17 February 2009

Time since... nine months

Seven years since the 2k2 winter olympics in SLC. I was all caught up in the whirlwind. One evening, just her and I ventured through Park City. Listening to music, waiting in line at Roots to get our official berets. We were both into collecting pins. I displayed mine in a shadow box, hers laced the edges of her beret. I was given her beret after the accident. I've scarcely been able to look at it. Such a strong physical memory of her, upright and youthful, she looked enticing in hats. We had so much fun that night. We happened upon one gathering, the Jamaican Bobsled Team was posing for pictures and autographs... for a price. Mom left to use the ladies room and when she came back, one of the team had me firmly in his grip and was literally chewing on my neck. Her face expressed what she didn't say... "What in the hell are you doing?" ...with a spark in her eye of course. I said, trying to wriggle out of the situation, "he said for a kiss..." I offered a peck on the cheek and he must of thought I was approving the full make out. We got our pictures and autographs and laughed about it a long time afterwards. She was mischievous, my mother. I thought of her quite a bit while in Washington, DC. I told dad, that mom would have loved this last minute inaugural adventure, he agreed, saying she probably would have jumped on the plane with me. I thought of her and my 3rd grade teacher "rescuing" a lithograph of the signing of the Declaration of Independence from the basement our elementary school... is that where my interest in politics began? Or my love of quirky adventures. I've been swimming in memories of her, they flood my dreams and waking hours. I miss having a Mother, bottom line. I feel lonely and lost. That same third grade teacher wrote me a note I read every morning... a line goes like this, "I love you DeAnn - sending you warm hugs and wishing you someplace safe and cozy you can go to when you need that kind of space."
Really, it comforted me like a microfleece blanket... it felt like the first motherly action freely given me since I lost her. 


Sara Jane said...

Oh, De Ann. I'm glad that you do your time past posts. You are brave to share your thoughts and emotions about your mom's death. My heart just aches for you, Jen, Mel, and Uncle Doug. I think of Aunt Saundra often, but your posts have a way of just really stirring up the emotions of thoughts of such a great, neat, extraordinary woman.

karengberger said...

Those memories are a blessing, but I know how they can also sting. It's very hard, traveling the path of grief. My warm thoughts are with you, praying for comfort to fill your heart.