A departure from all things pups and kitty. Instead, something about the one who helped shape this life I lead.
25 years. It represents a passage of time, seemingly so long, but in a moment’s notice, it has flown.
25 years - the Silver Anniversary. I’ll never forget my parents’ 25th anniversary on Long Boat Key, Florida. What a beautiful occasion in a beautiful location, beautiful beach, moonlit nights. A glorious celebration of life and love.
25 is a number, not a moment. Not a definition. No meaning. Or many meanings, mathematically.
But 25 years ago today my mama was officially declared deceased. Very suddenly. We had dinner together as daughter and parents one night, and the next morning, my mama was on life support.
A woman so full of life. One who adored her husband and her children. A woman who embraced life and loved to the fullest.
I held her hand while she faded, then left me to become my best guardian angel and God’s happiest angel.
25 years. Where did that time go? How could it be that long that she was not here? It seems as if it was yesterday. And yet it seems forever.
I still feel the same pain.
Since Mama left, I moved to Missouri with her “grandkids” – Cyrus, Sheba and Sasha. The ones she always brought treats for in her suitcase when she came to visit me in Ohio. I’ve adopted and rescued 5 more, Mom. But you probably already met Britty, Berry and the heartdog, Schemie, huh.
I’ve met the most wondrous people, Mom. Good hearted people. And I’ve met, online, black-hearted ones too. I’m not sure it makes you terribly proud (or maybe it does), but your baby never lost that attitude you and I showed in Columbus, OH about those damn buckeyes. Now it's about the dogs. This I know you can appreciate.
I was tasked with picking out what should be engraved on her rose granite headstone. “Yea though I walk..” just was not right. It did not fit my mom. None of those scripted ones really did.
So I had to find the real things that wrapped up 57 years of life. I read, and reread every copy of cards my daddy received. And found what I wanted, wrapped up in all of them.
Mommy, I so wish you were still here. Every day, I wish I could talk to you. So many things to say, but you already know them too, don’t you?
You might have your hands full, Mom, with my babies until I get there. They listen, so they’ll be good for their grandma. Keep tabs on my munchkins till I get there, ok?
But I plan to see you and my kids again. One day.
Mama? I love you.
And I miss you.
And most of all, thank you for being the best mama ever!
So, what did I have engraved on that rose granite?
“A smile, a hug, a laugh.
Her love is her legacy.”
“There’s a place for us, somewhere a place for us…”