Monday, March 24, 2014


The last e-mail my mother sent me was a forwarded message about the impending publication of the book which included her essay. The last e-mail I sent to her was my response, a simple "Yaaaaaaay!!"  Had I thought about the finality of that message?  Did I know it would be the last?

There could be far worse conclusions.  It didn't end with an unanswered question, there were no harsh feelings; she was sharing something she was so incredibly proud of, and I shared my joy about it with her.  

I have found it hard to do much of late.  I can feel that, if I didn't have my own kids, this loss would be so much harsher, because to me, there is no option that involves letting my children down.  My need to encourage them and help them realize their own potential forces me to step out the door when I would rather hide; my desire to see them thrive pushes me to take care of myself in order to care for them.  I am pretty successful at the day to day, they are fed, they are clean, they seem happy, and we have even been pretty successful in our homeschooling efforts and have been making new friends.

But beyond that, it is admittedly pretty hard.  I haven't been able to write, even my attempts at documenting the amazing work these kids have been doing, or their progress in general, have proved way too daunting to tackle.

Instead I find myself hiding in social media, and searching through old posts to find tidbits from my mother. I hope to soon be able to pick up and carry on, and in her honor create something wonderful, but for now I must be kind to myself.

And so…

My mother's last Facebook post was "My nurses's name is Angel today and she is!!" 

Love you, Mama.