Signs from Mom

I lost my mom twice.  While I physically lost her on March 11, 2018, I lost her so many years ago to Alzheimer's.  At this time in my life of raising my own little girl, I often think of everything we have missed out on and how different our lives would be if she were here.  And while I try to remain thankful for what I do have, the truth is, I sometimes get mad at God for taking her away.  Why did this have to happen to her?  And what did we, as a family do to deserve this fate?

More often than not, though, I just get sad.  Sad when I see grandmothers out with their grand kids or hear about my coworkers who are off to visit/babysit theirs for the weekend.  Sad when Alexis does or says something that reminds me so much of my younger self, and I want to tell Mom that she was right (and that I'm sorry!).  And, selfishly, sad when we don't have her to watch Alexis so we can have a date night or to take her overnight for a sleepover.

The other night, Dan had a work event and there was a spin class I really wanted to go to.  Since he wasn't home to watch Alexis, though, I had to miss my class.  I wasn't going to get a babysitter for less than an hour, and I didn't want to impose on my brother or a friend just so I could go to the gym.  I know, though, that if my mom was alive, she would have been over in a heartbeat.  I would have gone to class and then probably would have picked up a pizza on the way home for us to share (thus happily negating the workout).  It's things like that that really bother me.

I often think of what we would be doing if she was still here.  I long for the times I would call her up and ask her to go to lunch or to the movies.  I think about how she would have spent so much time at our house, especially when I was home on maternity leave.  We would have loved to go to yard sales and flea markets and attack those after Christmas sales together.

And it's not like I don't have anyone else to do these things with. Dan tries his best to understand my hunt for a good bargain, and my Dad has done more than enough to try and fill the role of both parents.  But it's not the same.  Moms are never replaced.

But, despite all this, I know that for all I have missed out on and for all that she has missed, I gained so much in the time we did have with her.  She taught me everything I know about being a mom and for that, I am eternally grateful.  She saved everything from my childhood - my old clothes, toys, books, etc. - and when I pass these on to Alexis, it's like she's giving us a gift without even being here.

And I do believe that some good has come from this, because, even through the sadness, we try to make the best of it.  We advocate for Alzheimer's in hopes that one day, no other family will have to go through this.  We have raised over $125,000 for the Alzheimer's Association with the love and support from our family and friends.  And we are there for each other in the good times and bad.  Mom would have especially loved how close we have grown since her original diagnosis.

So, while I do miss her every minute of every day, I do know that she's always with us.  As further proof of that (which is something I need every now and then) there have been so many signs from her since she passed that just can't be ignored.

One day over the summer, we were walking around downtown Salem with my sister-in-law and brother-in-law.  Someone on the street was playing music, and as we walked by, he started to play "What A Wonderful World".  Mom's favorite song.  My eyes filled with tears.

Also this summer, Dan and I took Alexis to Story Land.  While there, we walked by a randomly placed Pop-Up Book Mobile in the park with a few books for sale as part of a literacy program the park was promoting.  As I sifted through the racks, I came across several Little House on the Prairie books.  These were different books I had never seen before and ones I knew Mom wanted me to add to our collection.

My mom and I also loved looking for loose change whenever we were out.  We would pick up anything we found, mostly pennies, and put them in our purple crayon piggy bank.  Every so often, we would roll the money and use it to do something special together.  We'd rent a movie, go out for ice cream, or get MacDonald's.  Though it never amounted to much, the time spent together and the memories that little habit had created, was priceless.  Now whenever I see loose change on the street, I pick it up, smile, and thank Grandma for sending a sign.  And of course, put it in the purple crayon piggy bank.


For Halloween, I wanted Alexis to be Laura Ingalls.  I figured this was probably my last chance to get her to wear something I wanted without her putting up too much of a fight.  I really talked Laura up just before Halloween, and we watched bits and pieces of the show.  The afternoon of our town's Horribles Parade, Lex, dressed in her Laura Ingalls costume (and quite proudly for that matter), got out of the car only to find a penny at her feet.  Thanks Mom.

And finally, when I went to get my tattoo this summer in Mom's memory, we were talking to the tattoo artist about its meaning.  I asked her what her first tattoo was and she said a small butterfly.  My mom, conservative as she was, always wanted a small butterfly tattoo.  I knew she was there with me that day.

So even though Mom is gone from this world, I know her spirit remains alive.  If I can be even half the mother she was, then I know Alexis will be just fine.

Be well,