Her words

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It’s hard to believe it has been a little over a month since my mother passed away. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about her and wonder what she may be doing if I were to pick up my phone and call her. See, right now the  most difficult thing for me is not being able to pick up the phone to speak with her. Although she lived hundreds of miles away in Colorado, it was very rare that a day passed when we didn’t speak to one another. Even if it was a short “hi and bye” conversation, I was still able to hear her sweet voice.

On the month anniversary of her death, I found myself at home and missing her like crazy. Normally I would grab my phone and call to chat before I went to bed, but it really hit me that I couldn’t do that. So instead, I pulled out this blue leather journal she wrote for me seven years ago.

See, seven years ago my mother turned 50 and I turned 25. We were both so excited about these milestone birthdays that we wanted to do something big. And what isn’t bigger than Las Vegas. My mother had been several times before and it would be my first visit out there. She was very keen on finding the best deals (right Fred?) and had everything planned before the date was even settled. We planned the trip to coincide with her most treasured musician, Sting, performing at Tiger Jam. It was perfect.

That trip has long since passed, but what I didn’t know at the time was that year my mother had started a journal for my brother and I to read long after she was gone. Some pages are poems she had written. Others are about her life with my dad when they met in California years ago. It contains a specific page dedicated to the story of my birth. For those of you who may not know, each year my mother would call both my brother and I on our birthday’s and share the story of when we came into this world. I looked forward to hearing this story each year and although I could recite it by heart, no one could tell it as enthusiastically and lovingly as my mother. We were her miracles. Literally her babies she was told she would never have.

Reading through this journal brought so many tears of joy and sadness to my heart, but so perfect for that moment. Even though my mom is gone, she knew the words to put down in this journal to continue to speak to us. I am extremely grateful for this journal and know that when I miss her, I can find some comfort in her written words.

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