Category Archives: Mom

My Anniversary

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A year ago I started my blog with a story about my Mother.  Rather than post my stats and my “accomplishments” of the year, I have chosen this verse from Proverbs because it reminds me so very much of her.

You are dearly missed ~M

Mom (revisited)

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Earlier in the week another WordPress Blogger told me this was her favorite post in the A to Z Challenge in April 2014.  The timing was perfect for me to repost it for Mother’s Day.

I hope everyone had a great day. ~ Monique

Dear Mom:

I wonder sometimes how you did it. How did you sit back and watch me make all my mistakes in life never once judging me? As you probably know the boys are testing my limits. Yes, your precious grandsons. But with you as my mentor I know I will get through this.

I miss you now more than ever. I’m tired of being tired. My get up and go has got up and gone. Test after test. Colonoscopy first, that was a buttload of fun. Ultrasound, HIDA scan, endoscopy .. I just can’t wait to have a radioactive chemical injected into my veins. Regardless of what this may be I have no fear because I know one day I will see you again.

And by the way you were right, Ray was a keeper. And he has kept his promise to you.

I love you Mom,
Monique

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My darling daughter:

I was able to watch you make your mistakes with a chuckle because I knew my precious grandsons would give you twice as much grief. Be patient as there are no limits when it comes to being a mother.

I know you have not been feeling well. I am glad you do not fear death but don’t be so eager to come see me. You have alot to live for and people who need you. I will be here when your time comes and until then you are in my prayers.

I had a good feeling about Ray. I think that is why I was finally able to let go and begin my journey in heaven.

Love to all,
Mom

Peace Be With You

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A friend of mine lost his mother to cancer today, brought back all too many memories.

I miss you Mom.

Merry Christmas,

Monique

Frosted Apricot

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My Thanksgiving this year is not one I would call traditional.  We were planning a small dinner with the boys, late in the evening so they could spend time with their other folks earlier in the day.    But things didn’t come together as we had planned.   One of our older boys was going to Lousiana to see his grandparents with his mother.   Our youngest, who lives with us, was going to his Mom’s for a feast and Christmas tree decorating. And our other two boys were going to their Aunt Kathy’s house for the traditional Hispanic Thanksgiving consisting of turkey and tamales along with all the trimmings.  My husband and I saw this as “our opportunity”.  No cooking. No cleaning.  Just a quick lunch at the local cafeteria.  Heavenly.
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The morning was amazing.   While the hubby is on a time clock, you know the one, early to rise early to bed, I am not.  My sleep is sporadic to say the least and the first opportunity I had to sleep in I took it.   After a quick shower I decided to skip the make up and just put on a little lip stick. That’s when my day changed.
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About 11:30 I got a text from one of the boys asking what time dinner was.  The “Oh Shit!” factor kicked in immediately. Did I forget to tell one of them I wasn’t cooking?  I had to confess that I had a communication problem and apologize to him. That was followed by a “NM Happy Thanksgiving anyway”   He was fine.  I think.  C’mon! He had turkey and tamales waiting.
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As the lipstick was gliding on my bottom lip I realized that I grabbed the wrong tube from my make up bag.  Not that “Frosted Apricot” wasn’t my color, it just looked better on my mother.  This was the tube of lipstick I found in  her purse when she passed away.  I never use it.  I just always have it with me. The scent brought back memories of her hugging me and kissing me on the cheek.  God, what I would give to have one of those hugs again.
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Later that day, after our delightful cafeteria meal, it was time for an afternoon nap.  Something we both had time to do since there was no cooking and cleaning. (Big, big smiles here) I cuddled up on the couch with a little black blanket that was left in my car after a trip to San Antonio with a very dear friend.   We used to meet every year in October for the Women of Faith conference .   I have not been able to connect with her.  My emails are not rejected just unanswered.  Her phone still rings but has no voice mail.  I’ve often thought of driving to her home town to hunt her down, but why?  She knows how to reach me.   I miss her,  but I am sure she is fine.  People change.  Relationships change.  Sadly, I skipped Women of Faith this year, but I will be back next year. And every year after that.
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By not having the typical hustle and bustle this Thanksgiving, I was able to take some time to reflect and think about those who are no longer with me.  People who I have loved and lost.  The very same people who have played a part in molding me  into the person I am today.   People who have touched my life in a way no one else has been able to.  I was able to take the time to be thankful for not only those I cherish today but also for those I cherished yesterday.
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The oldest boy called me late evening on Thanksgiving day.  He called to say “Thanks Mom”.   This was the first Thanksgiving in years that he didn’t get any of my peach cobbler.  Sigh.
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I didn’t really think too much about my Dad on Thanksgiving.  It’s not like I have a tube of his lipstick.  Or one of his old blankets.  Next year maybe I’ll pop open a can of Lone Star beer and be thankful for the alcoholism that runs in my family.
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Ah yes, next year.  When I cook. No matter what. Even if its only peach cobbler.

Time Alone

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It seems I’m at a loss for words
But I have so much to say
The days aren’t tough or easy
Not black or white but gray

You used to make me smile
Laughing about little things
But that was long before
You went and got your wings

Even though I cannot see you
I know that you’re around
I can feel you looking down on me
Though I cannot hear a sound

It’s only been two years Mom
But I so miss having you
To always see right through me
When I’m happy sad and blue

My life is a bit chaotic
Never knowing what to do
Tossing turning crying
I know you’ll see me through

I’m glad you are in heaven
What a wonderful place to be
I cannot wait to join you
Then I too will be set free

Until then know I love you
And I miss you everyday
I was once your little angel
Now my angel fly away

The Journey Home

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“I have had this horrible chest congestion I can’t get rid of.  It seems to have gone to my ear now.  I’m gonna go back to the doctor today”, Mom said.

“Well I have taken the day off work to run errands so why don’t we do lunch and I can take you to your appointment ?”, I replied.

“OK, that’d be good”, she wimpered.

I knew when she called me in the middle of the week that something was wrong.   Mom was never sick and she rarely asked for help.  And even though she didnt ask for help this time, it was her eager acceptance of my offer that had me concerned.  I drove two hours to her cozy little home at the lake.   She didn’t look well but it seemed to be more from stress than illness.

That was the beginning of her long journey home.  Scans would later show that her chest congestion was stage four lung cancer.  Chemotherapy started that very same day and continued weekly thereafter. Her life, our life, would never be same after that.   During her treatment we had the time to talk about those things you never want to talk about. But the conversations were quite pleasant as Mom had no fear of dying.   The cancer later moved to her brain and it was at that time I could tell her will to live was not for herself but for her children.  We all gathered around her and assured her it was okay to rest.  With a sigh of relief she did just that and joined Our Heavenly Father ten days later.

Mom was diagnosed in 2009 and passed away in 2011.   Following her death I found a journal she had started about six months before her diagnosis.   She knew something was wrong but didn’t want to worry the kids.    Her struggle was unbearable at times.   I wonder what would have happened has she worried us earlier.  After all of this,  to this day none of my brothers have stopped smoking.  But even though Dad died from cirrhosis of the liver I continue to drink, so who am I to judge?

This post was inspired by this weeks writing challenge from the Daily Post:  DIALOGUE

 

Always a Baby

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ten little fingers
ten little toes
a perfect little button nose

the years went by
his nose, well it grew
his ten little toes were each in a shoe

and then one day
he drove to a site
but the day would not go right

his ten little fingers
were almost made nine
but still it didn’t make him whine

he puffed out his chest
and he came down the ladder
just after he saw all of the blood splatter

today was the surgery
they sewed him together
Oly whispered “My Dad is all better”

so each morning when you wake up
be happy with what you see
for who knows how tomorrow will be

For Mom

 

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Dear Mom:

I know it hasn’t even been two years since your journey to Our Father in heaven, but some days it seems like a lifetime ago that we sat together and talked and laughed and cried as Mothers and Daughters do.   I know we promised you that we would not drift apart from each other when you were gone, but being in Branson for our first family reunion without you is bittersweet.    We hope to get together every other year on your birthday so we can celebrate your life and fulfill our promise to you.   Maybe those of us who could not make it this year will make it in 2015.    We all did our part in the kitchen, although none of us attempted to make your potato salad or baked beans.   I don’t know, I just don’t  think any of us are ready for that yet.    I know you are happy.  I hope that you are looking down on us with a proud heart and a tender smile.   I need to keep this short, Mom.   I miss you so much.   The more I write, the more I long to hear your laughter and feel your hugs.

I love you,

Monique