Sometimes…

Aug15

in the dullest moment of a ridiculously full week is when I miss her the most.

Standing at my kitchen sink doing dishes between outings with friends, patient visits, and text message conversations, it hits me like a gut punch that despite being surrounded in this world by people who love me, doing it all without her here is lonely.

If you asked me what it is like to have lived 1708 days without my Mom I’d probably just stare at you blankly looking for the right words.

But here’s the thing: there are no right words, there is no real answer. I’m still learning, I’m still feeling it, feeling her absence in my core. I feel it in soft ways and hard ways. I feel it when I have a cooking question and when I’m just excited over something. I felt it when my photo got published around the globe and all I wanted was to tell her about it. I feel it in my happy moments and in my sadness.

I feel it when I watch other people with their moms, I feel it at 4 am when something wakes me from a deep sleep and I lay here hearing the quiet.

I feel when I long to introduce her to the new people in my life. I wish for my phone to ring one more time and to hear her voice.

Every day I simply wish for one more day with you. One more sunset…. But I know it would never be enough.

Trophy hunting….

Jul11

It’s always a random but dreary day when the universe reminds me that I enjoy it. It’s charming but always ends up with that moment of all my fucking lives flashing before my eyes.

I was recently asked by someone I’d just met to list my favorite things, my little joys. Of course I had the go to answer about motherhood and family stuff. He said no … like really list the things that make you smile even when you are alone… he asked me to paint him a picture of all the things that make my life better… pumpkins, fresh flowers, autumn colours, double baked hazelnut croissants, being near the water, the golden hour, raccoons, strawberries and pears, good feta, long showers, dewberry body wash, fancy grocery stores, Starbucks, vintage stickers, thrift stores, the way lace feels against my skin, messy top lip kisses, the way the Bellagio spa smells, Christmas lights under snow, lower back touches, McDonald’s diet Coke, the way Bandit’s ears feel, clean bed sheets, the feeling of putting on new socks, chickadees chirping, dewy spider webs, neck kisses, tea with full fat cream and real sugar, hot coffee, cold coffee, friendly squirrels, stolen hoodies, red foxes, the smell of a new book, the unspoken words across a coffee shop table, good pens, bookmarks, amber glass, fancy planners, sourdough bread, forceful hallway kisses, full body hugs, stolen touches, the taste of whiskey in a kiss, opening the windows on a spring day, the way cold water feels on my feet, parking lot hugs, when the Christmas tree is the only source of light, being held in the shower, the way my nervous system settles when I take that left turn in Little Fort, good morning text messages, fresh strawberries in summer, slowly wandering through antique stores, farmers market purchases in a pretty basket, when the fall merchandise starts arriving in stores, when there isn’t a soul in sight, the thrill in escaping.

Being reminded I love all my fucking lives!

Teach them to enjoy the pink sky magic and the regular Tuesdays!

May17

…I know they got plenty of young blood left in ‘em and plenty nights under pink skies you taught ‘em to enjoy…

Pink skies, carnival lights, smiles, smells, laughter, sticky fingers, mini donut fueled chaos, certainty they could beat the rigged game system, lemonade pucker, tired feet, the crowds, the sounds, the memories, the future memories, one more ride, one more game…one more memory.

Knowing you’re experiencing one of those “good ol’ days” as it’s happening is priceless.

Days like this become part of who they are later in life and that’s the whole point.

Someday when they remember this day I know from experience they will ache to experience it all again.

Childhood and parenthood are such a wild parallel experience. My only job yesterday was making their day feel magical. Turn a regular day into something beautiful. My heart is full knowing I succeeded.

it was all yellow…

May9

…Something beautiful…. You know I love you so….

The most perfect, almost moody skies, a melancholy hint rolling in with the waves. The insistence of the breeze. The silent yet deafening reminder that joy is in the ride even when the sun hides.

Sitting here watching Jacob’s childhood happen in real time is beautiful, specifically because it is fleeting, imperfect, and deeply felt everyday. I’m consciously choosing to keep seeing the beauty in all of it while simultaneously carrying grief, hope, memories, and love.

The grief of my parents being gone, the anticipatory grief of knowing how soon Jacob will become too grown up for spontaneous beach days. The grief of my own failures and aging.

The love I have for my family, my friends, my life.

The memories of my life lived thus far.

Reminding myself every day to soak in the ordinary joy, the ordinary miracles. Stand in the waves, eat the fries, exist freely in the moment. Take up space.

The only way to get through any of this is with quiet resilience,
nostalgia, maternal love,
and knowing in my heart that healing doesn’t always look happy…sometimes it just looks like showing up for a beautiful afternoon even if the wind blows or the sky is a little moody.

…Delicious Disappointment…

Apr12

I’ve made peace with the tiny letdowns and decided they still get a seat at the table.

Today I left the house without my phone, my coffee went cold, the mixed color bouquets were gone by the time I got to the stand for subscription pick up. I squished the fancy pastries from the quiet little bakery. The tiny bookstore didn’t have the book I wanted. It rained.

Delicious disappointments my friends!

There’s something kind of grounding about it:
Coffee went cold … still good, just different.

Squished the pastry before I got a photo…. still tasted like sweet perfection.

Plans shift … still a fun day, just not the one I planed and pictured.

Bandit chewed the wrong paw … other one still healing, just… with attitude and a zillion dollars in wound wrap supplies!

This is not denial, it’s not forcing positivity…it’s more like
yeah, that’s not ideal… but I’m still here with it. Sometimes these moments end up being the ones that feel the most real.
Quiet moments like sitting under a blanket, rain outside, Bandit half-asleep on me, scrolling with cold coffee beside me…
Nothing dramatic, nothing perfect just full, real life. The truth is (if we’re being honest) life is a little messy, a little funny, a little soft, a little hard and somehow still really good ☕

I’m just embracing it… the delicious disappointment aesthetic 🌷☕
Tulips I wouldn’t have picked as my first choice that should be in a nice vase… living their best beautiful life in a Starbucks cup.
Rainy windshield, grey sky… but soft light.
Truck interior, a little messy, a little real.
Something pretty just casually existing in the middle of ordinary life. Nothing curated. Nothing trying too hard.

Thats where I’ve settled.

The reality is the tulips aren’t even fully open yet…
they’re just… on their way.
That’s kind of a whole refreshing vibe, isn’t it?
Not perfect.
Not finished.
Not “Pinterest ready.”
But still alive, soft, a little unexpected. quietly lovely

That’s where I’m at. I’m tired of striving for perfection. I’m tired of not embracing and living in the moment. I’ve settled and it’s gloriously freeing.

A small, gentle thing…
sitting in a place that doesn’t match…
and somehow making the whole moment better anyway.

I didn’t fix it or think
“ugh I need a proper vase”
I made a decision that
“this works”… it’s beautiful and it’s enough for now.
And that my friends is the whole philosophy.

Coffee, words and a hazelnut frangiepan croissant…

Mar14

because calorie don’t count when your heart has to wait 7-10 days for a lab report!

Bandit slept well throughout the night. I had to adjust her bandage as it was too tight with the swelling. Once we got that fixed up and her paw circulation returned to good we both dozed off.

My Dad always warned me about tying my wellbeing to an animal (2 or 4 legged). I guess now in my mid 40’s I understand what he meant. But honestly I’m not sorry. I know I’m definitely more feelings driven than many people. I know the heartbreak that comes with loving someone/something so deeply but I also know the joy. I know that no matter how this journey progresses I will never have regrets over bringing this beautiful (anxious, health problematic, bossy,EXPENSIVE) hound into our family. Bandit showed up when I needed her the most and she got me through those excruciatingly long, lonely days when my Dad’s dementia raged the worst. Her soft ears and warm hound squish offered moments of decompression for my exhausted, overwhelmed brain and my broken heart. Shes a living, breathing hound scented weighted blanket!

Sometimes I think Mom and Muffin hand picked her for me. The perfect mix of love and wild anxiety. They sent me a 4 legged version of me! Which is both beautiful and gut wrenchingly horrific!!!

This dog is 1/3 of my whole world. She means everything to me and I want the absolute best for her. I know in my heart that may not end up looking like what I’d planned for but whatever the next page of this journey looks like we will get through it together. Hand in paw! 🐾 💕