Not Like This

Hi Mom,

Six months ago this morning was the last time I spoke to you.

Six. Months.

It feels like both a lifetime ago, and only a moment ago.

In these six months, not a day has passed that I haven’t thought of you.

Some moments are silly; every time an aging celebrity meets their end, I think of how upset you would be that you died first. I can hear your voice, high-pitched with irritation, saying, “You mean I died before Andy Griffith?! AND Larry Hagman?! Are you kidding me?!”

Other moments are harder to move through. Last month, during a concert by Joel, Heidi, and Abby, the tears fell freely as Heidi & Joel sang “Pie Jesu” from Requiem, a favorite of yours. I had to FIGHT HARD to keep from outright ugly sobbing in the middle of the church.

I have a similar problem every time I see a preview for Les Miserables. You were SO EXCITED to see that movie, sending me any spoiler you could find while it was in production. So again, I’m excited to see it, but so disappointed that I can’t discuss it with you afterwards.

Good days and bad days. And this pregnancy has allowed me to blame a lot of my bad moments on hormones.

But I’m quickly running out of time to use that excuse. In less than a week, we’re going to do something that I NEVER dreamed I’d be doing without you; we’re going to welcome another beautiful baby boy into the world.

And while the majority of my soul is thrilled and excited for this new life to arrive, I’d be lying through my teeth if I didn’t admit that a sizable part of me is crushed that we won’t be able to share this occasion with you.

The image of you holding Justin, just as you did Aiden & Nolan, is not going to become reality. And that HURTS.

But it’s also a reality I’m going to have to accept. It’s been made a bit easier by our decision to gift Justin with your maiden name as his middle name. So you'll always be a part of him.

We put out our Christmas decorations last week, and I found the toy Santa & snowman you got Aiden & Nolan for The Feast of St. Nicklaus last December. Reminding Aiden that they were a gift from you seems to have a triggered some sadness, though; he’s mentioned several times in the past week how much he misses PooPoo.

So do I. So do we all.

When putting up our tree, I hung up all my favorite ornaments first (and near the top, to thwart Nolan's search-and-destroy mission). I took a moment to smile at “Our First Christmas” from the year Mike & I were married, and the “Baby’s First Christmas” for both of the boys.

I decided at that moment, though, that we were missing an ornament, and so I ordered this for you:

So again, you’re constantly in our hearts and thoughts.

But it’s not how it should be.

Missing you always, Mom.