“Lasts” Emotions

Everyone will let you know about how hard all the “firsts” will be when you lose someone. First birthday, first holidays, first family vacation, etc. Lately I have been thinking of the last things we did together. Matthew asked me a couple weeks ago if I could remember the last conversation we had. A real conversation. I thought for awhile and started crying. I can’t remember. That’s one of those things the tumor took from her. Matthew reminded me that at least I didn’t have a bad conversation that will be forever burned in my brain. True. It was always so heartbreaking when she couldn’t talk because if you knew mom, you knew she loved to talk!
I do remember one of our last FaceTime conversations. She was having trouble at this time, but getting on certain meds still helped her. It had been a while since we really talked. It was exciting and I remember the two of us smiling the entire time because we finally had a real conversation. I was sitting on the kitchen floor with my iPad and she was in Austin. She was still stuttering, but we got to talk and we both loved it.
I remember the last text message I got from her. I still have it. And I knew it was from her because it was a little confusing! But it was her and not a helper that wrote “I love you!”
I remember the last time we went to the movies. This was when she really started getting weak and I knew something just wasn’t quite right. We loaded her up in the wheel chair, plopped the kids on her lap, and rolled into the theater while she and Isabella wore Isabella’s sunglasses. She insisted that Mammie wear HER glasses. We saw Escape from Planet Earth. When we went back to the car, she had melted milk duds stuck to her pants. We had a good laugh about that! I went to the movies this week and when I got home, I noticed I had melted milk duds on my pants. It brought back that fond memory.
I remember the last place we went Christmas shopping last year. We went to Pier One to get Rebecca (John’s girlfriend) a gift. She insisted on buying me a funky, glittery Christmas tree that I kept eyeing and the kids some jingle bells. There is quite a funny story that goes with that afternoon that she would not be happy with me sharing!
I remember our last laugh together. In the tower of MD Anderson.
And recently I just updated my photo albums and put in the last picture of my mom that will ever be in my albums. And it broke my heart.
It’s hard to get rid of the last things she bought the kids. I cling to the stuffed animals they love so much just as much as they do that are from mom.
These “lasts” are just a few of my thoughts that I think about daily. They are forever with me and will always give me fond memories of her and our time together.

20131212-180731.jpg

20131212-180826.jpg

20131212-181210.jpg

20131212-181347.jpg

20131212-181413.jpg

About Sherry

I'm not sure about me yet. I lost my mom, my best friend, my confidant to brain cancer. I see the good it has brought in others, I'm just not sure yet how it has changed me for the better. Her kindness and finding joy in sadness has been passed to us, but this is a pain I have never felt. I know she would not want us sitting around crying, she would want us enjoying each other and laughing and continue to grow closer. She loved when we all got together and just laughed and that's what we have been doing. But honestly, I'm really scared of life without her. I relied on her for everything. Most of my time was spent with her, so I'm just not sure about me. I just take it day by day and try to find the beauty of gray.
This entry was posted in The Beauty of Gray and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s