Missing my mother... one year later.

January 17, 2013.   Today is the one year anniversary of my mother's death.

If you missed earlier posts about my wonderful, warm-hearted, fiesty, always sassy/sometimes brassy, totally endearing, blingtastic, fiercely-loving mom, please look HERE, HERE and HERE for some of my favorite "[Amazing] Grace" stories.

Someone recently said simply, "Grace was quite a gal."  Yeah... she was.  She really was.

It's hard for me to believe she's been gone a year now.  A whole year without her?  How can that be?

We were very blessed and fortunate that she had 88 wonderful, healthy years.  That was a gift that I am thankful for every day. She was living independently in her own apartment, active, driving, visiting with friends, and enjoying her life until she got sick in mid-November, 2011.  She died 2 months later, on January 17, 2012 -- in my home, with Hospice support and family caregiving.

I think of her every day, and although I am grateful for all the years and memories we had together, I miss her every day -- so very much.  And I know I always will.

I thought about her when my daughter graduated summa cum laude with her Master's Degree in Social Work.  Mom would have LOVED to have shared in that.  She was always so proud of each of her 6 grandchildren and 3 great-grand-children.   None of them ever had a greater fan.

I thought about her when my sister and my daughter and I traveled recently to Maryland to visit our other sister.  My mom would have LOVED that. She'd have probably gone along, too, the Queen Bee Riding Shotgun.

I thought about her when my husband and I recently spent two weeks in Cancun;  I made a Photo Journal of that vacation and since my mother ADORED photos, she would have LOVED that!

I thought about her when my sisters, our husbands and I recently made plans for an upcoming Arizona vacation together.  Mom probably wouldn't have gone along on that trip (in her later years she really shied away from flying) but she would have been thrilled that "her girls" were vacationing together, and she would have expected (and received!) daily updates (phone calls AND emails), and of course a copy of every photo any of us took.

I think about her every time I have spaghetti with really chunky meat sauce; it was her all-time favorite food EVER.  In fact, sometimes I make spaghetti (with really chunky meat sauce) -- just because.

I miss her when something good happens because she would have rejoiced with me in that wonderfully unselfish way that only mothers can.

I miss her when something is troubling me, because she always patiently listened to me, and genuinely shared any sadness I felt.

I miss her when I have a question about my dad, or my grandparents, or about how things were in our family before I was old enough to remember... those kind of questions now will always remain unanswered.

I miss her when something silly happens, or I read or hear an especially funny joke.  She loved to laugh.  We had the same quirky sense of humor, and she and I would frequently *CRAAAACK UP* over things that other people barely found funny.

I miss her whenever I see bright, glitzy, over-the-top scarves and jewelry. She LOVED that, and she had a totally inimitable style -- colorful and unique (and always sparkly!)  I think of her hundreds of times every day.

Life changed a year ago when she died, and it's sad and sobering to know that it will never be the same.   But yet, in many ways, she still lives on, in me and my sisters... and in our children.  Those thoughts, along with the many memories, photos and letters I have and cherish are what help me to live without her. 

I love you and I miss you, Mom.   So very, very much. 
And I always will.

The Memory Jar

It was an idea I'd had for a while... gathering some of my own "memories" and those from family members to put into a jar for my wonderful 87-year old mother. Reminiscing is always fun, and I thought this would be something that she would especially enjoy.

I sent out e-mails to my sisters and our kids, letting them know what I had planned, and asking them to please take a little time to think about special memories involving Mom ("Grandma" to the grandkids), jot them down and send them to me.

Once they all rolled in (and I had a few good belly laughs reading some of them!) I printed them out on different colors of paper, cut them apart, folded them and placed them inside a Mason jar. The project was a joy for me, and especially so as the memories started stacking up (I ended up with almost 150!) Each one was a heartfelt and unique testimony of family love, and I knew that within those memories, lay a very special gift for my mother.

I decorated the lid of the jar with pretty fabric, ribbon and beads... and presented it to my Mom yesterday. She received it (as she always receives gifts) -- with genuine delight and appreciation. We talked a little about what was in the jar, and she read one or two "memories" before I left... but honestly, I don't think she realized the significance yet of what was actually in the jar.

Well, a little later that evening I got a call from my mom, who tearfully told me how deeply she had been touched by the Memory Jar. She said she spent over an hour reading all the memories in the jar, and that it was one of the best hours of her life. She said she laughed... and she cried... and she remembered. Oh, how she remembered! She said it was a gift that she would forever cherish.

So thank you, my family, for helping to make this Memory Jar possible. But most of all, thank you, Mom, for being the wonderful, loving mother (and grandmother) that you have always, always been.















I love you, Mom, and I'm so glad you enjoyed your Memory jar. But believe me, the pleasure was all mine.