Christmas Cookies

I always imagined that we'd be old and gray baking cookies for our kids, grandkids, and great grandkids together.  I imagined that we would be making about twenty gingerbread houses by the time you were at the end of your life.  I never imagined that last year would be the last time you would ever make a gingerbread house or bake cookies.  It is hard thinking about what would have been, should have been and could have been. 

I NEVER imagined that last Christmas was your last Christmas.  It is really hard thinking about what we would have been doing right now had you not been gone.  We would probably be on our third weekend in a row of making cookies.  We made such a good team.  We had a great little system down on baking cookies.  These are going to be the little things that make my heart ache.

I Miss You

Is it bad that even when I come to blog to you I get sad?  I created this as an outlet of my sadness, but even my outlet makes me sad.  I miss you so much, and I need you so much right now.  Is this really my new reality?

I Laughed So Hard...

...that I cried.  I don't think I've done that since you've been gone.  I was watching a new Tim Allen TV show and I know it couldn't have been THAT funny, but I just couldn't stop laughing.  Anytime I laugh that hard, I will always think of you.  We sure did know how to laugh.

Your Favorite Holiday Has Come and Gone

Thanksgiving was not as bad as I thought it would be, but I so wish you could have been here to at the very least enjoy the day with us.  When I saw enjoy the day, I really mean try to enjoy it the best we could without you.  Dad and I started a little after 8:00 am on Thanksgiving morning and made pumpkin cake with cream cheese icing first!  Dad threw in the ham, then we were on a roll.  We got the baked macaroni and cheese (your baked macaroni and cheese) and green bean casserole in a little later. 

I think you would've been proud.  I knew that Dad and I would probably be the ones cooking Thanksgiving dinner this year, but I had thought at the very least you would be in the family room smelling in the goodness waiting for it to be done.  I never thought in a million years that last Thanksgiving was going to be your last, just like all the other birthdays and holidays from the end of last year to October of this year.  I miss you so much everyday and I constantly wonder if I would be disappointing you or making you proud with every action I take.  That's something I did not anticipate. 

Cadence's Birthday Party

I need to call you so badly; I need to know what I'm supposed to do about Cadence's birthday party.  It makes me think to her birthday party last year.  I had no idea it would be the last one you would be attending.  We got so lucky with the weather; it was beautiful outside!  We ordered WAY too much pizza, but like you said, its better to have too much than not enough. 

When I look at pictures from that day, you look so proud and happy watching Cadence play with her friends.  I would do anything to see that on your face this year.  It's so ironic because I kept pushing Cadence's party off further and further because I was hoping you'd be feeling better.  Now, I just feel such a lack of "needing" to do anything.  I know I have to for Cadence, but it just doesn't feel the same planning it this year as it did last year.  I don't think any events in my life will feel the same again.

I Actually Got Something Done...

...without calling you!  Obviously, I haven't been able to call you for a little while now, but there were definitely days that I couldn't do anything because of the need and want to call you was so strong.  I don't know if this is a good thing or if its just a break from my sadness, but it felt good.  I love you, Mom.  Thank you for making me a strong person.

One Month Ago...Today...

At 2:55 am this morning, it was one month ago that I watched you take your last breath.  It was one month ago today that I watched my best friend, my mom, my dad's soul mate, and my daughter's Memaw leave this world.  I can't stop thinking of that early morning and how it changed my life forever.  I wonder if every 20th of every month, if every Thursday of every week and if every 2:55 am of every morning will make me feel this way. 

I Haven't Cried Today...So Far!

I can't believe it, but I  haven't cried today, Mom!  I am seriously dreading the day that all the emotions well back up because I know they will, but today I feel good.  I don't feel good that you're still gone, but I feel like I'm functioning and actually feeling happy about other things in my life. 

Corbin is such a good baby and I know you would be shaking your head at me telling me how lucky I was.  He's just so sweet and content.  Sometimes when I look in his eyes, I swear I see you.  You would be so impressed at how well Cadence has adjusted to a little brother.  She just loves him to pieces and hasn't even questioned why he wasn't a sister. 

Julie called me the other night and wanted to know if I was going to Thanksgiving this year at your side of the family.  I'm not going, but not just to yours.  We've decided to stay home this year for Thanksgiving, except for going to yours and Dad's house.  For one, Thanksgiving makes me think of you and Corbin is just too little to be traveling all over for people to pass him around like a sack of potatoes.  I don't want Julie to think that I'm just never coming to the Lohrstorfer functions again because I have every intention of coming to Christmas.  I just think this holiday is too close to my heart and too soon since you've been gone. 

Corbin's First Visit

I took Corbin to see your grave site yesterday for the first time.  He had his first well check up, which went great, so we thought we would stop on the way home to see you.  I told you that I didn't even know if you could hear me or if I was talking to the dirt, but I gave you the rundown on Corbin's big surprise to us all.  Is it crazy that I actually talk out loud to you?  You seemed to handle your parents' deaths so well, and I feel like a basket case.  What did you do differently?  I don't want to stop thinking about you and I definitely don't want Cadence to stop asking about you, but it hurts every time I do and every time she does. 

Even typing this out gives me an ache in my heart that I have to suppress before it takes me over.  I've gone back and forth on whether or not I should call my doctor and tell them I don't know if my pain is "normal" or if its taking too much control over me.  I know if you were here you would tell me to deal with it, but sometimes I feel like I just can't. 

My New Therapy

I think I've said before that I couldn't believe how many times I would call you and really for absolutely no reason.  The sound of your voice always seemed to calm me and I could tackle whatever was stressing me out.  I didn't realize this until Corbin was here and I had a TON of girl stuff to put away and a TON of boy stuff to replace it with.  My house was filled with bags and bags of new and hand-me-down boys clothes and you know how I am.  I was stressed to the max from the clutter in the house.  Every time I went to work on the clutter, I would just break down and cry because I needed to call you and hear your voice to get my stress to go away.

You know Dad and I have always been close, too, but I never called him like I called you.  It seemed when you got sick, we became even closer because of our joint efforts in trying to get you better.  I still feel guilty about coming over and sitting in the kitchen talking with Dad about you when you were just in the other room sleeping.  All we talked about (more like cried about) was just hoping and wishing that we could buy more time with you. 

This morning I started to get that feeling again; it started to come over me like a wave and I could feel myself start down my depressed path, but I grabbed the phone and called Dad.  It was nice because we didn't really talk about anything in particular and neither of us cried or told each other how much we wish you were still here (that's pretty much an unspoken truth amongst us all...we will always wish you were still here).  It was just us talking, and when I hung up the phone that wave was gone.  Thank you for choosing him for my Dad.

I Was Determined Not to Cry Today

...and then I bawled my eyes out when I woke up.  I can't shake this feeling of needing to talk to you just to hear your voice.  Dad and Kyle came over for dinner last night, and it felt so good to have them at our house.  Lately, we've spent a lot of time at yours and Dad's house just hanging out.  When I look at Dad, I can see the sadness all over his face.  You told us that we would be fine, but I'm not fine, Dad's not fine, Justin and Kyle aren't fine. 

I would do anything to hear your voice again. 

Mourning the Future

I am so scared of what the first holidays will bring, what the first birthdays will bring, and most importantly all of the firsts that you will miss out on with Corbin.  Not only is this the first Thanksgiving and Christmas that you are not here, but it is also Corbin's firsts for these holidays that you will not be here for.  My heart ached so bad when I typed that.  I just keep thinking what if you could have made it to see Corbin being born, made it to enjoy your favorite holiday, made it to enjoy your 47th birthday.  Would it hurt any less?  Probably not. 

I was reading some information about the grieving process, and one of the things it mentioned was that you don't' only grieve the person being gone from your life but also gone from your future.  It warned that there may be events in the near, not too distant, and even distant future that you will have to grieve again when that time comes because you also grieve over those special moments in your life they would have been present for. 

I know for sure one of those times for me is having Corbin.  I don't think I have cried so hard in a long time than I did the two days after I got home from the hospital.  I could barely even do a simple task without getting stressed out and wanting to call and talk to you about it.  I feel like I'm starting to hurt a little less but I am terrified for the next time it happens. 

The Things I've Needed to Talk to You About

After you were gone, I immediately thought I needed to ask you what you told me when your parents had died.  I had no idea how to explain to Cadence that she would never see her Memaw again; it still breaks my heart every time I think about the last time she got to see you.  She still asks about you almost everyday, and we always tell her that you are in heaven.  I don't know if heaven even exists, but I figured it would be an easier way for her to understand.  I can't bring myself to say the "D" word to her.  She sees me crying every day, and I know she doesn't understand why.  I just tell her its because I miss her Memaw so much. 

You and I never had a sappy relationship, but we are the best of friends.  I have already needed to pick up the phone so many times to ask you the silliest of questions or to run a thought or opinion by you before I committed to it.  I never realized that every time I got stressed out I called you; I realized this when I could barely even straighten up my house without bursting into tears.  The past few weeks I have actually coped pretty well with everything, but now I feel like its all come to a head. 

Last week I started having contractions and kept begging that baby to come out, and I know you would have told me that the baby will come when its ready.  Well, that baby did come, and HE is here.  Yes, Mom, I said HE!  He's a boy; I wish you could have seen the look on Dad's face when the doctor turned him over.  I wish I could have seen the look on your face, too.  Little Eleanora will have to wait, so we named him Corbin Jo.  Since he's been here, I can't stop thinking about you.  Everything I do, everything I touch, and everything I look at makes me think of you.

I need to call you and tell you how stressed out I am that I have a ton of girls clothes all jammed in different sections of the house and no room for boys clothes.  I need to tell you that I am stressed about picking out a different crib bedding set, especially since you helped me pick out the first one.  I need to tell you that I miss you.  I need to tell you that I just want to see you in your garden again, cleaning up what summer left behind. 

I know it sounds selfish, but I would rather have you here sick that not here at all.  I know the pain you were in and I know that you wanted it to end, but I would give anything to have you here just a little longer.

The Day You Left

I can't get the day you left out of my mind; it feels like it was just yesterday and many years ago all at the same time.  The night you called us in to the hospital to "make your peace" with everyone so to speak, I had never been so scared and in so in denial in all my life.  I really thought that maybe things would just turn around and the whole 1:00 am phone call would have been a funny joke we would talk about later.

After going around the room and telling everyone what a great life you had, even only after 46 years, you looked at me and said, "You look so disappointed."  I knew what you were saying; you thought I was disappointed in you for ending your fight.  Like I told you then, I'm not disappointed in you; I was just disappointed that you were being taken away from me when I needed you the most.  All that day I stayed at the hospital and watched you get worse and worse, but I still thought that all you needed was just a little sleep and everything would be better.  I had no idea how terribly wrong and naive I was.

I don't even know if I can repeat the things that you said to me without breaking down, but I knew that it wasn't you saying them at that it was the beginning of the end.  Dad had told me to go home that night and get some sleep, and I was up immediately the next morning to come rushing back.  When Dad called telling me to bring Cadence to see you, I can't even explain the emotion that went through my whole body.  I can't get the last time Cadence saw you out of my mind; it makes me so grateful and so sad all at the same time.  The look on Dad's face said it all and still does to this day.  Life without you is and was not the same.

I'll never forget the cold feeling I had in my body when Dad said that there was nothing else they could do; I'll never forget the feeling of moving our and your things into "the other room" down the hall.  I'll never forget the looks on the nurses faces when we passed them in the hall.  This was really our life.  I've never cried so hard the moment that your last moments began.  There were lots of moments in between the start of the end to the end that emotions overwhelmed me, but when you did take your last breath a warmth left the room.  It felt so cold and so lonely, and I had no idea how I was going to handle you being gone. 

I need you here to watch me raise my babies.  I need you here to tell me that everything is fine.  I need you here to tell me that I'm going to be fine.