Happy Birthday Mommy.

First of all, today was special because it was my mother's birthday.  She was born on July 11th and she died on it as well. I remember the day clearly. My husband was in Iraq when I got the call about my mother. At that time we only had Alexis and Ariana.While we were trying to make arrangements for us to fly to the states, I got a call saying that she was okay. They said that she would be able to get out of the hospital and go to rehab for her problem. So, the plan was for the girls and I to fly out in a few months. Well later that day, it was going to be a little later in the states. So I thought I would call her and wish her a happy birthday. I got a call telling me she left us. Ironically my father was by her side. I have never hurt so badly as I did when I saw her for the first time at the wake. She looked so different. I dreaded the funeral like you wouldn't believe. I held on to my Bible the entire time I was walking down the isle. I was sure that something would fall from me if I let it go.

After I returned to Germany I started writing. It was the only thing that helped me. Writing more than likely saved my life, it helped me deal with my issues without thinking about killing myself. Before my mom died I called her like four times a day, so I really needed something to fill the hole. I was a mess..until one night I had a dream about her talking to me about my writing. I guess she knows that I write now, and I'm pretty sure she is okay with it.   

So that brings me to my major mess up today in the kitchen. My mother loved to cook black eyed peas and cornbread with pork chops. My peas tasted like mush, but maybe it was because I watched them cook all day. Every time I went to the pot, I thought about mom and her peas. The peas looked just like hers, and smelled like her peas to some degree. So I would continually turn them down so i could watch them cook. It made me feel closer to her. I ended up cooking an extra meal of beans, rice, and brats for the kids. I miss her so much. I dreamed of her this week, and she told me to keep on doing what I'm doing. She was telling me to not be like her...I'm not sure what she meant..or what she was talking about.

My mother was a strong woman, and everyone who knew her loved her. She had a hard life, but she always made sure we had food on the table, and clothes on our back. I look at my life now, and I wonder if any of her is inside of me. Then I think back to her and her dreams. She was fifty when she decided she wanted to go to college to become a nurse. All those years she never thought she could, I recall how afraid she was to smile at times. She would cover her mouth up as if she were horrid. She was a good looking lady. So, for all of the problems that I might have had growing up...one thing I never gave up on was the love I felt for my parents. I wish she could have met my Alison...better known as Ruby Jewel..after her granny.