. I went to change my ringtone today... to a calmer one... and as I was going down the list, the tracks automatically start playing a preview of the clip... Jordan Smith's version of "Chandelier" from The Voice started chiming out and I absolutely broke down remembering the time we listened to that song on repeat for probably about three days or so, driving Dad a little bit crazy... but it was our thing.
I’m gonna swing from the chandelier
From the chandelier
I’m gonna live like tomorrow doesn’t exist
Like it doesn’t exist
I’m gonna fly like a bird through the night
Feel my tears as they dry
I’m gonna swing from the chandelier
From the chandelier
But I’m holding on for dear life
Won’t look down, won’t open my eyes
Keep my glass full until morning light
‘Cause I’m just holding on for tonight
Help me, I’m holding on for dear life
Won’t look down, won’t open my eyes
Keep my glass full until morning light
‘Cause I’m just holding on for tonight, on for tonight
We joked about how silly it would look to have people swinging from chandeliers and added it to our bucket lists... to swing from chandeliers while singing "Chandelier"... so I turned it into a ringtone for you, but it was eventually replaced by "The Goldbergs" theme song... our show. The girls walked into the room as I sat there next to the pile of clean laundry I meant to fold, sobbing over the song playing... they knew I was crying because I miss you... they miss you too... so much. "It's okay, Mom... we know you miss her. We miss Nonnie too." I know that you felt bad about the past year... not feeling well enough to do as much as you wanted to with them, or take them to as many places as you'd have liked... I know you worried about the way they'd remember their time with you... but you shouldn't have. Those girls adore you and remember so many wonderful thoughts, jokes, snuggles, and lessons you shared with them. We really were so blessed to have you in our lives... I just ache for the impossibility of more time with you on this side of forever. I miss you, Mom. We all do. Love always, "Pookie"
21 November 2020: It’s the big day.
Dear Mom, I broke down last night when Trissy surprised me with a few special gifts you had been working on together specifically for the night before our wedding... including another Montgomery Moose... like the one you sent with me to school in first grade because you couldn't be there and I was nervous... like the very same one we tucked into your casket with you less than two months ago so you wouldn't be scared about being alone. For as wonderful as today is... and for as happy as I am... it also still hurts. I'll tell you more about everything later... 4 o'clock waits for no one. I bet you'll be beautiful, too. I can't wait. I miss you, Mom. We all do. So much. Love always, "Pookie"
16 November 2020: I was alone.
Dear Mom,
Today is the first day I find myself actually alone since you’ve been gone.
I thought I’d be handling it better.
That seems to be the case a lot lately, actually… the thinking I’d handle something better than I actually do.
I heard an ice cream truck drive by and remembered the days at Grammy’s house on Hayes Street when we’d play “My Car, Your Car” and see the ice cream truck moseying along.
Sometimes we’d have leftover pocket change from the corner store for a treat… or Grammy would slip us each a few coins to go pick something out if we’d been well behaved.
I’d usually choose the red, white, and blue popsicle… or the flavor-of-the-week ice cream shaped like a random popular cartoon character.
I told myself that if I heard the ice cream truck go by again today, I’d go outside and choose something–even if it seemed weird that I didn’t have any children with me.
But I didn’t anticipate reaction time for the current situation of how long it takes me to waddle around with a baby bump… and before I could get to the door, the familiar song had already faded off down the street.
Yeah, I teared up. Over ice cream I wasn’t even hungry for… or perhaps it was over a few memories I couldn’t get back.
I went to call you today… so many times… to update you about Aria’s first day back to school since before the pandemic… to talk about the weekend… to see how you’re doing and if you and Dad still get to sit up on the deck and watch the birds at the feeders with Ranger leaping around energetically, scaring them away… and when I couldn’t, I cried for that too.
I thought I’d be doing better today, but it seems like I keep getting choked up over the little things all connecting back to this massive crevice in my heart without you here.
So far it’s been a missed ice cream truck, a knitted baby blanket in the wrong shape… again, a gas tank, a plastic cup in the driveway, incomplete calls, and so many thoughts cascading through my mind without anywhere to land.
I’ve never missed anyone so much, Mom.
Love always,
“Pookie”
Kaleidoscopic Grace 