Rambling.

It has been nine days. Has it only been nine days? It feels like a lifetime ago that I got that phone call and rushed to the hospital. When I remind myself that it wasn't even two weeks ago, the hurt is fresh all over again. 

Two weeks ago I was calling her on my way to work like I always do. Two weeks ago I probably called her several times as I often did and my dad and Joe always made fun of me. I don't care. I have no regrets when it comes to my relationship with my mom. Yes we argued, yes we got on each other's nerves. But we were friends. We had reached a really happy and cherished moment in our relationship where we were friends. I know she loved me, and I know she knows I love her. There is nothing I wish I had said, nothing I wish I had apologized for. Because I said it, I apologized for it, I never went to bed without fixing things with her. I am so thankful for that blessing of a relationship. People have their moms for decades and decades and never reach that point. I only had her for 26 short short years and I am so proud of the relationship I had with her.

Now that the blur of events surrounding her death is over, I find myself feeling a lot of different things. I suppose that has been true all along though. Now I want to get out of my house so I'm not sitting around thinking all day, but then I see all these girls with their moms and I never want to leave my house again. I am angry sometimes, because why aren't people writing on her wall everyday? Why aren't more people mourning this wonderful person who died? Why are people going back to work and moving on with their lives? Don't they know my mom died? Don't they get how huge this hole is in my life? It should be this big in everyone's life. Everyone should feel this tremendous loss. 

I am selfish, I know that. I keep thinking how my kids have been cheated out of a relationship with her, but mostly I am the one feeling cheated. I want her here. I want her to be there when my other kids are born. I want to call her to ask her how long to heat something up or if a rash Bella has is normal. I want to go to her house in the winter time and make fun of her for sitting so close to the fire or for being covered in several blankets. She is so cold-natured. I want to go get a pedicure with her. I want to go walking with her. I want to take the kids to her house. I want I want I want. Mostly I want to hug her and hear her voice. I have been at my parents' house a lot lately and I find myself just standing in the kitchen, closing my eyes, pretending she is next to me. It feels so real I can almost feel her there. I just want to talk to her. I just want to get to say goodbye. The last thing we talked about was the new pair of glasses I just bought. It's not good enough. It's not a good enough last conversation to have with such a woman. Not with my mother.

I want her to be proud of me. I am more motivated than ever to finish school now. I want her to think I'm a good mom. I want to raise my kids to love Jesus the way she does. I have been thrust into his arms and there is no where else I could imagine being. No one else can heal me like he can. Thank you God for Jesus, who brings restoration and makes all things new.

This is not put together well, I'm sure. But like always, I just needed to write it.