A Slice of Life

6:45 a.m. I wearily open my eyes as Lily pads to the side of my bed. I’m so tired…Lily and Emmy both climbed into bed with me at different times last night, and I took them potty and put them back to bed. Staying up late the night before to write a blog post didn’t help my weariness, and I turned over, not wanting to get up. Lily insisted.

She would have been 68 years old today.

7:30 a.m. Hair wet from my shower, I prepare breakfast for the girls. Shuffling bagel toasting, coffee drinking and lunch making, I manage not to think too much about today’s date.

Oh, how she would have loved to talk about Kindergarten with her oldest granddaughter, and about preschool with her youngest granddaughter! They were the light of her life.

9:30 a.m. Girls both at the correct schools and in the correct classrooms, I’m working this morning. My new job as a part-time preschool teacher keeps me occupied. I’m helping a little one put on a princess dress; roaring my stegosaurus at the T-Rex that is trying to devour it; helping to build a house out of blocks. I pour juice and sweep up homemade play dough. The morning passes by.

Emmy was only two when she died; Lily had just turned 5. If only she could see how they’ve grown!

12:30 p.m. I make fish sticks for Emmy, and think about Lily at full-day Kindergarten. I hope I packed enough food for Lily’s lunch today. She should have found my little love note in her lunch bag by now.

Last night, I brought out the letters she wrote to me when I was in college. Her handwriting, so familiar, brought her to life again for a little while.

1:30 p.m. Ed returns my call while my hands are covered with flour from the pork chops I’m going to stick in the crock pot. I’ll disinfect the phone later, I think, as I excitedly tell him that I received my first paycheck today, meager though it is. Emmy is demanding attention; she is exhausted from her morning at preschool, she misses Lily, and she just doesn’t know what to do with herself. I try to have her take a nap, but she wants nothing to do with sleeping.

She was such a good listener, such a good mother! What did she still have left to teach me?

7:00 p.m. The afternoon flew by, as laundry, dishes, and cooking dinner take up my minutes and my hours. As I rock Emmy, about to put her in her bed, I want to call her, to wish her a happy birthday. But there will be no answer.

My mom died from breast cancer on November 23, 2009. I miss her every day, and today, on her birthday, my heart just aches.

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11 Responses to A Slice of Life

  1. Aww Ginny, I'm sorry. What a difficult day. This birthday must have been especially hard being the first one without her. Your post made me cry and I wish there was something that I had learned to share with you to make these times easier. This line made my heart ache. "What did she still have left to teach me?" I like to believe that our Moms still have a way of imparting wisdom from heaven. I don't know how exactly but maybe a feeling or sudden realization that we didn't have before was their way of teaching us from afar. You are such a god mother yourself. I'm sure your mom is beaming in heaven watching over all of you.Hugs to you!

  2. Oh Ginny sending hugs your way! I have always felt that those that are gone do get to watch what we do. I am sure your Mom is watching her Granddaughters all the time, as I hope my Dad is watching his grand kids.Grief sucks doen't it?

  3. Wow. I am so sorry for your loss. I just cannot imagine losing my mom. She had cancer about 4 years ago, but thankfully, she is cancer-free now. I was terrified I would lose her–I guess it hadn't really ever occurred to me before that this could happen. Thanks for reminding me of how lucky I am. I think I may go call my mom now.

  4. That was beautiful. Unfortunately, I know exactly how you feel. My father died four years ago at 60 years old from cancer. My youngest child was five months old.It just….sucks.

  5. {{{Hug!}}} I feel your pain. My mom died March 2009, and I'm going through a lot of the same stuff. My youngest daughter was 2 months old when Mom died. I grieves me to know that she won't even remember her, but I have to do the best I can to teach her and show her so she can know who Mom was.

  6. I feel the same way sometimes. Especially when I think of how she would love to share certain things with my daughter… uh, there is a lump in my thinking about it. I'm sorry it's going to be such a rough day for you but she's still with you and always will be!

  7. Oh dear, that's hard. I know, I have similar thoughts about my mom too. Take care, I'm sure she'll be on your mind and in your heart today.

  8. Ginny, my tears are falling for you. The simple things you mentioned wanting to share with your mother are the very things I treasure most about my relationship with mine. Wishing you peace and comfort in your memories.

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