9 months

9 months....it's the duration of a school year, the typical amount of time that a woman is pregnant (ha--unless you're me pregnant with Sydney Helget!). When I think of a school year I think of the classes I have had in the past and how much the kids change from August to May--they get taller, their faces thinner, they've outgrown a lot of their "back to school" clothes and maybe even shoes. Since we just had a baby recently "9 months" conjures up the time between finding out that we had a new addition on the way...watching my belly grow, and grow, and grow, and grow some more...to the day that Gavin entered the world. So many things can take place in 9 months, so many changes. Today is no different...today marks 9 months that we have been without our mom. I don't write about her often, but believe me, she is never ever far from my mind.

I remember the day so vividly and clearly that I cannot help but think of what we were doing after looking at the time or to, unfortunately, relive every moment of the rest of the day and the few days following. It is still incredibly surreal and only recently did I realize, or rather tell myself...that for the remainder of my life I will not physically, see my mother. That was a pretty tough realization to come to! Some days it just feels like she's on vacation or I just haven't spoken with her but more and more recently the finality and reality is settling in. It is a good thing because I can't deny the truth of our situation and by facing the truth maybe I can continue on this journey of grief in a healthy way, but at the same time it's a very sad and upsetting truth.

I am finding that things that once brought back sad memories, make me happy now. Using one of her bags, wearing some of the jewelry she bought for me, writing about everything in a journal, or most recently, passing along outfits that she bought Sydney to our dear friends' little girl Lily. (I can see Tiffany now as she reads this...just hang on friend! :) ) As I was sorting through Sydney's clothes trying to find the appropriate fall/winter clothes in the right size to pass to Tiffany for Lily to use, I was continually coming across outfits that my mom had given. (You would think I never shopped for her myself! Most of the clothes were from Aunt Bailey or Mom (and Dad of course, but I'd be a fool if I didn't think that Mom did the bulk of the clothes shopping for Sydney)). Several times while sorting through the 12M clothes, I would set "those" clothes aside....for no apparent reason other than my own selfish-ness and wanting to keep them all to myself. (Trust me, my friend Tiffany is a self-proclaimed perfectionist and these clothes would have been returned in fabulous condition.) It was just my own hang-up on the idea of passing them along to someone else. However, mid-way through the stack, I thought to myself "what would Mom want me to do?" and of course she would want Lily to wear these! It would only make sense...it was if Mom were talking to me herself saying "Randi, stop being silly!" What a comfort. :) So, as I said, there are some things that are gradually, very very gradually becoming a little "easier" if that is even the word.

Having gone through something like this--well, while going through something like this, I have learned all too well that each and every person grieves their own way, at their own pace. And certain things that comfort one, may not comfort another. Luckily my sister and I are very much at the same place, BUT there are things she can do that bring her comfort that I just can't bring myself to do just yet (i.e. watching family videos--they make her laugh, I think they'd make me cry). Guess what? It's okay. We just cannot try to impose our ways of comfort on someone because...guess what? It may not work for them, plain and simple. We can only respect each other's way of grieving, love one another, and be patient with one another. As for me, I can only hope that the "comforts" I find are what's best for me and my family as we journey together.

So here's my memory of Mom...or rather, one of Mom's gadgets. Curious yet? This is just the first thing that came to my mind. (and honestly, how do you pick just one memory of someone you have spent your entire life with? They are in almost everything you do.) We have high ceilings in our living room, much like the living room in our childhood home. At the very top of those ceilings is a ceiling fan. I happened to notice the other day just how utterly filthy the fan blades are (oh great, now everyone who comes to our house who have read this will notice too!) and I remember this little gadget my mom had. It was a broomstick and at the end was this yarn doll. The skirt was a bundle of strands of yarn that she would reach all the way up to the ceiling fan to dust off the blades. Pretty nifty!

Anyway, when I sat down to type this I didn't think I had words...ha! Thanks for reading if you got this far and thanks for remembering my mom with me.