Friday, July 19, 2013

Before Conrad started Kindergarten, I worked at home every Thursday and Friday. It was a very special time for me. Not only was I able to enjoy my career, but I could be with my little guy at the same time. Every Friday evening, after my "grueling day at the office" my mom would stop by to pick us up. We would go out to eat somewhere simple, like Arby's. Then, SHOPPING!!!
  
This summer my employer has been very generous, allowing me to work at home on Fridays. It is a joy to work in my home office and hear Conrad's playful chattering in the background. My dogs lazing at my feet. My cats nosing around, too. Then, I hear the side door rattle and eventually open. (It has a tendency to stick.) The dogs bark. And, for a few seconds my mom is there.

Her shoes clunk against the wood floor. There is breathful exasperation. (She always hated how that door sticks.) Then she sings-songs her "hellloooo!" It is my mom. She has come home! She is standing in the doorway -- "Puppers" and "Mogli" running to greet her. She never sits. She just stands there patiently waiting -- cooing to the dogs. Examining the latest and greatest contraption that Conrad presents her with.

And then, as quickly as she came, she is gone. And I sit and I cry -- longing for what will never be again.

People tell me memories are wonderful. They say they will bring me peace and happiness. 

But, right now, I don't feel it. I only feel the loneliness of an empty doorway.

Thursday, July 18, 2013

No one ever told me grief would be like this.

No one ever told me that...

The first thought I would have upon waking is, "My mom is not here."

The last thought I would have before sleeping is, "My mom is not here."

I would see the sun, but not feel it.

I would hear the laughter, but not embrace it.

The sound of your voice is what I would miss most.

The silence would sting so badly.

Nothing would matter.

Life would lose its purpose.

Time would not heal the pain.

The things I once loved would no longer be mine.

I would die too.

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Dear Mom,

You are more than my mom. You are my best friend.

You are more than my best friend. You are my mom.

Not even death can take that away.

Love,

Kerry