Category: Mom

Some Things 8/15

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1) Yesterday I’m chillin’ in my pool with K3. I’m floating in an egg plant all nice and comfy and then… a motherfucking SNAKE brushed up against my arm! YES! A SNAKE! It was a tiny baby snake. Thankfully, nonpoisonous. I killed that motherfucker with a machete. Not cool, nature, not cool. There was also a tick and a dead mole in the pool. What the fuck? It’s a square of concrete filled with salt water. It’s not a river! Leave my shit alone! I hate nature. IT TOUCHED ME. Ugh. Now I’m gonna be super paranoid about checking every inch of the pool before I get in.

2) Cross fit continues. This week has been a real emotional rollercoaster for me. I’m not 100% sure why, it’s not my monthly cycle or anything. I’ve been in crossfit for a month this week. I’ve done 6 regular classes plus the 4 onboarding classes. But for some reason, Wednesday got to me. After Wednesdays work out I just felt pathetic. I felt embarrassed and ashamed. I wanted to quit. It was runs and barbells and I can’t do the runs (I’m subbing with bike) and I couldn’t get the damn push jerks right to save my life. All while I’m using the training bar and 2.5lb weights and some of these other bitches are slinging like 200lbs! And here I can’t do ANY OF IT. I just felt like I was setting myself up to be humiliated.

I’m working out surrounded by the fittest of the fit, and here my fat ass is in their space. They’re the sharks and I’m in their ocean. I really just felt humiliated and in deep fear of being mocked. I’ve been bullied a lot in my life. I’ve had people make rude comments about my weight even as an adult (down over 100lbs, now though!). So I actually cried about it. And with my monthly subscription coming up this week — I’d have quit if it weren’t for K2 and K3. I have two people supporting me and willing to make sure I never have to work out by myself. I’m blessed to be able to afford this expensive ass gym. I can’t squander this opportunity.

Friday’s workout was better. K3 is super supportive and motivated. She also somehow enjoys working out so she has a great energy. So we finished 3 team rounds of the impossible. I did over 30 burpees! Plus 26lb hang cleans and rowing. Today we did more barbells (hang snatches) and pull ups (I sub ring rows) with K2. So I’m still totally failing at the bar LOL — I just can’t master the moves. I’m thinking so hard about all the little specifics that make up the move that I can’t do it. I’m in my head too much and can’t do the move fast enough to get it all timed right. But I looked up youtube videos beforehand to try and get it worked out. So I’m getting better.

Also one of the youtube videos broke down crossfit as a whole a little bit. They acknowledged how hard it is to be in there with all these athletes slinging mega weights. They discussed how it’s easier to go to a normal gym and feel less judged. But then he discussed how it’s better to learn form these people correctly slinging all that weight so they can teach you how to get there. And to take advantage of your coaches who want to help you get there too. So I asked lot of questions tonight. And I tried to mingle a little more. I even reminded my onboarding coach to put up my intro picture on the website so I can get to know people more. Here’s to another month starting this week! I’ve got my ripstop cream and I’m sitting here recovering with my compression socks on and a compression knee sleeve on my terrible knee and some turkey meatballs. Thanks to my chickas K2 and K3 who have no idea how much they mean to me right this second in my life. I’m so thankful.

3) We spread moms ashes. Part one. She wanted to be spread at the beach and in the mountains. Well, the first week of August is my families yearly vacation to Florida. We’ve got a time share and we’ve done it every year since I was a baby. (Except that now we alternate our vacations each year with my family vs Mr C’s family trip). Florida was moms thing. She loved it. It was her place. She could just sit on the beach all day with her toes in the waves. She slept with the balcony door cracked so she could listen to the waves. She had coffee on the balcony with the sunrise over the ocean.

Being down there without her was beyond difficult. But we did good and we spread her ashes at sunrise. We went to her (well, the whole family’s) favorite breakfast spot and crossed over the a public beach area. With the smell of her favorite apple fritters in the air and the colors of an ocean sunrise, we threw flowers in the water. I hope you loved it, momma. I miss you so so much. *wipes away tear*

Melancholy

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I left work early again today. I just feel so sad. Melancholy. Sorrowful. It’s not all mom. Of course part of it is mom. I miss her dearly. I have so much anxiety and worries running through my head and I need her calmness. I need her “It will work it all out.” I need her to calm me down and say she’ll pray about it.

Monday was a holiday. It was a lazy day. The kind of day where her an I would have lazily floated in the pool. I miss that so much. That time was perfect. Of course I never realized it was perfect but it was. It was a time with just us chatting and relaxing. Telling each other secrets and gossip. And I was providing for her. Be it a day or the weekend, I was providing for her. And I was giving her this private pool to enjoy as much as she wanted. And believe me, she did enjoy it. I’d find her out there on the stairs having coffee when I woke up. If she hadn’t already got on a bathing suit and moved into the tanning ledge or a float.

I miss you, momma. So so much. To say it hurts is superlative.

I do have things im looking forward to. That’s something that leaves me in a depression — when I don’t have things to look forward to. But this time I have a few things to look forward to — but they’re all tainted somehow. Or I fear they won’t come to pass at all.

I’m looking forward to plastic surgery. I might be pretty smokin’ with some tightened up arms and belly and bigger boobs. I’ll be an hourglass for sure — even if it is still an extra large one. The fact that my husband is letting me pay for this and take the time off to do it is amazing! But rather than being grateful, I worry. What if my recent weight gain takes that off the table? How will my recovery be? Will my husband be able to step up to help me enough? With pain meds, bringing me drinks and food, helping me get up and around, washing my hair for me, taking care of the cat. How can I take care of Jack right after ive been gutted? Momma always always took care of me in recoveries. Even since I’ve been married. She’d just come up here to stay. It’s hard for me to trust. I worry.

I’m looking forward to Florida. The family trip my side of the family always takes. However, this one is obvious. Florida is MOMS THING. It’s what she loved. Sitting on the beach all day with the waves of the gulf washing over her feet. Lazily dripping sand into elaborate spires next to her chair. Having coffee at 6am on the balcony listening to the crashing waves. This year we’ll all be going at least one last time all together. For mom. She wanted some of her ashes spread there. In the ocean. And she’d want us to go. She always wanted us to go. Even when I felt like I ruined it. I turn into such a bitch around my sisters. It’s the codependent family structure. I fall right back into it when I’m with them. Then we all bitch to mom and she screams that she cant take it anymore. And I feel like they’d have a better vacation without me there. So yeah, cloud over that one. But I have to go. For mom.

October. This one’s odd. So it’s the year to spend Thanksgiving with my family. However, Mr C’s parent’s are celebrating in October — so sweet, we can do both families, right? Well. Mr C’s parents, in a fashion so very typical of them, just assumed none of us “kids” were coming. So I was chatting with my mother-in-law the other day (remember, I was all sad about mom and no one would return my calls? You know none of my family has yet to return any of the calls, BTW). Yeah I was talking to her and she mentioned that they’d be stopping by our house on their great road trip right before heading up to the thanksgiving festivities. So I confirmed that we’d be leaving to follow them. This was news to her! She thought we weren’t coming! She was super excited that we were. She informed me that Thanksgiving dinner with the N’s was canceled and gave me the run down of the new plans.

So after talking with her, I called Mr C’s brother. He has legitimately no excuse in the world to miss Thanksgiving. So I called to see why he wasn’t coming. That was news to him. He thought he WAS coming. Mr C’s sister — same thing! We were all planning on going but the parents just assumed we weren’t for some weird reason they’re calling a miscommunication but I’m calling bullshit. So since no “kids” were coming, the adults scrapped thanksgiving dinner at the N’s for a fall trip. Now they’re going to North Carolina to ride a train through the mountains. Sounds nice enough. So we conspired and decided we’d join. Then I did more research.

The parents are staying in a very overpriced lodge. Thats cool, cause my sister-in-law found us a cheap air BnB less than a mile away. Awesome! So I looked into this “dinner or lunch train.” Well, one: there’s no dinner or lunch. It’s just a 4.5 hour train ride. You can get a boxed lunch of a sandwich and chips. But I’m keto, I can’t eat the sandwich or the chips! Oh and those sweet antique steam dinner train vibes — nope. Only available in November and December. We’re riding a plain old commuter style train. It’s not even steam! So now I’m riding a foodless amtrak to nowhere as the main part of my trip. AWESOME. We’re only driving 4.5 hours hours both way for this privilege. Buy hey, good meals with family are worth it, right? Well, on the train we won’t all be together. Because it’s not a dining train. And dinners? there’s no where to eat dinner in the town we’re staying in or the town with the train! They’re shit towns, I looked! Fuck me, this trip sounds terrible. We’re all pretty mad they canceled dinner and games at the N’s but we didn’t realize the extent of this thing.

Then there’s my sweet tattoo. I can’t get it if I don’t get my arms done so there’s one worry. Also all the good artists are in LA or New York! I can’t get anyone to reply to my inquiries. And if I travel to one of these artists, can we do it in one go? Don’t they have to do it in stages? I can’t travel to New York 3 times! And who’s gonna take care of my precious Jack? That goes for all of these trips (except Florida when K is gonna house sit. Thats why K’s getting the sweet ass home warming present. Not the Dragon of Scams, though. He’s currently a deflating trophy in the garage). But it might not matter, because none of the artists have replied to my inquiries.

So. Yeah. I’m whiny. I told you I was melancholy. But I don’t really have anyone to whine to, so I’m doing it here. My blog, my therapist. I find myself lonely. I miss mom so much.

I’m here anytime you need to talk. Except when you need to talk.

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Got a text from sister1 today. Apparently sister2 had a breakdown and spent hours telling her how she had backslid into drinking a ton and depression and she was not doing okay over moms death. We all kinda knew that (When I sat in moms bedroom chair and looked to see what she had been reading, I assumed the hard liquor wasn’t hers), but she hadn’t admitted any of it. So sister1 wanted us to be mindful and reach out and let sister2 know we love her and not tell her we know kinda way.

In this same text message thread, sister3 mentioned she cried to nephew2 about mom just this weekend. Well, fuck I was talking just yesterday to nephew2 online and told him I was super upset about moms death too. So I was like, I’ll call sister3! She ignored my call, yall. You know how you click someone off and it goes to voicemail early ’cause you clicked them off. Uhuh. So okay, I’ll call sister2. She cuts me off too with the auto text “can’t talk right now.” She ALWAYS does this. She did it to mom all the time too. So no big surprise. Okay… I’ll call sister1. No answer. FUCK ME. So I call my mother-in-law cause she loves to talk. No answer (she’s most likely working and not ignoring me. She LOVES when I call). Yall have got to be kidding me!

So I called nephew1 and chatted a while. I wanted to talk about mom but I did not. I just talked to him about what was going on with him and his life. It was still good to talk to someone. And I left work early cause I was upsetty.

INTERMISSION: Hey I told Mr C when I got home super early: “I quit! … for the day.” Haha, he had one of those mini heart attacks.

Anyway, what the fuck? Everyone’s all “I’m here for you.” Except when you actually need to talk to someone and then no one will pick up the god damned phone. It’s been hours and no return calls either. And in the text thread where sister3 mentioned crying about it this weekend, she was like “I’m glad we all still think of her.” Again I say to you: what the fuck? Like no, I moved on. I don’t give a shit that my mom died on Christmas. I hardly think of it. Certainly not EVERY FUCKING DAY. What a shitty support net I have.

AND NOW, THIS…

God, that mug humored me so much when I saw it earlier in my Facebook Feed. “Bitch, I will put you in a trunk and help people look for you.” That’s good. I’ve never heard that. They had so many good ones too. (The picture links to Piper & Lou who sell these epic mugs.)

Missing Mom

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I tried to make myself a little less of a potato of depression and anxiety today. I got in the pool. But it just made me miss mom. I miss her insanely dark skin that smelled like Nivea. I miss talking about life while we floated in the pool. I miss joking about her flip flop tan lines she was trying to even out. I miss fetching her peanut butter crackers and peach wine while she sat on the tanning ledge. She should be there on the tanning ledge while I cool off inside. But she’s not. She won’t ever be again.

Not a speaker review

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So I bought a bluetooth speaker for the pool. Nothing extravagant, just a little speaker. I was going to write my review for it here. I’m trying to get a post AND an Amazon review out of my reviews. However, this one would start rather depressingly if I were honest. Not exactly good for the helpful votes. See I bought the speaker, because I’m lonely.

I’ve said many times that mom was my pool buddy. I’ve been worried about missing her a lot so one thing I did was buy the speaker. That way I could have music by the pool. And it works. It’s less lonely singing along to my Pandora station while I float around. But I still miss mom. And yet, I feel I don’t miss her enough.

I suppose it could be massive amounts of antidepressants, of course. But I feel like I’m just not sad enough. Yet, there is an infinite sadness if I stop long enough to look for it. It’s so weird. It’s like I don’t miss her in my day to day. My day to day goes on. I do what I do. It’s like life has not changed (even though, rationally, it has) — like she was just deleted all of the sudden. Like maybe she was never there — just *poof* gone.

There doesn’t seem to be an intrinsic piece of evidence of her existence. Sure there’s pictures and her room and her urn… But those are only evidence someone existed. They’re evidence a human was here. Of course I had a mother. Bot there’s not evidence that SHE was here. That that special person I had was here. And I feel like my continuing on day to day without more mourning than I have is a injustice to her. Like an insult. Like she can be replaced by a radio.

There’s no epic conclusion. I don’t have some wrap-up planned here. Much like life, this post doesn’t really end. It’s just me blabbering about.

Grief is weird. And there’s no one to point me in the right direction.

Fuck this Mother’s Day

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I wish I could skip this Mother’s Day. My mom isn’t here any more. She was the most awesome person ever and she’s gone. I have no mom to celebrate anymore so I don’t wanna participate. Leave me out, guys.

But I can’t. Mr C has a mom. I handmade her a nice card. We chose a bouquet of flowers to be delivered to her. Tomorrow we’ll talk to her and wish her a Happy Mother’s Day. And she is the mother of my favorite person so that’s fine. But it feels so wrong. She’s not my mom! She’ll never be close to being my mom. My mom dead. I can’t send my mom flowers. I can’t call my mom. Here I am doing all these things for my mother in law and nothing for my own mother. It feels dirty. Who’s gonna celebrate my mom? Who’s gonna acknowledge that fuck this day, my moms dead! She’s gone! Who’s gonna acknowledge my heartbreak? Fuck this shit. Fuck Mother’s Day. They stole my mom from me.

I did buy some plants in her honor. The other day I was at Home Depot and picked up a Hibiscus for the back stoop. Mom bought two big Hibisus for the front porch last year and I killed them over the winter. So here’s to mom! Then Friday I picked out some flowers for the planter on the stoop. Mom would have long had already planted that stoop full of blooming flowers. The front porch too! Lord she’d probably be putting shit down the front stairs by now. So in honor of mom, I did the back stoop. It looked nice. I posted it on facebook with a nice message about being blessed to have had an amazing mother who is so very missed.

I didn’t do the front because the front is a pain in the ass. I hate having to water the flowers out there. Plus, because of the columns and the path of the sun, one side gets way more sun than the other. But then I was at Ace Hardware and they had ferns. I casually asked how much they were. They were only $12. Momma loved a good fern. I could just hear her telling me how great they’d look on the porch. How can I leave such a beautiful porch bare? Such a shame. She never even asked me before planting it every year — she’d just come home with plants for the front porch and then I had plants to take care of. She’d plant elaborate mixed pots. Multiple pots for layers of flowers. *sigh* Mom would have bought those ferns so so did I.

Now they look like they need plant stands don’t they? I guarantee you mom would have them in plant stands before I wake up tomorrow. I’d wake up and she’d be like “see if you notice anything different!” She’d have to force hint the porch for me cause that’s a broad ask.

I love you, momma. I loved you with all my heart. I miss you so much. And I AM thankful that I got to have the kind of mom that leaves such a big gap in my heart. I’m glad I got to have you. Rest in peace, mom.

POOL!!!

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Our pool fence just got a major glow up. It’s just a plain six-foot privacy fence. Natural wood, five years old. We had someone come stain it this weekend. Not just that, but we added post caps and all new hardware too. It looks so good! The old hardware was confusing and ugly. And the post caps give it a nice finished detail that makes it look all expensive and fancy.

I am pumped. Specifically, pumped for the pool to open up! I’m so excited that I ordered a new pool float for the occassion. The pool is usually pretty cool in May, so I ordered a lounge float that you don’t get wet on (clicky). With this, I can float in the pool without freezing. We have the mesh eggplant (clicky) for mid-summer pool temps.

I’m not sure when it will be open, but I contacted my pool guy and he knows I want it open by Memorial Day. He’s super busy, so I have to work with when he is available. I sure as fuck can’t get that heavy ass pool cover off by myself! It’s expensive and extremely heavy. Plus pool guy cleans the pool and balances the chemicals for me to get it going. Then I take over from there until time to close and put the cover back on.

The only thing is, I’m insanely excited because I’m a pool girl all the way. (Obviously, or I wouldn’t have installed one). But this year I’m afraid to be excited. You see, the pools pretty boring by yourself. I can spend all day out there with a friend having a ball. But when it’s just you, it gets boring fast. Well, mom knew this so she’d come up as much as possible in the summer to spend pool days with me. Don’t worry, it wasn’t just for me. Mom was a water spirit herself. I’d wake up to find her out by the pool listening to the bubblers. She’d happily stay out there by herself. Mom loved to be outside.

So I guess I’m just afraid that without mom… the pool will just be really… sad. Empty. Lonely. So I didn’t want to let myself get excited but I can’t help it. I’m excited now. I just hope it doesn’t lead to heart break. Not NEW heartbreak, but just a reminder of that huge hole mom left behind.

Gardening and Weeds

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I’ve been doing a lot of gardening and weed assassination the past two weeks. It started because I want to get the pool area ready for staining the fence next weekend. Well, that includes before and after pictures and the weeds back there were a bee and dragonfly haven. Good for the bugs, but man it looked bad. So last weekend I did roundup all over the rocks. This weekend I took a weed-eater to knock down all the weeds.

They did not go quietly into that good night. Not only did the round-up not kill them off, but they didn’t like my weed-eater. The battery died halfway through the area. So I had to wait for it to charge up again. Then when I got going a second time, it ran out of string/line. I finished the job but inhaled so much solid pollen that I couldn’t sleep for the stopped up nose that evening. Fucking weeds. Don’t surround your pool with rocks for easy upkeep. It is the EXACT opposite. It would be so much easier to just mow some grass.

I also weeded my front flower beds because in for a penny, in for a pound. I purchased my new pool hat early so I could garden in it. It’s for sun protection, after all. I had Mr C come down and take a picture of me all gardening and being housewify. I posted it to Facebook because it made me feel so mature. Not mature in a “I can do what I want” way but more of a “I have special outfits, gloves, and hats just to garden in now — I AM the old lady from Steel Magnolias now” kinda way.

My sister commented with a matching pictures of my sweet momma in the same get up gardening in her yard. (Thats me on the right in the hat).

Mom was usually the one to weed my flowerbeds. She couldn’t sit still and got antsy, so she pretty much weeded everything every day. I mean, realistically, thats how you stay on top of it. You have to constantly be on those bastards. Sadly, this year it’s just me. Miss you, momma. But I’m super proud of my flower bed. Look at those Candy Corn Spireas! I just adore them. (See, middle age. Men buy cars and electronics, women nest).

Also I treated the bats to some new life under the bat pole. I got them some additional day lilies (they already had yellow, now they have red too) and some purple summer plant the guy at the nursery recommended. Holy shit there’s a lot of bat guano under that pole. First night I counted 37 bats leaving. There has to be more than that in there now judging by the piles of guano. I need to scope it out one night this week and see how many we’re up to. I really hope I didn’t scare them too much today by gardening under their house. I didn’t hear them screeching at me and I tried to be fast.

Looking down.

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So this morning at work I was consulting the Senior Scientist.  Yes, that’s his real title, I’m jealous.  My goal is to become a SME (Subject Matter Expert) which is basically what he is, but I’ve never heard them called “Senior Scientists” before this job.  It sounds so fancy.  Now I want to be one even more.

SMEs are basically the unfirable people the company can’t live without.  They can curse out the customer and not get a slap on the wrist.  They’re just too valuable because they know everything about that thing and no one else does.  I know of a one-degree-of-separation-from-me SME that was on a customer call and started ranting and cursing.  The customer being fucking NASA.  Management’s response?  Let’s not tell him when we have customer calls anymore.  I worked with a SME, Rich, and he was like 75 and already maxed out his payscale but he was too invaluable to the company to lose.  I personally witnessed him in a meeting tell the presenter “there’s no fucking way that’s gonna work and LAUGH.”  He was right, of course.  And no one said a thing.  Because it was Rich and Rich is like the guru go-to for that piece of software that no one else can figure out.  He could do something in 2 hours that would take someone else a month to figure out.  Rich knows more than you ever will.  And he can retire any minute he pleases so you don’t say shit to Rich.  SME life is where it’s at.  I just wanna be so valuable to a company for knowing everything about this one niche piece of legacy software that I can curse at whomever I please without repercussion.  It’s my only career goal besides retirement. 

It sounds like you have to be a genius to be a SME.  You don’t.  You just work on a piece of software long enough and you end up knowing everything about how it works by nature.  You just become the person everyone comes to to ask questions.  You know where this new code needs to go because you worked on that piece two years ago and you were at the initial design meetings where it was discussed.  The other engineers would need to work all that out, but you just remember it.  You have become the SME simply by staying in one place for so long.

Anyway, SME discussion aside, I was talking to our “Senior Scientist”/SME this morning.  This is one of my two favorite people at my job.  You know, the job I despise with everything I have?  Yeah, well there are a few people I like there that aren’t DeBitch.  I’d love to be outside-of-work-friends with two of these people.  And Mr Senior Scientist here is one of them.  So he’s discussing the shit I asked him about and he’s like “do you understand what I’m taking about”  — yes, I do.  And then he’s like “you seem so down.”  Well, yeah.  I’m at work.  I’m down at work.  Also it’s a Monday.    

However, I also had a panic attack this morning.  I didn’t mention that.  I might later if he mentions my spirits again.  I’m still heavily grieving my mother and you don’t realize you’re still so upset until a little thing just hits you.  I didn’t even realize I’d been hit.  Today when I got up and got ready, I went for my cat on my way downstairs – as always.  He’s either downstairs on the couch (can be verified easily as it’s visible as you pass the stairs) or in moms room.  He was in moms room curled up on the bed next to the tray with her glasses and ashes and some photos.  She’d have liked him curled up on her bed. “Look at him!”

I sat down beside him to love on him.  I’ve been careful to not rush past him in the mornings like I usually would.  I hate my job and my precious only has a short time left with me.  So I want to give him as much love as possible.  I can spare a few minutes.  So I sat beside him and started stroking his fur while looking at the photos of mom.  I thought of the conversation I had with my brother’s wife last night.  Two of my siblings are in complete despair.  I didn’t realize it was so bad for my brother.  He’s been having so much anxiety that he hasn’t spent the night in his own bed since she died.  He’s been sleeping on the couch.  Hearing that crushed me.  I adore my brother.  He was my father figure growing up. 

So for a brief moment I remembered their despair and wondered if I’m cold.  Should I be in more grief than I am?  The moment didn’t last long – a passing thought in my mind.  I didn’t marinate on the thought at all – it fluttered through.  I picked up the cat and carried him downstairs to shove a pill down his throat.  He still resists those fucking pills with everything he has in him.  Give me a break, fuzzy fuzzy!  I’m doing this FOR YOU. 

And then my chest tightened.  A panic attack.  The burning knot behind my sternum.  The absolute feeling of existential dread.  The elevated heart rate.  What the fuck?  I started beating on my chest to try and relax the muscles.  Trying to talk myself down in my head.  Relax relax relax.  Focus on your breathing.  Focus on the cold granite of the counter top you’re now leaning on to try to ease the pain.  The smoothness of the stone. The quarter bevel edge you chose – good choice, you.  Full round is tacky.  Look at the plants in the window.  Ground yourself.  Don’t lose it.  Don’t give in.  Beat on your chest some more because damn I’m having a heart attack now.  At least it’s before work and not after.  If I’m going down, take me down before my ass has to go to work.  Relax relax relax.  It’s ok.  You got this. Damn that hurts.  It’s okay. It’s okay.  Pound on your chest.  Deep rub the muscles.  You’re good.  Work is gonna be good cause you didn’t slack off Friday.   

Stand up and get going.  The world doesn’t stop for you.  The world doesn’t give a shit about your feelings.  You have a meeting in 30 minutes. 

So I grabbed my stuff.  Feed my good boy his stinky food.  He gets it twice a day after discovering he lost an entire pound between vet visits for his kidney workups.  Grab my keys and lock the door behind me as Mr C is still sleeping.  Beat on my chest as I walk to the car.  And now Chucks telling me I look “down.”  I am down, Chuck.  I’m real down.

The Easter Bunny is dead.

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So Easter was pretty depressing for me. I didn’t expect it to be. I didn’t really have any expectations for Easter. Sure, we usually go spend Easter with my family since they’re closer than Mr C’s. But it never seems like a big deal. I didn’t think it did, at least. We’d go have big Easter dinner and hide eggs for the kids. Mom would always have a spread of all the best candies laid out in cute containers around the table display at her house — with Andes for Mr C (his favorite).

I made Mr C an Easter basket as always. I did not expect him to get me anything as he never has for Easter. And yet… I was really sad and depressed about it. No one called to wish me a Happy Easter. No fun present from mom. Mr C didn’t even come downstairs to get his basket for hours. He oddly claimed that he’s not used to getting anything on Easter. Which is utter bullshit as I’ve made him an Easter basket for the past twelve years now. One year his friend was visiting and I made the friend a basket too. Which he completely ignored and I got my feelings hurt that he didn’t even pretend to care. And mom always had him Andes. Were our thoughtful little gifts that forgettable?

You see, my love language is gifts. It’s how mom raised me. And gifts don’t have to be huge. Gifts can be free even. Like if I get a free drink with my lunch at work, I get something for Mr C and bring it home. It’s the “hey, I was thinking about you.” “Hey, I love you.” “Hey, I went a little out of my way to bring you a smile.” Sure I could have just not got a drink, but I got a coke and slipped it in my lunch bag for you. One of my favorite gifts from Mr C was when he drew me a cute picture with some inside jokes and my favorite things.

One year mom got us all different kinds of Jelly Belly’s. I got “Peas and Carrots” because I love peas and carrots. She mailed mine and almost had me really convinced that she mailed ACTUAL peas and carrots to me. She was on the phone with me on my way home from work when I was checking the mail. She got me.

She was my Easter Bunny. Mom never showed up without a gift. It could be a $2.00 clearance shirt from Old Navy or a pillow for my beach chairs or out of season Halloween decorations I could use the next year. She never spent much. But she was always on the lookout for something you’d like. Or that someone would like. I bet her trunk was full of these little gifts for her various children and grand kids that she just happened upon.

I miss her so much. I miss the chatting. I miss the gossip. I miss that — whats a good word — that unwavering love. The ever present unconditional love. Which might be rose colored glasses. I mean it’s not like we didn’t frustrate each other plenty of times. But alas… my Easter Bunny is dead. I miss those tiny notional gifts. I miss those phone calls. I miss the gardening help and advice. I need my mom. But that need can never be filled. She really stepped up and provided a lot of my “love” need. I’m not sure Mr C can possibly step up even close to that role. Sure I’ve got my soulmate cat — but he’s only good for like 1 or 2 more years. What then? What am I gonna do? *Heavy Sigh*