First day of spring. REALLY?

HAPPY FIRST DAY OF SPRING Well technically it is the second day of spring but really. I get so tired of snow. Especially when the snowblower doesn't work and my son decided to play video games all night instead of shoveling. I had to work yesterday into last night 3pm to 3 am. It's an okay shift, I am always busy but I have no time during the day. When I worked 7pm to 7 am at least I had time to do homework or laundry or maybe clean the house. (Well at least look like I was cleaning it). Anyway, getting back to the reason I was talking about my work, Imy children were all home yesterday when I left. Watching tv and playing video games. Knowing I come home at 4am I would have thought my children would have shoveled the driveway. I mean they are 18 and 23. They know I come home really early. Come on how hard is it, really? to say I was not happy when I got home was an understatement. I drove over the huge pile of snow, compliments of the snow plow, at the end of my driveway. Praying I would actually make it in the spot. I drove Mom's car which handled it great! I love that car for snow!
You can tell that we had quite a bit of snow. I think old man winter was ready to leave and came back and said SIKE! I can not wait to see flowers and hear birds singing. what a great thing to hear.

Comments

Letters from the Heart

How do I say goodbye to my mom. How can I do that and not hurt? Memories keep coming to me and I laugh or I cry mostly I cry. I cry because I didn’t write down that favorite recipe she always made when we came home. I cry because I should have had more patience with her. I cry because I won’t be able to sit and have tea with her. Ever. Never again. I cry for myself. I cry for my brothers. I cry for my children and their children. How do I make this hurt any less than it does? How do I make the tears stop flowing? Is there a way to make them stop? Maybe laughter. Maybe that is the way. Remember the good times. Remember hotdog soup. Remember frying pans knocking someone out. Remember the car rides to grandmas house. Remember the summer trips. Laughing helps but not for long. Family around me will be sure to help. Getting together and celebrating her. That will help. I now know that nothing will help. I think this hurt will last the rest of my life. I don’t want this. I want my mom....

Letters from Mom

I was starting a new project today and came across a plastic filing cabinet that was not unpacked. I had seen it for a while now but didn't really think much of it. I am not sure what got me to unpack it today. The first thing I did was cut the wrapping off and on the top of it was a letter. I didn't think much of it until I saw the handwriting. It was my moms'. It was a letter written to me dated May 20, 2002. I don't remember the letter and have no clue what was going on in my life at that time. I don't remember the conversation Mom was talking about in the letter. I can say that I am glad I held onto the letter. To be honest I tend to hold on the all letters written to me. I have a bunch from Mike and Grandma too. I am sure I have more from others as well. Its funny how you don't think to keep things for later years. I am glad I am sentimental. So in this letter, Mom tells me she is proud of me. Right before I le...

it all started with gummy worms.

February 2, 2019 another day that will be hard for me to forget. My mother, went home to be with her Lord and Savior. 4:00 in the afternoon. It has only been 5 months but it seems like yesterday. Why when sad, or crappy things happen do we tend to remember everything. Mom was in rehab for her leg. She fell down the basement steps on Ryan’s Birthday. Just the last two steps. She misjudged and thought she was on the last step but actually had 2 more to walk down. She broke her leg. Her tibia was split by her femur. We called 911 and had her taken to the hospital via ambulance. Mom remembered the women who arrived to take her to the hospital. She remembered the firemen that helped to carry her upstairs to the waiting in gurney. She remembered the emergency room. And the doctors she met there. She was transferred to the third floor to await surgery to fix the leg. She didn’t really remember that. She remembered the people who helped her but not being on the floor. She didn’t...

momof2redheads

Search This Blog