I can’t tell you how many times I’ve started to post but just couldn’t do it. I wasn’t ready. The last time I wrote here my Mom was alive, and I was busy taking notes. She passed from this life into the arms of her Savior on December 15th. I have been busy mourning, sorting, filing, crying, remembering, grieving, praying, and cherishing. But thankfully, there has been no regret – NONE!
During her last few weeks she was visited by lots of family members who had read my book. She was thrilled to hear them wanting to know more of our family’s history. You see, Mom spent most of her adult life researching our genealogy. I have boxes to prove her work began long before computers were around. She was passionate to find out the answers to questions which only led to more questions as her research deepened. Sadly, many questions will never be answered. I’m thankful for the stories we do know, and that’s thanks to Mom’s hard work.
I’ll never forget walking into Mom’s room having just remembered someone we needed to call to let them know of her prognosis. Before I could say a word she said, “Debi, you need to call so and so!” We always did that – she called it reading each other’s minds. 🙂 It would usually make us laugh, but not this time.
I started to cry and said, “Mom, what am I going to do without you?”
She answered in her matter-of-fact tone, “Think for yourself, that’s what!”
So here I am, a little over five weeks since I saw her last, and I’m having to think on my own. She can’t remind me to do this or find out about that. I’m still paying her bills until we can close up her estate, but it’s not the same. I used to do it for her. Now I’m doing because it has to be done until we’re finished. And if I have a question, I can’t call her and ask.
I gave Mom the first copy of my book on September, 26, 2012. Two weeks before she died I had the thought that this book would soon be mine, so I asked her to sign the inside cover for me. I’m so glad she did. What did she write? It was nothing fancy, but it means to world to me.
She wrote with her weakened grip, “I love you, Mom!”
I love you, too, Mom. I think I’m finally ready to stand up and think for myself, but I’ll always miss you.