It still seems completely impossible, but one week ago today on June 5, 2012 around 6:15-6:20 a.m. I lost my mother. She passed away last week after an intense battle with Hepatosplenic T-Cell Lymphoma.
Despite her being sick since February, I was not ready for this. She got a cold. The doctors were supposed to just fix her so we could bring her home. There were still so many things left to do.
I need more lessons on how to use the sewing machine she bought me.
We need to go on at least 10 more mother/daughter trips for Mother’s Day.
I need to hear the stories of how Mom & Dad met at least one more time.
I need to (lovingly) call her the “Crazy Lady”
I need to tell her the story of the Beastie Boys and how she called the doctors very bad names multiple times (behind their backs, thankfully)
I need to ask her how to re-pot the plants I got after she died
I need to tell her I love her one more time
I need to hug her with everything I have and tell her just how much she means to me
I need to apologize for all the time I was mad at her for stupid things growing up
I need to thank her for always being there when some stupid boyfriend made me cry for two hours
I need to to tell her just how proud I was to call her my Mom
I need to hear her yell “Jennifer John” when I’m up to no good
I need to go “junkin” with her again
I need to thank her for always being my editor and helping me when that research paper or newspaper article wouldn’t write itself
I need to help her with her last request to just go home (we needed just one more day, Mom, you just didn’t give us enough time!)
Now all I’m left with is far too few memories and a very broken heart. Each day something reminds me of you. Today at the grocery store they gave me one of the Sizzler game tickets. It reminded me of how last year when that contest was running, you sent me a cute little note with all the tickets you had collected.
I went to get a drink this morning and there was the comic strip you sent me just two months ago about the flamingoes in our front yard.
I cleaned out my closet today and I was showered by the handmade scarfs you’ve made me over the past two years.
It’s so hard to comprehend that you were healthy and normal in January and now you are gone.
I hope you are with Daddy now and that you finally got that one last hug you always wanted from him. In the meantime, I’ll be anxiously awaiting mine.
I love you, Mom!
1945 – 2012