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Dec. 6th, 2010 10:21 pmTwo years today.
Two years since I slept beside my Mom's hospital bed while she slipped away from me. Two years since the course of my life changed so much that the old me wouldn't even recognize the person I am now.
Today, I woke up in the bed my Mom refinished when she was in high school, inside the house I own. I drove to work with the man I love sitting next to me. I worked a long day at Apple. I came home and took a bubble bath in my purple bathroom. I watched "Waitress," and I thought of her.
Joe and I got a Christmas tree on Sunday. We're going to decorate it tomorrow after work. Every day is another first with him - first Thanksgiving, first Christmas, it's all new. Almost eight months in and it's the best of both worlds - we're completely comfortable around each other but I still marvel over what we have a hundred times a day.
It makes my heart ache that my Mom will never meet him and that he will never meet her. They would have gotten along, I think. They have the same no bullshit attitude, the same confidence. I can imagine us all in the kitchen cooking something fantastic in my beautiful house. It can't ever happen, of course, but I can still dream.
This time of year is hard, not that I miss her less any other time. May is her birthday and Mother's Day in quick succession. August is my birthday. Every month has memories, but Halloween through Christmas had the most. Tomorrow I will unpack our Christmas ornaments for the first time without her. I will hang them on a tree in Texas with a boy from Minnesota.
And I will miss her.
Two years since I slept beside my Mom's hospital bed while she slipped away from me. Two years since the course of my life changed so much that the old me wouldn't even recognize the person I am now.
Today, I woke up in the bed my Mom refinished when she was in high school, inside the house I own. I drove to work with the man I love sitting next to me. I worked a long day at Apple. I came home and took a bubble bath in my purple bathroom. I watched "Waitress," and I thought of her.
Joe and I got a Christmas tree on Sunday. We're going to decorate it tomorrow after work. Every day is another first with him - first Thanksgiving, first Christmas, it's all new. Almost eight months in and it's the best of both worlds - we're completely comfortable around each other but I still marvel over what we have a hundred times a day.
It makes my heart ache that my Mom will never meet him and that he will never meet her. They would have gotten along, I think. They have the same no bullshit attitude, the same confidence. I can imagine us all in the kitchen cooking something fantastic in my beautiful house. It can't ever happen, of course, but I can still dream.
This time of year is hard, not that I miss her less any other time. May is her birthday and Mother's Day in quick succession. August is my birthday. Every month has memories, but Halloween through Christmas had the most. Tomorrow I will unpack our Christmas ornaments for the first time without her. I will hang them on a tree in Texas with a boy from Minnesota.
And I will miss her.
