Friday, December 10, 2010

#16 The Beatles on iTunes!

So, as you may or may not know, I currently work at an Apple Store. I love it, and recently, The Beatles were released on iTunes! When I went into work the next day, I was greeted by life-size cut outs of John, Paul, George, and Ringo (of which I prompty took several pictures with, of course).

I already have all of the Beatles music (as Mom did, and would have if she were around to share in my excitement), but I'm still enjoying geeking out every day at work when I see our Beatles branded gift cards and listening to Beatles music streaming constantly throughout the store. Even our name tags are Beatles themed!


Wednesday, December 8, 2010

#15 "84 Charing Cross Road"

A few months ago (I know, I'm really behind on some entries), I drew myself a hot bubble bath, set my computer up on the sink across from my giant tub, soaked, and watched 84 Charing Cross Road.

I had never seen it before, but throughout the whole movie, I couldn't help but think how much of a Mom Movie it was. I'm sure she saw it. It's too perfect. A writer. A book-lover. A cross-continental pen pal relationship.

I loved it.

Thursday, October 28, 2010


Tomorrow is my 24th birthday. It will be my 8th birthday without my mom.

From time to time, people ask me if it still hurts.


Of course.

Time "helps," but I miss her and think about her every single day. Some days are worse than others. I have broken down and cried at gas stations, inside the box office of the movie theater where I used to work, in the car, in the shower, in the empty lot that used to be the house where I grew up, at the cemetery, in my grandmother's arms, at an Eagles concert, in my room, on airplanes.

Today I completely lost it inside a tanning bed. That was a new one..

Sometimes it's songs that trigger it (I still have not listened to "Whiter Shade of Pale" in its entirety since her funeral, and once had to leave a grocery store in the middle of shopping when it came on to avoid making a scene). Sometimes I see women who look JUST like her. Other times I just get caught up in the fact that I am a completely different person now than I was when I was 16 years old. I wonder if she'd even like the person I've become, and how it might be different if she had been there to be more of an influence (either good or bad).

Thank you, Mom, for bringing me into this world. I love you and miss you every single day.

Friday, May 7, 2010

What If...

Today, my mom would have turned 58 years old. I wonder if, right this minute, instead of writing this, I could be driving to Denison to meet her for dinner and to spend a weekend at home. I wonder if we would have a strawberry cake from Kathleen’s Kitchen. I wonder what things we would talk about at dinner—probably things that had happened in the last week, year, all fictional history of the past 7 years… Maybe we would reminisce that it has already been almost a year since my graduation, and we would laugh about things that, in this reality, did not actually happen. I wonder what I would have gotten her for her birthday, and for Mother’s Day, a mere two days later. We would have gone to church on Sunday for Mother’s Day (a tradition I still carry, only now alone), except I would wear a red flower on my chest instead of a white one.

This weekend I will have a Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper from Sonic in your honor. I will listen to songs on repeat until I drive those around me insane. I will play Backgammon. I will dance and sing without inhibition. I will roll the windows down in the car that you bought me, and I will drive without destination...Into the Mystic.

Happy Birthday Mom!

Thursday, May 6, 2010

#14 Michael Buble

It’s no secret that my mom loved music. Once she fell in love with a song, she would play it on repeat for DAYS. My sister and I still can’t listen to “Truly, Madly, Deeply” by Savage Garden without having vivid flashbacks of wanting to rip out our eardrums.

Sister and I joke about it now, saying that we’ve “pulled a Mom” if we find a song that we just cannot get enough of. This happened to me recently, and more excessively than it ever has before. Of course there have been other contenders to rival my current song obsession, but none other comes close to Michael Buble’s “Everything.”

According to iTunes, I have played this song almost 1500 times since February. That’s an average of 17 times A DAY. Granted, a significant portion of this statistic is from when I would put it on repeat on my iPod at work, and it eventually just became background noise, but I doubt that makes it acceptable.

I think Mom would’ve loved the way Michael Buble croons with his irresistible lounge-singer voice.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

False Alarm.

So it's not Facebook official. But I'm not going to rewrite the previous post because it flows too nicely, and I think I make a valid point.

Here's to me not being such an emotionless robot:

I think it's a common understanding among most young people today that something isn't really official until it's Facebook official. Whether it be a change in relationship status, a new job, acceptance to the college of your choice, or whatever the case may be—it’s only real once Facebook knows. As backwards as that may be, I know it has something to do with our growing fascination with posting and publishing even the most inane things in our lives. I’ve fallen subject to it, too, so I get it.

But I’ve been keeping this super secret blog for months, so why go public now?


Last week, my mother hugged me.

The last time I felt my mother’s touch was June 16, 2003, just a few weeks before she died. And last week, it happened again, after praying and wishing more than anything for six and a half years for just for one more encapsulating hug from her. One of those hugs that only a mother can give. A giant bear hug that makes the entire rest of the world fall to pieces. A hug that shows you how truly loved you are. My mom gave THE BEST hugs. And I finally felt that feeling again.

It was the most amazing, inspiring, uplifting, magnificent, vivid and REAL dream I have ever had.

Let me start by saying that last week was rough. On top of silly personal and some not-so-big-deal work things, I had two car mishaps in one day and had to spend 3 hours waiting at NTB the night of The Dream. I got back to my apartment around 8:00, immediately downed some Nyquil (I was sick, too, on top of it all), and promptly went to bed.

I fell asleep quickly, and did not stir until I awoke the next morning.

I have dreamed about my mother frequently. I have felt her with me when I’m particularly sad. I have recalled her voice. But never like this… I’ve dreamed of situations with her that did happen, of situations that never happened, of situations that will never happen… The only way I can describe this particular dream would be if God gave us one more day together. It was understood that she was dead and that fact would not change once our day was over. We had the day. It was not discussed. It was just known. (Read “One Day More” by Mitch Albom if you haven’t, by the way)

We spent the day in Denison. Not at our house, just kind of…in Denison, somehow. She wanted to go to Watson’s for lunch, so we did, though we didn’t eat. She wanted to go to the cemetery to see Ben, but I told her it was too hard for me and that I couldn’t do it. So we didn’t. She didn’t tell me that everything would be okay. She didn’t tell me what Heaven was like. She didn’t tell me that she was happy now or not in pain anymore. She just told me she loved me. In her own voice. The voice I remember hearing so clearly every day for the first 16 years of my life.

I remember staring at her face, a face that I have not seen SO VIVIDLY since that horrible day in June 2003. Every tiny little detail was there. It was her. It was so real. It was real.

Then she laughed her perfect laugh.

And held me.

I was finally encased in her love again.

And it was perfect.

The next day, I woke up in the most amazing and perfect mood, which lasted throughout the entire day.

Thank you Mom (and God). I needed that more than I could ever describe.

So that’s why I’m taking this public. As trite as it sounds, I feel like maybe she wants me to do this. I’m finally at a point where I want to share my story (baby steps), and I want to hear yours, too. So many people close to me have lost loved ones, and I would love to offer this soapbox of sorts.

Coming soon: a post from my sister!