Autumn Makes Me Want My Mommy/This Post Will Probably Bring Tears

Okay, I want her everyday, but there's something about Autumn...

This month, our baby turns nine.
This month, the air will begin to turn cool...bringing with it crispy, colorful leaves that will blanket the ground.
This month, we'll plan another big ol' shindig to celebrate the life of our sweet Offspring.
This month, I'm on the edge of another birthday.
This month, I want my Momma.

There have been many moments over the last several days when the tears have just fallen out, regardless of how I tried to hold back.  I accidentally came across an old journal of mine, opened it up and read, "Today is the first Sunday I've gone to church since losing Momma..." SNAP.  I immediately shut it.  We had company coming over, and it was one of those times that either I'd need to dive in and have a good moment, crying my eyeballs out...or put it away for a different time.  For then...it had to wait.

I was thinking about how much our Babylove is obsessed with all things water, fish, Bass Pro, boats, etc.  And then I remembered how precious it was that my Momma always called him her little "Loveboat".  Sigh.
This morning in church, oh my.  One of the sweetest couples we know had their grandchildren with them.  As I watched those two little girls wriggle all over the pew, I absolutely adored their Grandma just looking at them the only way a grandma can.  With that sparkle, that twinkle, that joy, that whatever it is.....that look.  I remember that look.  I remember the way my Momma's beautiful blue eyes would light up at our sweet boy, and my sister's kiddos.  It's a look that's indescribable.


Our church service was nearly ending.  They hand me the plate, hand me the cup.  I give the bread to our sweet little boy.  We partake of this Eucharist together.

I felt the tears come again.  I wasn't sure why.  Why now, why was I about to cry??

I am still not sure.

The Eucharist is such a beautiful, indescribable, wonderful thing to take part in.  The Pastor, My Love, reminds us that it is the one place we always come to, where every single individual is invited....where we leave our differences.  We are united.  Everybody.

In that moment, I'm still not sure why the tears flowed.  Maybe I'm frustrated that I can't put it into words?  I tried to describe it to My Love.  Was it a reminder of the comfort He gives us?  Was it my hormones?  Was it sharing in this with our sweet boy?  Was it how holding his hand reminded me of her holding mine...and how I have her hands?

I write about remembering her.  I write about the importance of grief, how we *need* to talk about it, because some of us have to live with it forever.  And if we don't, we know someone who does.


I am passing on a piece of my Momma, regardless of what I say or do.

I am passing on a piece of my Momma to our firstborn, her second grandson...

I am passing on a piece of her simply because I wear the skin she carried in her very body...

I can't help but echo her, I'm part of her.



Death separates, but it doesn't kill the Love that will always be.


Life will bring so many valleys, and many times they enter in regardless of our choices.  For the life of me, I don't understand why we waste time adding to the scars.  For the life of me, I do not understand why we don't spend more time LOVING.
Call me naive, I don't care.

When the cold chill of death becomes a reality, separation from someone we love so much...I am reminded that every. single. moment. is a GIFT.  The years go so quickly, time can be so brutal, and memories of our loved ones can haunt us in a way that causes tears to flow, regardless of whether we want them to, or not.

LOVE one another.
That is the one thing I'm quite sure won't cause regret.

*Go ahead, get'yer tissue now.  : )