Spectacular

Jen, Allison, and I. A chocolate torte, a strawberry tart, and an oreo cheesecake. Three coffees, outdoor seating, and live music. That, ladies and gentlemen, is a beautiful moment.

The Final First

Last month one of the women at my church who lost her husband 2 weeks before my mom died gave me a hug and said 'I'll be praying for you, I'm all done my firsts, you have one big one to go'. The final first is here. The first August 19th.

One year ago at 8:15am I buried my head on my mom's leg as the heart monitor went flat. I didn't pick my head back up until I knew the screen was turned off because I didn't want that flat line to be what I remembered. Instead I remember knowing that she was gone - it's amazing actually how you know - her face looked different, the room seemed different, I felt different. I remember seeing my Aunt Dona cry for the first time because she had promised my mom to be strong and make the right decisions and now they had all been made. I remember my mom's best friend's face when she walked in the room 2 minutes later. I remember laying on the floor because I still didn't want to leave her even though she wasn't there. I remember kissing her cheek and then standing in the hall with Brandy so my dad could be alone. I remember driving home with my dad so he didn't have to be alone. I remember hearing my dad say for the first time on the phone 'Sue died today'. I remember picking out the clothes for her to wear at the viewing. There are so many things I remember, and I'm glad a flat line is not one of them.

And so, this morning I woke up at 5:30, made myself some of my mom's tea. It was scripture tea and on the tag it had Isaiah 40:31, which just happens to be one of the verses I read at my mom's service. I took the teacup she gave me, my bible, some tissues, my iPod, and a chair and went to the beach. I sat at the spot that we scattered her ashes in the ocean and watched the sunrise. I listened to music, I danced in the waves, I cried and I read Isaiah 40. And then I went home to start my day, because if I have learned nothing in this past year I have learned that life does in fact go on. It's both a comfort and a stab in the heart. Life goes on and you have to learn how to go on with it. So at 8:15 I was getting ready for a 9:00 meeting with my dissertation advisor. Instead of calling her I was putting on the bracelet that has some of her ashes in it. Instead of hearing her laugh, I called my sister and we both laughed as she said 'well, one year down'. Instead of moping around and feeling sorry for myself, I woke up early, watched the sunrise and then filled my day. My mom would have expected nothing less.

Northward Bound

So, my attempt to post 'moments' on the blog is not going well, I keep forgetting to take a picture of them :) Today I remembered! In 10 days Allison, Jen, Angela and I will be headed to Maine for a glorious 5 days out of the Charleston heat and humidity. Tonight we set up shop on the Barnes and Noble floor to look at maps and guidebooks, decide where we may want to go, laugh about how ridiculous and unrealistic our plans are, determine just how many rich unknown people we need to meet along the way to take us on boats and planes, and then go to Senor Tequila's to finish it off with some chips and salsa. Spectacular moment to say the least.

Voices from Afar

On Father's Day my family had a picnic. I was flying to Panama so I obviously was not in Pennsylvania at the picnic, but my uncle Mike took some video and posted it on his facebook page. For the past few minutes I've sat here and listened to it. Not so much watched as listened. Listening to people talking and people laughing. To be honest, when I think about family picnics the first thing that I actually think about is people's voices. Usually so many people are talking at once that you can't figure out what conversation is going on where...that is unless you were actually born in this family and then it's really obvious because you've been doing this all your life. And there are so many people running in and out of each conversation that you lose track of who said what. And so I sat there and listened. I listened to the voices that I miss so much, and the laughs that make me laugh just to hear them.

There was one voice and one laugh that I didn't hear. It's not that I expected to hear it as if as I was watching the video I thought suddenly my mom would be there. But the sound of the picnic just didn't seem right without it. But then why would it?

I never noticed how much you miss a person's voice until I wanted so desperately to hear my mom. I wanted to hear her say anything. We watched videos just waiting for there to be a place she talked. We called her old cell phone waiting for it to go to voicemail so we could hear her say her name. We have an old answering machine message that I have copied onto my phone and sometimes I just listen to it pretending it's not one of the only links to that voice I have. It doesn't really matter what she is saying, just hearing her voice is enough.

It's interesting I think how so often we go through life not noticing our senses other than sight. Sitting here and listening to the picnic with my eyes closed, listening to these voices I know so well, laughs I could pick out of a crowd, reminds me that not every moment is based on what you see...sometimes it's based on what you hear.

Moments

Having done this a few times I recognized the importance of moments while in Panama this year. When you are that hot, tired, uncomfortable, hungry, moody, out of your comfort zone...you get the picture...you need to take moments and appreciate the beauty that they offer in and of themselves, ignoring everything else surrounding that moment.

Through the process of grief I realized that it's actually extremely helpful if you treat life the same way. There are in fact good days. And there are good weeks. And there are even good years. But most of the time there are good moments. And what I've found is that I need to appreciate them for what they are rather than trying to make them extend into a day or a week or a year. And so I've decided to have a new category on my blog for these moments. Many of those moments are not on a camera, but some of them are...and this is one of them...