Why Didn't I Think of That?

We're all a buzz over here, getting ready for Abbey's wedding, the wedding of the century. I have pictures to post from Christmas and Cecilia's birthday, but those will come later. Right now we have to prepare and celebrate.

Christy called this morning, missing mom. Mom would have loved to be there this weekend. She loved big elaborate fancy parties. She would have been in her element. Christy and I were talking about how it rained on my wedding day, and she said that one of mom's best friends, MaryLee, whispered to Christy when we walked out the church door that the rain was mom's tears of joy. I had never thought of that, but it's like that sad country song, Holes in the Floor of Heaven.


Well my little girl is 23
I walk her down the aisle
it's a shame her mom can't be here now
to see her lovely smile

They throw the rice
I catch her eye
as the rain starts comin' down
she takes my hand says daddy don't be sad 'cause
I know momma's watchin' now

And there's holes in the floor of Heaven
and her tears are pourin down
that's how you know she's watchin'
wishin' she could be here now
and sometimes when I'm lonely
I remember she can see
there's holes in the floor of Heaven
and she's watchin' over you and me



There are still some days like today, 11 years later, that I still miss her so dearly. I know we'll have fun this weekend. I know mom will be in our hearts. And maybe next time it rains I can stop scurrying around and grimacing and take a minute to feel mom's embrace.

My Favorite Holiday Tradition

We have been using the same dough recipe and cutters for as long as I can remember. The butter cookie recipe comes from my Great Grandma, Charlotte Hundhausen. Some of the cutters are new, some are older than me. I love the decorating, the sprinkles, the getting together. Makes me feel like a kid, and also warms my heart to pass on this tradition to my kids. Good stuff right here.

Lilith

One week before the Lilith Fair came to St. Louis, I received an email from a lady at GM Communications saying Chevrolet is sponsoring the Lilith Fair and she had tickets for me. I emailed her back, and soon enough Christy, Abbey, Sara and I were on our way to the Verizon Ampitheatre on a Friday afternoon, hidden flask and all. The line up didn't look that impressive on paper, but the music was very good. I was very happy we got to hear Ingrid Michaelson. Who knew I even knew a few of her songs? Metric was full of a UK electric pop vibe, and Emmylou Harris was ethereal. There were lots of great moments that only a Lilith Fair could create, like when Christy asked, "did you see all those uteruses?" or when the thought came into my mind, "why is there a man in the girls bathroom?" Sarah McLachlan is probably my all time favorite feminine singer, so she stuck out leaps and bounds, but I was happily surprised by Mary J. Blige's performance. She came out in a gold outfit and high heels, big bangle earrings, and the entire crowd automatically got off their feet and starting dancing and swaying. I never saw so many lesbians trying hard to dance like Ellen in my life. She was very womanly, and filled my heart with so much pride to be feminine.

Mary J. Blige's song, "I Am" was particularly moving for me. The lyrics sang to me.

Ain't nobody gonna treat you better
Ain't nobody gonna touch you better
Ain't nobody gonna love you better
boy
than I am
Than I am

I'm sure these words were made for a lover, but I couldn't help thinking about my daughters. My mom wrote down her memories of her mom for a geneology thing, and I came across them once, soon after I was married, and not long after she had passed. Mom wrote that while her mom, my Grandma Gen, was in the hospital, she gave my mom some "Mad Money" to go spend on herself, not on her husband or kids. My mom then wrote that she didn't think anyone would love her like her mom loved her. As a newlywed, when I read that, I couldn't help think that was a slight on my dad. Now that I am a mom myself, I recognize those feelings. It isn't diminishing the love between husband and wife, rather it's building on that love. John is the love of my life, but I do believe that no one is going to love my girls the way that I do; the way that a mom can.

And so lies my struggle.

After being married a year or three, the question of raising a family came up and I was terrified of having a child, mainly because I was scared of the grief that I imagined would resurface. After being married 6 years, a baby entered our lives, and God couldn't have given us a better blessing, except for giving us another bundle of joy 16 months after that. I was either pregnant or nursing (or both(!)) from March 2007 to May 2010. I think I had maybe 24 hours for each baby of "baby blues" but survived relatively unscathed in the unhappy emotion aspect, until recently. Now, for the first time in over 3 years I am not pregnant or nursing, and my hormones are a little out of wacked, or perhaps exactly on track (?) and I have many days of feeling tired, exhausted, my body feels heavy, my heart feels heavy. I am occassionally crabby, and often moody. I am reading books like "The Happiest Toddler On the Block" trying to weave my way through this thing called motherhood. All I really think I need is a good talk with my mom, some hard sound advice about my new reality. As much as I love my daughters, I know my mom loved me and I miss that love.

And if I couldn't get any more pathetic, I joined a "Motherless Daughters" meetup group. I was searching for a moms group online that doesn't meet during the day during the week. Am I the only working mom in St. Louis who would like a playdate in the evening or weekend? It appears so. Anyway, while searching the meetup groups (there are some crazy ones out there) I found a Motherless Daughters group based on the book. I sent them an email asking if they still meet, and they replied, yes once a month, on Wednesday evenings. So I joined their group, and rsvped to the meeting last week. It was at a coffee shop not too terribly far from my house. I was scared to go, a little nervous about baring my soul to strange women, but told them I was going, and so go I would. Except... no one else was there.... How heartbreaking and embarrassing to go to a self help group, meet people from the internet, and have none of them show up. =(

Yuck.
Gag.
Sob.
Blah.

And so, I guess I'm doing it myself, gonna miss my mom and raise my kids in my own way, try hard not to snap at them, or my very patient and loving husband, try hard to eat "mood boosting" foods like fish and green tea, and go at it one day at a time, taking solsice knowing I'm not the only mom or woman out there who feels tired or sad on occasion, and the important thing is to "love one another."

We don't need, don't need, no haters
Just try to love one another
We just want y'all have a good time
No more drama in your life
Work real hard to make a dime
If you got beef, your problem, not mine
Leave all that BS outside
We're gonna celebrate all night
Let's have fun, tonight, no fights
Turn the Dre track way up high
Making you dance all night and
IGot some real heat for ya this time
Doesn't matter if you're white or black
Let's get crunk cause Mary's back

Mother's Day

This is a picture of mom and I (and Sharon and Heather) on what I think is Thanksgiving 1992. I had the perm and the V-neck sweater in full force. =)

Mother's Day is not the easiest day for me. In fact, from 2001 to 2006 it was one of the worse days of the year for me. But, Cecilia and now Charlotte have made this day much better for me. They make every day much better for me. I never thought being a mom would feel this good; this fulfilling. And while I am very happy to be a mom, there are many times I wish I could talk about my experiences with my own mom. Some of my mom's happiest days were when she had a new grandbaby. She would always be right there at the hospital, eyes shining, mouth grinning, holding that baby like it was pure gold.

Sometimes I think grief is very selfish. I don't do well with self pity parties. But, I do wish that for myself, for my own happiness, for these past few days, that I could have shared all this with my mom.

I am having a good day over here. John got me a nice card and chocolates. =) Cecilia slept until 9 (unheard of) and Charlotte slept until 10(after she was awake from 1- 6.) The Cards are on the tube, and we have a busy day of laundry, vacuuming, a trip to the park and grocery store, and we plan to make sushi rolls for dinner. It's not exciting, but what is exciting is the fact that I have a wonderful husband, and two beautiful girls to do all the normal everyday stuff with. It's like when I was little and used to play house, except this is not pretend.

Sewing the Seeds of Love

Cecilia in the cat bed, January 2009, 13 months old
William in the dog bed, March 2007, ~13 months old

I've been thinking a lot about Melissa and Brant and William. Brant was diagnosed a couple weeks ago with stage 4 cancer, and he has already started chemotherapy. It's hard not to think about him, worry for him and his family, pray for him. He started a website so we can keep up with his progress without calling 50 times a week, and so that he doesn't have to retell the same story 250 times a week. He could use some good vibes sent out to him in the Bay Area.

I find these pictures so interesting because they are so similar. The first one John took just a few days ago and the second one I took almost 2 years ago, but the idea is the same. I remember when I was out there visiting Melissa shared with me that she was tired of William grunting at her and pointing at stuff, and would be happy when he could say a few words. That's exactly how I feel on an everyday basis. I'm ready for her to talk a tiny bit. I'm also ready for her to eat more things than just cheddar cheese and grapes. O.k., there's a few other foods in there, but most things she hates. I try to offer her new foods at almost every meal; apples, pears, baked potato, green beans. She's not going for it. I keep telling myself this is a phase and someday sometime somewhere along the way she's going to eat something different, and maybe years from now she'll eat all sorts of goodies. I believe this to be true. Don't you dare tell me some kids are just picky eaters and she may never like very many foods. I won't hear of it.

7 Years

Today marks the 7th anniversary of the day my mom left us. She was really good at being feminine, and tried very hard to help me be a little less tom boy and a little more girly. I know she would be excited about the prospect of me having a girl. I can still remember the outfit Abbey came home in. It was pink and ruffly and lacey and if that dress didn't scream "mom picked this out" I don't know what dress would. She bought Hannah a similar dress when she was about 1. So, I bought this dress in honor of my mom, or rather, as a gift from my mom to the baby. It's red velvet, and this is the dress she will wear when she comes home from the hospital. It's probably not as fancy as mom would like, but I'm doing my best over here.

Old Friends

My dad, and his wife, Lesa, are remodeling my dad's old farm house. It's not even going to look like the same house when they are finished. I know our family has outgrown the house, as far as holidays go, all 20 or so of us crammed around one Christmas tree, wrapping paper flying and piling so high I can't see my sister across the room. And I know the house needed updating, but it's hard to see all my mom's decorating ideas torn down, thrown away and/or burned. All the curtains she sewed, the wallpaper we hung, gone. To be honest, it breaks my heart.

Anyway, the real reason for this post is to tell you how excited I am to be reunited with my old friends, Glory and baby Glory. They have been up in the attic for way too long. I loved My Little Ponies as a little girl. I probably played with them longer than I should have. I can remember Sara and I writing a play in 5th grade and trying to get all our classmates to crawl around on their hands and knees and pretend to be Ponies for the play. Needless to say, our class never performed that play. I think 5th grade was a little too late for My Little Ponies. I can also remember a night when mom and dad were gone and Matt was supposed to babysit Sara and I and he invited friends over to drink beer and watch Animal House and Sara and I rented the My Little Pony movie. He didn't let us watch Animal House, but they stacked their empty beer cans high on the coffee table and Sara and I spent the rest of the night throwing superballs at the beer can pyramids.

The My Little Ponies are different now, none of the same ones we had are for sale anymore, except on ebay. My baby Glory still has her diaper on and her little necklace says B-A-B-Y in block letters, and Glory has some very (sad) 80's neon orange and yellow outfit with a tie and mesh accents. Used to spend hours brushing their tail and playing with the Dream Castle, and the Baby Bonnet School of Dance.

Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose. ~From the television show The Wonder Years

Happy Birthday Mom

Today is my mom's birthday. This is her and I in Las Vegas over Valentine's Day/President's weekend 1999. Mom flew in to Fresno, and we drove to Las Vegas for the weekend. It was a good trip.

"Are you looking down upon me?

Are you proud of who I am?

There's nothing I wouldn't do

To have just one more chance

To look into your eyes

and see you looking back "

-Christina Aguilera-Hurt

Last Year

Two Years Ago

Bribery was a parental tactic my mom used well.



I miss her handwriting.


Last Year
Two Years Ago
Two Years Ago Picture
Even More From Two Years Ago
I had a lot to say on January 18, 2005!

I rode the bus to school for 13 years. I lived further away from my high school than anyone else who attended. I one time calculated that I had spent something like 2/3 of a year on the bus. I was one of the few girls on the bus, and the boys on the bus gave me quite an education, from teaching me how to give the finger in second grade, to explaining to me what a scrotum was in sixth grade, to teaching me how to play pitch in high school. The guys on my bus were less than cool. They were grungy before grunge was cool. But they were funny, and entertaining, and hey, I was with them for two hours a day. I haven't thought about those guys for a long time until I saw this snack truck the other day. One of the guys, Pete, had moved from Montana, and he was into horses. He smelled like fried chicken. His real first name was Darwin. His last name was...Steinmetz. Wonder what those boys are up to now?

You used to captivate me by your resonating light

I lost a dear friend, Diana. She was my classmate, my teacher, my mentor, but most of all, my friend. Diana was one of the strongest women I knew. She embodied the very meaning of what a strong caring woman is. I met her in the fall of 1997 on the campus at Fresno State. She was in my wine analysis class. She had worked in the industry many years, at wineries like Beaulieu Vineyard and Chalk Hill just to name a few and she owned property and grapes in Sonoma. She had gotten her degree in something other than enology when she was young, worked in the wine industry, got a divorce, and came back to school to get her official degree. She was beautiful, knowledgeable and so very nice. She took some classes alongside of us, and was asked to teach other classes, like Wine Tasting. It was in this class that she pulled me aside, told me she thought I had an excellent palate, and asked me if I wanted to learn to be a wine judge. I was and still am forever grateful, and honored. In 1999, and 2000 I was a wine judge in training at the New World International Wine Competition and in 2001 I graduated to official judge. After I graduated, I saw Diana twice a year, which was more than I saw anybody else from Fresno State, once at the wine judging and once at the Midwest Grape and Wine Conference. She worked for Scott Labs and did seminars and sold products all over America. She always had the scoop on where our old classmates were working; people seem to move around a lot in the wine industry in California. This year, 2006, neither one of us could go to the wine judging. I had Natalie's wedding and she had been diagnosed with leukemia. I talked to her a couple more times throughout the year. She was one of the most energetic people around, always talking a mile a minute, always going somewhere doing something. She refused to let the leukemia slow her down, although I had a bad feeling it was much worse than she was telling me. We both made a pack that we would see each other next February at the wine judging, because we were both sad we missed it this year, and missed each other's company. I haven't talked to her in a couple months, but saw she was quoted in this blog, just a couple weeks ago and I sent her a little email congratulating her on the article, and just a general checking-in-with-a-friend type email. I never heard back from her.

Although it isn't February, and it's not time for Diana and I to visit, I miss her deeply and my heart is heavy. She had this little quirk of putting on her lipstick a hundred times a day. She was classy and unique, introducing me to bitters, and she was always in my corner, and I in hers. Her light shined brighter than most, and in this instance it does seem like only the good die young. She was my friend when I didn't have that many friends, and she opened my door to an opportunity I will never take for granted. The last time I did see her, we had a really great visit. John, Ron and I stayed the night with her in her Bodega Bay house on the ocean in the summer of 2004. We had dinner with a bunch of my old classmates, a reunion of sorts, and then headed back to Diana's house to talk the night away, and drink more wine, of course. She was up and out of the house before we were the next day, always so busy and on the go.

I am sad to lose such a positive influence in my life.

Diana and I in King's Canyon in the fall of 1997.

Thanksgiving

I can remember being in my very early teens, 13, 14, 15 maybe, and we went around the table at Thanksgiving dinner and said what we were most thankful for. Although we don't do this every year, we do it fairly often. My cousins, Heather and Natalie were at the farm, and I remember Heather saying she was most thankful that "she knew who she was" or something to that extent. I met that statement with bewilderment and awe. My first thought was, "I'm supposed to be figuring out what?" followed by "God, she's so cool." From here on out I have wanted to say that I am most thankful for knowing who I am, but I never did, because I thought people would remember her saying that. It is etched in my memory so vividly. Plus, I think I didn't know who I was until recently, and honestly I think I am still figuring it out. Maybe I should say that I have always known who I am, I am just now becoming comfortable with that person.

I have a new persceptive on life, through some self confident eyes. Not that type of 17-year-old-you-can't-tell-me-what-to-do-I-rock-and-you're-an-idiot self confidence either. It's more of a genuine understanding of myself, and loving myself type of self confidence. Don't get me wrong, there are moments when I feel totally stupid, and like I can do nothing right (those moments generally happen around dad) but overall I feel like I have a stance on issues, big or small. John will sometimes kid around and answer a question with a bold answer like, "That's because I'm the best teacher around" and it doesn't come off as conceited, it comes off as funny, but he won't laugh, and I love it.

I think moms have to have the most self confidence of anyone. The other day in the grocery store, this teenage girl was cold, so she put on her mom's coat, but exclaimed the coat was "so ugly." And the daughter laughed, and I gave a smile, and the mom just kept shopping.

I miss Heather and Natalie. When we were kids, we would play Barbies or school or air hockey until we fell asleep with exhaustion. When we were teenagers we talked and talked and had the best conversations ever. A good 15 years later, and I am still contemplating the same discussion. I think it's important to have someone ask you questions that you don't know how to answer. It's good to have someone to ponder life with. So, today I am most thankful for my husband (he's brilliant and ever so patient with me) my family (my favorite part of the day was when Abbey thought the word "chrysanthemum" read "crystal meth") and for people in my life who keep me thinking and for the tiny part of me that actually might be comfortable with myself.

Mr. Hill, one of my high school teachers, used to call me a gourdhead.

One last old picture... This is my cousin, Natalie, then me, then my other cousin, Heather, circa 1995. We are standing on top of the hill at the farm at dusk, probably taken at either Thanksgiving or Christmas. These girls are so dear to my heart, we have so much fun together. I could not ask for better cousins.

This is a picture of my mom's dad, Bill. I like this photograph because it has wrinkles in it. I also like it because it looks like he's getting ready to tell you to do something. I remember my Grandpa Bill being very stern, and militant, and always telling someone what to do, so, in my mind, this picture captures his essence.

If you're not watching

Dancing With The Stars, you are missing out. I think it's my favorite tv show right now. I could watch Emmit Smith do the waltz in a tux, and Mario Lopez dance the Tango all night long. I like the fact that they dance to pop songs. John doesn't like this aspect, but I kind of like the idea of dancing the cha cha to Michael Jackson's "Bad."

While we were in Germany, we realized that all the Germans ballroom dance. At the wedding, some of the guests gave the bride and groom presents that they had to work for. For example, someone gave Susanne and Dietmar a bowl of blue jello in a beach scene, with little beach chairs and beach balls, and stuck in the jello was a 50 euro bill. One of the games we played that had to do with a present included ballroom dancing. Random guests were given keys, some for girls and some for guys. I took a key, not knowing the game. John and Ron took keys also. Then Susanne and Dietmar had to ask guests to dance, dance a few jigs, and then ask for a key. Then they took the key and tried to open a box that held money. It was mayhem. Susanne and Dietmar politely acted like they wanted to dance with their partner, waiting a small amount of time and then rushing to the box to use their new key, and then the whole room laughed when the key didn't work. Once I learned I was going to have to ballroom dance to participate, I gave my key to Susanne's sister in law, Heike. She ended up having the right key to open the box. It was a lot of fun, but kind of sad to watch all the Germans dance on the dance floor and not be able to participate. Susanne parents, young and old alike all out there doing the foxtrot or whatever. The band they hired tried to play a few America songs for us, and the only one I can remember was Rocky Mountain High. We did what they expected and got out on the floor and tried to dance. The young Germans tried to free style dance, and they kept looking at us, and we were trying (I don't know what Ron and John were doing) to look like we knew how to dance to Rocky Mountain High. Should have videotaped that.

I think my mom would have liked Dancing With The Stars. She loved all the old musicals, and we watched a lot of Solid Gold together. Good times.

6 Years Plus 1 Day

Lest you think I forgot, yesterday was the anniversary of my mom's passing. The picture I posted is from the last Muny Band concert in July 2000, about 3 months before she left us. She was our guest conductor, and she had a ball. She wore these big earrings she bought for me years before because she thought they looked like treble clefs. She really did love life.

Although I know I can function without her, I still miss her.

This is a tree I pass often, and I like it because it looks like a tree that belongs in California. I think it's some sort of pine. I picture it close to the coast, maybe near Bodega Bay, close to Sonoma. Just over the hill could be the ocean. (in reality it's a corn field)