My Mom

My mother died this past Tuesday. I flew to California on Wednesday and came home on Thursday. The complexities of what my mother did in terms of her will and trust are things I will never write about and would prefer to simply forget.

These have been among the hardest days of my life so far, and the only thing that has saved me from completely falling apart is that my husband has continually reminded me through his words and actions that he loves me, far more than I've probably ever realized he did. And my children have shown how much they love and care about me and even though they're just little guys, they are most worried about their mommy and that is their only concern. And my friends, both in California and here have shown how much they care about me. In California my friends surrounded me through their presence and phone calls in such a way that I felt enveloped in a hug from them the entire time I was there.

Since I've been back here, friends and acquaintances, fellow merchants and people I don't believe I even know, have sent cards, stopped by to offer their condolences, sent flowers, given us dinner and come by to give me a hug. And I've only been home a little over twenty-four hours.

I miss my mom. She was supposed to be here right now. She was supposed to fly in on the same flight I came home on. I was not ready for this, I expected her to drive me crazy well into her nineties. I don't want to think about this weekend without her here and I don't want to think about the next few months without the possibility of seeing her at least every other month. I want to wake up and find this was a horrible dream, or that someone made a mistake and she isn't really dead.

I told Doug Tuesday night that I couldn't shake the feeling that I should call my mother. After all, something happened, whenever some happened, I called my mother. I can't imagine ever being able to shake that feeling.