tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88756149336926572942024-03-12T16:51:31.480-07:00The Grief ChroniclesOne mom, wife, and daughter's struggle with losing her mother and grandmothergingerssnapshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12754274779403650715noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8875614933692657294.post-11808814180879083872015-10-02T19:59:00.001-07:002015-10-02T20:01:17.686-07:00There Is A Storm Coming<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRBvaIC7346r4Jt4rTTbfgsr4FVZyzXaRa34dp19kayH2ZxBX9pfKSrrQUiwVSwYpa5RwLhZ5MqcaE3O-uJQ56SIi4s5XNOo9okeKo_TRpe2CXIMYcs9xp38k_pLS2X2hSkuWVRzbAQfM/s640/blogger-image--1886565565.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRBvaIC7346r4Jt4rTTbfgsr4FVZyzXaRa34dp19kayH2ZxBX9pfKSrrQUiwVSwYpa5RwLhZ5MqcaE3O-uJQ56SIi4s5XNOo9okeKo_TRpe2CXIMYcs9xp38k_pLS2X2hSkuWVRzbAQfM/s640/blogger-image--1886565565.jpg"></font></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">It's almost your birthday again Momma. October was always your month. The weather has changed from summer and there is a chill in the air, and in my heart. There is a storm coming. One that I cannot fend off alone.<br><br></span><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">As I go through the motions of eating, I cannot enjoy my dinner this night. In the wake of the taste of grief, everything tastes bland and lifeless. I close my eyes to try to savor the sweetness. It is no use. Everything is bitter. I feign happiness for my sweet, innocent daughter. But there is no happiness for these tired eyes on this night.<br><br>There will be no calling her grandmother to brag on her latest achievement at school, nor any inviting to tomorrow's soccer game. There will be no laughing at horrible school picture faces or the resounding cacophony of my child's voice bouncing off of the walls of Granny's house. Your home is no longer. It remains, but is falling into disrepair much like the unkempt weeds that grow across your gravestone, both too long unvisited. The house and your grave both hold hollow echoes of you and a cherished time gone by.<br><br>A time that held the greatest love of all, as the late Whitney Houston sang. A love I will cherish all of my days and one that I could never forget. A heartbreak that my heart cannot ever truly begin to heal. A loss so tragic that somedays, on the raw days, my mind still cannot begin to fully comprehend.<br><br>But comprehend I do. I have no choice. The chill sweeps outward from inside. A cold, suffocating wave envelops me as the tears run unchecked down my face. The realization has set in that my memories are all that I have. There will never be any shiny new ones. This is the fourth year that I have replayed the same worn memories over and again in my head. There will never be any more memories than what I have at this exact moment. I am heartbroken. Yet I have a lifetime full of memories, but it is not enough. It is never enough. I want more. I want more of you. But there is no you anymore, only what I carry in my heart and my mind.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzPC8-1qDvrk-da8UDAt0CgOD5ie60QdgOkkSMjT-8pWVVCIgZa4R0nRdxMLbUn-mVg0x9bSgGIASvKuFMEbmUGDSSNS-eYnZMDMZQzQ0PWUs1bu18QeRmYFqNU6laKJsP15K_RISeBVY/s640/blogger-image--51841615.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzPC8-1qDvrk-da8UDAt0CgOD5ie60QdgOkkSMjT-8pWVVCIgZa4R0nRdxMLbUn-mVg0x9bSgGIASvKuFMEbmUGDSSNS-eYnZMDMZQzQ0PWUs1bu18QeRmYFqNU6laKJsP15K_RISeBVY/s640/blogger-image--51841615.jpg"></font></a></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br>I close my eyes and remember. One at a time I take out my cherished memories and replay them in my mind's eye. Mommy and Daddy kissing, the last hug on our visit before your final hospital stay, you imploring me to never let my three year old, now seven, forget you. Birthday shopping with you that last year to bring you into the technological age, and your birth date on a sticker from our last ever shopping trip on my computer tablet, a mere six weeks before your journey was at it's end. Precariously sealed in time with scotch tape, my attempt at preservation. Preservation of the proof of a precious memory. Something physical from that last birthday with you. Something that marks a specific moment in time and says that she was here. You were here together. You were with me this day.<br><br></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEwbLW9YwwPuq3ONsfYLh3yQwVVzgZ8NQzH4uCExQ9nlibT_lIAEgeMZR0cWmrmyr9j1-mTHv-hIYKhzY8U-KjUxzzBS6uQVXs4ZYmPJCX6FEtLZcIdJ1Doc55G_YgBt5HN7lRwrcSLhw/s640/blogger-image-1816134012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEwbLW9YwwPuq3ONsfYLh3yQwVVzgZ8NQzH4uCExQ9nlibT_lIAEgeMZR0cWmrmyr9j1-mTHv-hIYKhzY8U-KjUxzzBS6uQVXs4ZYmPJCX6FEtLZcIdJ1Doc55G_YgBt5HN7lRwrcSLhw/s640/blogger-image-1816134012.jpg"></font></a></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br>On a day that I long to hear your voice, I close my eyes and try to replay it in my head. Only this time, I cannot recall your voice immediately. My eyes fly open, my breathing becomes labored, and I start to panic. The tears fall unabashedly down my face, as I try to remember your laughter, and I cannot. Time stands still. I can hear my heartbeat in my throat, as I desperately play memory after memory in my head. I can almost hear your voice. But I cannot find your laughter. It is on the edge of my remembering, just out of my grasp. No, no, no my inner voice screams, you cannot have lost her laughter. It's in there, just remember. We have to find the laughter! I cannot lose another piece of her. I am hysterical on the inside as my grief ridden brain desperately searches for the laughter, her laughter. My mother's laughter.<br><br>The emotional storm rages as I desperately search my mental archives for the laughter. I find it, and as I replay the memory in my mind, there is no sound. It is as if the sound has altogether been stripped from my memory. I continuously wipe the tears from my eyes and face in an attempt to keep my daughter from seeing the storm raging within me, that is leaking out of my eyes.<br><br>Another piece of her lost today as another little piece of me died. I have lost my mother's laughter. "It was all you had of her, how could you lose it!", my mind screams at me. "But it's been so long since I have heard it..."another piece cries. I am so very weary. So tired of all of the grief. So tired of the maelstrom of swirling emotions. Grief, guilt, loss, sadness, depression, exhaustion, bravery, strength, selfishness, and loneliness. Tired of feigning excuses tonight for the little one so as not to have to explain myself, and stir up her grief as well as my own. Trying to control this storm that always rages within me just below the surface, threatening to break free. <br><br><br>There is always something constantly reminding me of you; a familiar smell, a rainbow or a butterfly, or your favorite colors. Eating dinner on your favorite color purple plate, just to feel closer to you when I feel the storm coming.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7kyI1kYdH4uuK887ssVjUI1rDPvaIG4fMTAThX0RmioEviWNpwkUjjnQlKo0LNdt9cyeKJRmFzlOPqktEczeCGQzjdUHZ9SNk4F97_WsprkMjZ9H2alQDUe8tc0bMD5AjzmJ6UqH5oOc/s640/blogger-image-979959217.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7kyI1kYdH4uuK887ssVjUI1rDPvaIG4fMTAThX0RmioEviWNpwkUjjnQlKo0LNdt9cyeKJRmFzlOPqktEczeCGQzjdUHZ9SNk4F97_WsprkMjZ9H2alQDUe8tc0bMD5AjzmJ6UqH5oOc/s640/blogger-image-979959217.jpg"></font></a></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br><br>I miss you Momma. Just like storms that reach their shore, they rage awhile and then they are no more, so is my grief. At least kept at bay for a little while.<br><br>Good night Momma, I love you!<br><br> -Your cherished daughter</span><br></div>gingerssnapshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12754274779403650715noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8875614933692657294.post-53239435233702953272015-05-25T09:17:00.003-07:002015-05-25T09:17:55.523-07:00After<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I am constantly amazed by the amazingly strong, resilient wise old soul that is my child. My grandmother, Betty Bell Carnes, passed from this life this morning <span class="text_exposed_hide">...</span><span class="text_exposed_show">at 9am. We spent the day with her in Charlotte yesterday. She waited for us to get there. I firmly believe that. I watched my child overcome her fear and minister to my Nana as if she were a 45 year old with a degree from seminary. She did not shed one tear. She has the gift. I see such strength and faith in my child. It rocks me to my core. Like I said she amazes me. She has inherited our heart and the gift of ministering to others. My Nana was a second mother to me. Nothing could have completed her journey in this life more appropriately, than having the last child that she helped raise, Hayden, tell her it was time to go to meet Jesus, that we all had each other, and it was okay. She told her to tell Granny hi and give her a big hug from us! I dreaded telling her on the drive home! So when we got home, I pulled her into my lap, and told her when previously in the day, she told me it was the best day ever? That it was for Nana, because she got to meet Jesus today! She started clapping in joy! She said how happy she was that Nana got to meet Jesus! Aaaaand we had a dance party to celebrate Nana meeting Jesus! With pink confetti! I will post service details once we know the details! Nana had a moment of clarity and woke up long enough to tell me, and I quote, " I love you, Goodbye! Tell everybody up there I love them, and don't you cry!"</span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show">***written on 03-22-15***</span></div>
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<br />gingerssnapshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12754274779403650715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8875614933692657294.post-82487304507204722202015-05-25T09:08:00.002-07:002015-05-25T09:19:16.305-07:00My Nana's Hands<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sorry I have mostly been MIA this weekend... I have had important business to attend to.... My Nana started in-home hospice this week. We made an impromptu 5 ho<span class="text_exposed_show">ur trip to Charlotte, NC. She is my mother's mother. She is the last grandparent I have still living. So in her honor, her ornery, spunky, spitfire of a little lady honor, I am sharing this picture with you. I have an obsession with hands, hand photos, heck my wedding vows were all about "the hands"... So here is my very favorite pic from these stolen two days with my Nana...</span><br />
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These are the hands that held me when I was only a week old<br />
These are the hands that fed me when I was a baby<br />
These are the hands that helped my mother raise me<br />
These are the hands that brought me my favorite teddy bear in the wide world<br />
These are the hands of the lady I called to run away to when my mommy was being mean to me<br />
These are the hands that were in the audience at every important moment and milestone in my life patting me on the back with pride<br />
These are the hands that held mine after I made my biggest mistakes and held me while I cried<br />
These are the hands that pushed my hair behind my ear, stroked my tear stricken face, and told me it was going to be okay<br />
These were the hands that taught me how to be a great lady<br />
These were the hands that showed me by example, how to take care of a family, her family<br />
These are the hands that showed me the true meaning of 'in sickness and in health'<br />
These are the hands that taught me how to make pineapple, lettuce, miracle whip cheese salads to perfectly complement spaghetti<br />
These are the hands that patiently dug out the recipe to her hot dog chili, to teach me how to make it, when I called from college<br />
These are the hands that helped take care of her sick dAughter<br />
These are the hands that along with my Pawpaw, called me their third daughter, because we were so close<br />
These are the hands of a grandmother, mother and friend<br />
These are the hands of one of my best friends<br />
These are the hands that loved and treated my husbands children as if they were here own <br />
These are the hands that helped raise my own daughter when I had to go back to work<br />
These are the hands of one of the two women who taught me to be the woman and mother that I am today...<br />
These are the hands that helped me to be strong as I laid my mother, her daughter to rest<br />
These are the hands of my inspiration<br />
These hands are irreplaceable <br />
These precious hands...<br />
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*This was posted two months prior to my Nana's passing on 3-22-15.gingerssnapshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12754274779403650715noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8875614933692657294.post-34535111062013246012013-07-18T06:49:00.000-07:002013-07-18T06:49:33.609-07:00Faith and PrayerThis was written as a guest post for another blogger. I am sharing it with you all today.<br />
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Faith. I have always had faith. As long as I can remember I have had faith. Faith in myself, faith in my family, faith in the innate goodness of people, and faith in God. I was deeply involved in a youth group that taught a belief in a higher being and the basic truths of the bible. Big lessons were faith, hope and charity. I was raised to have faith.<br />
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My four and a half year old daughter asked me how do we know God is real? I explained to her that we just have to have faith, or to believe and trust in our hearts that he is real. I asked her how did we know that air is real? Because we have faith that it is. How do we know that love is real? Can you touch it, taste it, or see it? No, we have to believe, or have faith that it is real. Even four year olds grasp the concept of faith.<br />
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My mother was a great believer in faith, hope and charity as well. She loved her God, and was a very religious person. We went to church when I was little, and then stopped going faithfully because of the commercialization and monetization of big religion. Religion sells. I was raised in a very faith filled, religious home. My mother would give addresses to every local chapter of her state, when she paid her official required yearly visit as part of her duties of her being the state president of a particular social service organization. People started to call her talks, "Carla's Sermons." She was that devout, and loved her God with all her heart and soul. She was one of those rare speakers, that God's message touched everyone when she spoke. Often there were no dry eyes in the house. She shone with the love for her God. She grew up in church. She did not attend church regularly in her latter years, she did not feel it necessary to put on her Sunday best to impress people with their hearts in the wrong place, and she did not feel it necessary to put in her twenty bucks every Sunday, for her to feel like a 'good Christian.' She was full of love, and fellowshipped regularly with others to celebrate God. <br />
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My grandmother taught me when I was little, after I learned to pray, that you did not have to just say your prayers at night. She taught me to pray all throughout the day. She taught me that when you believe in God, that he listens to the prayers of his children all of the time, not just at bedtime. She taught me that he is always there for us. She taught me to thank him for all of our blessings, not to just pray in our troubling times. They both taught me that God has a master plan, and prayers are not always answered. Sometimes I thank God for that. Sometimes I just have to have faith that he knows best, and trust in him.<br />
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I was lucky, I had two great teachers in faith and prayer. A favorite prayer of both of theirs, was Footprints In The Sand. I was tested when my mother became very ill. She was very, very sick for a long time. I prayed multiple times everyday to help her get better. She had to endure forty plus hospitalizations. It was very hard to watch her endure, what turned out to be her lot in life, her bad health. I prayed more than I ever thought possible. I prayed before, during, and after every surgery, every hospital, every infection, every amputation, every time her kidneys almost shut down, and when they did. I prayed every time there was a new condition, illness, infection, disorder, disease, bacteria, and slowly but surely watched her health deteriorate over time. Praying for my sweet momma, became a more important part of my daily things to do list, than going to the bathroom. I prayed that my work would let me take long lunches to go and be with my momma. I prayed for her to get better. I prayed for God to help her not be so depressed about her health, and to keep her spirits up. I prayed for her to not be one of the unfortunate ones that MRSA claimed as a victim. I prayed for no more strokes after the first twelve. I prayed for more time with my mommy, I prayed for my daughter to have more time with her gran-gran, I prayed and prayed and prayed. No more heart surgeries, strokes, polymyalgia rheumatic, diabetes, thyroid, sepsis, bladder infections, uti's, toe infections, leg infections, fungal, streptococcus, no more blood transfusions, no more surgeries, no more whacking off her dead black toes, no more debridement needed, no more equipment to suck puss out of her feet and legs, no more unbearable pain from the diabetic neuropathy, no more kidney infections and reduced function, no dialysis, no more going blind from diabetic retinopathy, cataracts, and glaucoma. I prayed for her to have to bear no more, or for at least God to help her bear her load. My mother suffered so much here on this earth, in her poor little sick body, that when the time came, I prayed for her suffering to end. She was the strongest person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. She bore her health with a smile. And then I selfishly prayed for her not to die. I cried and prayed for God not to take her. I prayed to take back what I prayed for. Yes, sometimes God doesn't answer all the prayers of his children.<br />
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I prayed when I left the hospital on the night that was to be her last, for God to help her. I prayed for God to help me. I cannot help but remembering thinking after all the hubbub died down, of all the things you go through when a person dies, that she had raised me to be as strong as she was. She had taught me to be strong, have faith and depend on God. She had spent her entire life preparing me for the moment she was no longer on this earth to take care of me. Then later that night, after I finished dinner with my husband and three year old at the time, I got the call. Less than two hours after I left the hospital. Her heart had stopped again. That this was probably the end. I had been there with her for two days, and the infection ravaging her poor little body had gotten worse and worse, to the point that she crashed after an x-ray. As I watched the countless medical personnel manually pump her heart for over an hour, upon returning to her bedside, I felt a quiet, cool, calming peace come over me. I had to be the one to make the call. In my morbid fascination in anything and everything medical, growing up with two parents in the medical field, I had to witness every single second with her. I had to be there. I had to touch her, hold her hand after we made the call. <br />
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She was there and held me when I came into this world, and I had to be there, holding her hand, when she slipped out of it. I had to make my father and brother come in to say their last goodbyes to her. I was poised on the edge of a precipice I did not want to cross, but yet I pressed on. I had to be the strong one. I am my mother's daughter. I cannot begin to describe the overwhelming sense of emptiness and pain that is incomprehensible to anyone who has not lost a parent. I have lost grandparents, and it is nowhere close to the pain I felt and still feel over losing my best friend in life, my mother. I truly believe there was a presence there that night flooding me with peace, to enable me to be the strong one. I have only my faith to tell me it was real, but I know it as surely as I know my own name. I believe that God was there for me after my beloved momma passed away. I believe he was watching over me on my drive home alone, while I was bawling my eyes out, and was having trouble seeing the lines on the road in the horrible rain storm. I believe that he helped me pick the best husband in the world, that would one day be able to give me what I needed while processing this life changing event. I believe that he helped me find the right words to tell my precious three year old, that her granny had went to be with Jesus in heaven. I believe that God helped me through losing my mother, just like I asked him to. I believe, like the line in Footprints In The Sand goes, that it was then that he carried me. I believe he answered my prayers, because I could not have gotten through it alone. <br />
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I couldn't have gotten through the death of my Momma without my faith, and belief in God. I fully believe in the power of prayer. I believe that sometimes, maybe just maybe, God sends you signs when you need them the most. I believe that God answers prayers, and that sometimes when he doesn't, that we just have to trust that there is a bigger plan.<br />
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gingerssnapshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12754274779403650715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8875614933692657294.post-59530256470125097212013-04-12T09:26:00.002-07:002013-04-12T09:26:41.356-07:00Visiting HoursDear Mommy,<br />
I am coming to visit you today! I know I have not been good about coming to the cemetery. You see, it is so very hard. I am sitting her crying just thinking about coming to visit. There is something so innately wrong with you being in the ground and not here with me. I love you so and miss you like crazy. It seems like forever since I have seen you, since you have held me in your arms, and since you last kissed my hand. In reality it has only been sixteen and a half months since you passed away. We moved to Kentucky six months after you passed, and then I broke my leg three months after that. I couldn't walk on both feet for almost four months, and living in a different state with no babysitters, and one car made all the difference. Maybe I needed to insulate myself, and become stronger before I came to visit you again. Maybe I needed to let time pass. Maybe I needed some distance. Just like the pictures of you that I finally hung in my hallway, I am ready to come to your earthly resting place and visit again.<br />
<br />
Why do I feel so very guilty for only having been to visit you there a handful of times? I know you are in heaven, and I shouldn't feel guilty, but yet I do. I have thought about it a lot. I know I should visit more often, and I will now that I am ready. It just seems wrong to me somehow to visit a cemetery to see you, rather than driving to your house. To look at a cold piece of metal with your name on it. To talk to the air, and hoping you hear me in heaven! To bend down and touch your gravestone, instead of rubbing your warm, soft skin. To not have you still in this life, watching your beloved granddaughter grown up with me. You should still be here with me mom. You went too soon! When the band aid is off, some days the pain is still so hard. The missing, the black hole in my chest. You are still so much more to me than a cold hard piece of metal in the ground that I come to pay my 'respects' to during visiting hours. But you taught me well, to visit and pay respects to your dead. So I will be dropping in today. 'Cause you are my dead. Even though you went too young, you are mine! And today I feel drawn, compelled to visit you.<br />
<br />
I wish you were here to go with me to register my daughter for kindergarten, to see my new house, to talk to everyday on the phone, or to even visit you in the hospital. I would give anything just to visit you in the hospital, and sit quietly and watch you sleep one more time. I wish I could talk to you about all the crazy and crappy that has been going on in my life lately. And the good, there is so much good mommy. Daddy and I have become close like you and I were. We have been there for each other, and pulled each other through the last sixteen and a half months. I know you know all this, because you watching, but sometimes I have to have a good cry and get it all out. Today was one of those days. Daddy called and asked if I wanted to go to the cemetery with him, and I said yes! I cannot wait to come visit! I am ready and I am able.<br />
<br />
So in the middle of my crying jag, the four and a half year old comes over, and I am bawling. I told her I was missing Granny. So she asks me if I want her to sing a song to cheer me up! I said yes! You see that is our thing, we sing each other silly songs to cheer each other up! It went like this;<br />
<br />
Cheer up mommy, I love you, I know you miss your mommy, but I am still here, I haven't died, I love you so so much, I love you mommy....etc<br />
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And then there was dancing on bubble wrap in the living room! My four year old definitely has a handle on keeping it real! I know you were laughing from heaven! You loved dancing, so I know you were dancing right along with us! So I will be coming to visit today. And to close, I will leave you with one of my all time favorite quotes from Steel Magnolias, the movie;<br />
"Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion!"<br />
<br />
Love always<br />
-Your loving Daughtergingerssnapshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12754274779403650715noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8875614933692657294.post-87436226500377825112013-04-06T06:22:00.003-07:002013-04-06T06:24:42.022-07:00Hop Libs Blog Hop Entry, Week 2<table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" class="mG_page"><tbody>
<tr><td align="center"><strong><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="mG_page_title">A Foolish Fox and Five Wishes Mad:)Take</span></span></strong></td></tr>
<tr><td align="center"><table align="center" bgcolor="#d0d0d0" cellpadding="5" class="mG_glibbox"><tbody>
<tr><td><span style="color: purple;">A Fox named <span class="mG_glibword">Marshall</span> is chasing a <span class="mG_glibword">squirrel</span> named <span class="mG_glibword">Corky</span> through a forest.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;">Suddenly, <span class="mG_glibword">Marshall</span> Fox and <span class="mG_glibword">Corky</span> <span class="mG_glibword">squirrel</span> found an old <span class="mG_glibword">Hair Gel</span> and decided to rub it.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;">A genie pops up and says: I will grant you each of you wishes; three for you, <span class="mG_glibword">Corky</span> <span class="mG_glibword">squirrel</span>, and five for you, <span class="mG_glibword">Marshall</span> Fox.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><span class="mG_glibword">Corky</span> <span class="mG_glibword">squirrel</span> was angry with the Genies offer of extra wishes to <span class="mG_glibword">Marshall</span> Fox and decided to have the last laugh. <span class="mG_glibword">Corky</span> <span class="mG_glibword">squirrel</span> says to Fox: <span class="mG_glibword">Marshall</span>, you go ahead and make 3 of your wishes first, while I decide what I will use my wishes for.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><span class="mG_glibword">Marshall</span> Fox thinks that it is only natural for him to make his wishes first and begins: For my first wish, I wish all the foxes in the forest were female.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;">The Genie <span class="mG_glibword">sliding</span> his <span class="mG_glibword">foot</span> and *<span class="mG_glibword">oh my goodness</span>* it is done.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;">Then <span class="mG_glibword">Marshall</span> says: For my second wish, make me the most <span class="mG_glibword">stinky</span> fox in the world.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;">The Genie <span class="mG_glibword">sliding</span> his <span class="mG_glibword">foot</span> and *<span class="mG_glibword">oh my goodness</span>* it is done.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;">Next, <span class="mG_glibword">Marshall</span> Fox says: Third, give me all the <span class="mG_glibword">pop tarts</span> in the world to <span class="mG_glibword">hiding</span>.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;">*<span class="mG_glibword">oh my goodness</span>* It is done.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;">Then the Genie says: OK, <span class="mG_glibword">squirrel</span>, it is your turn to make your first wish.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><span class="mG_glibword">squirrel</span> says: I wish for a <span class="mG_glibword">book</span>.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;">*<span class="mG_glibword">oh my goodness</span>* it is done.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><span class="mG_glibword">Marshall</span> Fox says: I wish all the foxes in this country were females.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;">*<span class="mG_glibword">oh my goodness</span>* It is done.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><span class="mG_glibword">Corky</span> <span class="mG_glibword">squirrel</span> then says: I wish for a life time supply of <span class="mG_glibword">garlic naan</span> at the back of my house.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;">The Genie <span class="mG_glibword">sliding</span> his <span class="mG_glibword">foot</span> and *<span class="mG_glibword">oh my goodness</span>* it is done. </span><br />
<span style="color: purple;">Fox says: For my last wish, make all the other foxes in this entire world female.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;">*<span class="mG_glibword">oh my goodness</span>* It is done.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;"></span><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><span class="mG_glibword">Corky</span> <span class="mG_glibword">squirrel</span> then says with a smile: I wish <span class="mG_glibword">Marshall</span> Fox to be FEMALE!</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;">*<span class="mG_glibword">oh my goodness</span>* It is done.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;">And <span class="mG_glibword">Corky</span> <span class="mG_glibword">squirrel</span> drives away on the <span class="mG_glibword">book</span> <span class="mG_glibword">silly</span>.</span></td></tr>
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gingerssnapshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12754274779403650715noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8875614933692657294.post-67857136932445371622013-03-29T13:08:00.000-07:002013-03-29T13:34:59.447-07:00First Ever Hop Libs Blog HopHiya! Today I am having fun! I am co-hosting, along with another gal, Miss Cristyl, over at CHill Thoughts, the first ever Hop Libs Blog Hop, from my other Blog, The Wild and Wonderful World of Gingerssnaps! It's super fun! All you have to do is, fill out your words, click create, and read your hilarious mad-lib inspired, hop lib! No writing, serious thoughts, etc, just fun like when we were 10! Just be sure to copy and paste you Hop Lib into a blog post, copy the URL and link up so we can see your hilarious Hop Lib too!! Happy Hop Libbing!
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><u><b>THE WAY IT WORKS </b></u></span></div>
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Please follow both your hostesses on whatever social media you prefer <br />
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You provide us with 26 little words in the blanks below and we'll provide you with your very own HOP Lib, a Mad Libs-style story, you can copy and paste into a blog post. Please mention the hop and link back to us; grab our button and include it on your blog or in your post if you can.<br />
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<center>
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;" trbidi="on">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.mychillthoughts.blogspot.com"><img alt="" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm280/1CHilbaby/CHill%20Thoughts/447b8619-bee0-44e7-a7a3-367ecff80852_zps83893fb7.jpg" title="HOP Libs BLOG HOP" /></a></div>
</center>
<center>
<input onclick="this.focusundefined);this.selectundefined)" readonly="" type="text" value="<center><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;" trbidi="on">
<a href="www.mychillthoughts.blogspot.com"><img alt="" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm280/1CHilbaby/CHill%20Thoughts/447b8619-bee0-44e7-a7a3-367ecff80852_zps83893fb7.jpg" title="HOP Libs BLOG HOP" /></a></div></center>" />
<b>
</b></center>
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Then, come back here and link up your post with your HOP Libs story! Easy peasy, lemon-squeezy!<br />
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I'll be including my HOP Lib at the very end of this post, below the link-up, so that the surprise isn't ruined for you before you complete your own HOP Lib. <br />
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<h2>
Your hostesses are:</h2>
<center>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.mychillthoughts.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBFAjSauak2cIFGWUZkzRPFqN4mLhOcAdzch02jdz7kjtQAR53yHSq9iXWc3souymdiwlc0KOlcMX4GcL8AE5l2uJKjf1pssC5w9pfWInrtahZ0l2fQ4s7batyS5wDNjIfSo2uNyoGisw/s200/CT+Square+250+x+250.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="http://www.facebook.com/mychillthoughts" target="_blank">FACEBOOK</a> / <a href="http://www.bloglovin.com/en/blog/5057615" target="_blank">BLOGLOVIN'</a> / <a href="http://pinterest.com/chillthoughts/" target="_blank">PINTEREST</a> / <a href="https://twitter.com/ChillRamblings" target="_blank">TWITTER</a></center>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
AND </div>
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<div align="center">
<a href="http://wildwonderfulgingerssnaps.blogspot.com/" title="The Wild and Wonderful World of Gingerssnaps"><img alt="The Wild and Wonderful World of Gingerssnaps" src="http://i1304.photobucket.com/albums/s521/gingerssnaps32/4bbbc367-9814-4c1f-970f-cd551c5625c0_zpsc2285b0c.jpg" style="border: none;" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.facebook.com/wildwonderfulgingerssnaps" target="_blank">FACEBOOK</a> / <a href="http://www.bloglovin.com/en/blog/5061503" target="_blank">BLOGLOVIN'</a> / <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/gingerssnaps" target="_blank">PINTEREST </a>/ <a href="https://twitter.com/gingerssnaps32" target="_blank">TWITTER</a> </div>
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<h2>
Create your HOP Lib:</h2>
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<table align="center" style="background-color: #d0d0d0; background-image: url('http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm280/1CHilbaby/CHill%20Thoughts/backgroundgreen_zps0a52c2a3.jpg'); border-color: #B3BBF2; border: ridge; font-size: 12pt; padding: 10px; width: 425px;"><tbody>
<tr><td align="center"><a href="http://www.mychillthoughts.blogspot.com/" title="HOP Libs by CHill Thoughts"><img alt="’HOP" border="0" by="" chill="" height="200" libs="" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm280/1CHilbaby/CHill%20Thoughts/faad0d53-5170-4fbc-9e21-91330b297ca0_zpsd9802a43.jpg" thoughts="" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td align="center" colspan="3"><form action="http://www.madtakes.com/doglib.php" method="POST">
<input name="offsite" type="hidden" value="true" /><input name="title" type="hidden" value="HOP Libs Blog Hop Word Game" /><br />
<center>
<span style="font-size: 18pt; font-variant: small-caps; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">HOP Libs Blog Hop Word Game</span></center>
<input name="text" type="hidden" value="Here comes <-> <->tail<br> <-> down the <-> trail<br> <-> hoppin`,<br> Easter`s on its way<br><br>Bringin` every <-> and <-><br> <-> full of Easter <-><br> Things to make your Easter<br> <-> and <-><br><br>He`s got <-> for <-><br> Colored <-> for sister <-><br> There`s an <-> for your mommy<br> And an Easter <-> too<br><br>Oh! here comes <-> <->tail<br> <-> down the <-> trail<br> <-> hoppity,<br> <-> Easter Day<br><br>Here comes <-> <->tail<br> <-> down the <-> trail<br> <-> hoppin`,<br> Easter`s on its way<br><br>Try to do the things you should<br> Maybe if you`re extra <-><br> He`ll <-> lots of Easter <-> your way<br><br>You`ll wake up on Easter <-><br> And you`ll know that he was there<br> When you find those <-> <-><br> That he`s hiding everywhere<br><br>Oh! here comes <-> <->tail<br> Hoppin` down the <-> trail<br> <-> hoppity, happy Easter Day<br><-> hoppity, happy Easter Day" /><br />
<table border="0" style="font-size: 10pt;"><tbody>
<tr><td align="right">MAN’S NAME</td><td align="left"><input name="1" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">FABRIC</td><td align="left"><input name="2" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">VERB ENDING IN –ING</td><td align="left"><input name="3" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">ANIMAL</td><td align="left"><input name="4" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">ADJECTIVE</td><td align="left"><input name="5" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">NOUN</td><td align="left"><input name="6" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">NOUN</td><td align="left"><input name="7" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">PLURAL NOUN</td><td align="left"><input name="8" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">EMOTION</td><td align="left"><input name="9" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">EMOTION</td><td align="left"><input name="10" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">EMOTION</td><td align="left"><input name="11" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">TYPE OF CANDY</td><td align="left"><input name="12" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">BOY’S NAME</td><td align="left"><input name="13" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">FOOD</td><td align="left"><input name="14" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">GIRL’S NAME</td><td align="left"><input name="15" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">FLOWER</td><td align="left"><input name="16" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">CLOTHING</td><td align="left"><input name="17" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><input name="18" type="hidden" value="{!1}" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><input name="19" type="hidden" value="{!2}" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">VERB ENDING IN –ING</td><td align="left"><input name="20" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><input name="21" type="hidden" value="{!4}" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><input name="22" type="hidden" value="{!5}" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">EMOTION</td><td align="left"><input name="23" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><input name="24" type="hidden" value="{!1}" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><input name="25" type="hidden" value="{!2}" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">VERB ENDING IN –ING</td><td align="left"><input name="26" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><input name="27" type="hidden" value="{!4}" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><input name="28" type="hidden" value="{!5}" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">ADJECTIVE</td><td align="left"><input name="29" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">VERB</td><td align="left"><input name="30" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">FOOD</td><td align="left"><input name="31" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">TIME OF DAY</td><td align="left"><input name="32" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">CANDY FLAVOR</td><td align="left"><input name="33" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">ANIMAL, PLURAL</td><td align="left"><input name="34" type="text" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><input name="35" type="hidden" value="{!1}" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><input name="36" type="hidden" value="{!2}" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><input name="37" type="hidden" value="{!4}" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><input name="38" type="hidden" value="{!5}" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><input name="39" type="hidden" value="{!5}" /></td></tr>
<tr><td align="center" colspan="2"><input onclick="this.form.target='_blank';return true;" style="background-color: #444f9f; border-color: #B3BBF2; border-style: outset; color: whitesmoke; font-weight: bold;" type="submit" value="CREATE my HOP Lib!" /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<input name="wCount" type="hidden" value="39" /></form>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Our HOP Lib is generated by <a href="http://madtakes.com/" target="_blank">Mad:)Takes</a> - thanks for providing the fun!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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document.write('<script type="text/javascript" src=http://www.inlinkz.com/cs.php?id=257158&' + new Date().getTime() + '"><\/script>');</script>
<!-- end InLinkz script -->gingerssnapshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12754274779403650715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8875614933692657294.post-72357519000488567132013-03-09T08:15:00.001-08:002013-03-24T07:17:48.060-07:00Granny, You've Got MailSo I finally did it! I got all of the pictures of my mom hung up in my house. There is a family tree wall, and I finally had the courage to hang all of the pictures. The pictures that I cherish of my mother. I did not have the courage to hang them all until now. It was kind of a big deal. I have healed enough to be able to look at those cherished memories every day, without being reduced to a sobbing sack of grief. My father has been to my house to see them as well. They made him smile!<br />
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My daughter and I have talked about them several times in the past couple of weeks since they have been hung. How she was her Granny's doll baby, and how much Granny wanted her and loved her. She went through missing her a couple of weeks ago, when she was tired, saying,"I don't remember those times with my Granny!" Shot through my heart, as I promised my mother that I would never let her baby forget her. So we have been talking about her more, almost everyday.<br />
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So this morning, my baby was going through the pictures on the wall, and asked, " Can I pray to my Granny mommy?" I replied, "Sure you can baby, anytime you want!" So she climbed in my bed and proceeded to pray to my mother in heaven, saying," Granny I miss you!"<br />
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Water works-check. So then we climbed that giant lump in my throat hurdle, had a good cry, and she came up with a great idea! She said, " Momma, I need an envelope!" I asked her why. She replied, "I want to send hugs and kisses to Granny in heaven!" AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH. My child definitely shares my mother's and my propensity for big heartedness. And the ability to pull on my heartstrings at the drop of a hat.<br />
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So I go and get her a card, and sit her down at the table to get started. She immediately writes I, draws a heart, and a u. I tear up again. She then draws herself and an anatomically correct "Granny". She draws a line and explains that they are hugging and kissing. She then has me spell to Granny From Hayden out loud for her while she addresses the outside of the envelope. She then puts her card in the envelope and says, "we can't forget all the hugs and kisses!" I am a mess at this point.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBeWFHN5P36Hj_VH1nsmtRXHk-U19o4W-HCpCFr31wTb9TRaNIQljX5ZHwP297JA57Bmb0MGxZV5YRh_xn3bZ6qifxAfgroopqE5HyFYM4UscoKLkDTR0Zo8-tlNvNoW55Ez1FIjuZeA3-/s1600/IMG_1962%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBeWFHN5P36Hj_VH1nsmtRXHk-U19o4W-HCpCFr31wTb9TRaNIQljX5ZHwP297JA57Bmb0MGxZV5YRh_xn3bZ6qifxAfgroopqE5HyFYM4UscoKLkDTR0Zo8-tlNvNoW55Ez1FIjuZeA3-/s320/IMG_1962%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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She then asks me to take it to the mailbox, since we are still in our jammies. I say sure, and she watches me carry it our, and pretend deposit in the mailbox. She said, "so Granny can pick it up!" have a mini-breakdown en route to the mailbox! I will save this special card forever!<br />
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So Granny, you've got mail. A very special delivery, from your doll baby! I just know that you received your special delivery to heaven!<br />
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<br />gingerssnapshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12754274779403650715noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8875614933692657294.post-14239812858078995152013-02-23T09:23:00.004-08:002013-02-23T09:23:58.946-08:00My Little Plant and IDear Mom,<br />
I wanted to share something, and you aren't around to call, so I am putting it out here on the blog. It's about a plant. A potted plant that I received at your funeral. A former youth group member and her momma sent it to us when you died. All the multitude of flowers that we received, and that filled our house after your wake, are now gone. All but this one remaining potted plant. It still has the original ribbon around the base that says comfort, and has grown a bit. It is beautiful, and full of life. <br />
You know me, I do not have any semblance of green thumbery. I have never kept a plant alive, that required care, more than two years in my life. Just ask my best friend Auntie J, I killed almost all of her plants once when I was plant sitting, during a staywithhermomduringabrokenankle extended absence! The only other plant I did not kill was an amaryllis, which doesn't require frequent anything. That plant turned into a game to see how long we could go without watering it. It loved the abuse and being ignored. The plant became a family joke. It was one I got for a Christmas/housewarming gift about 7 years ago! It has long since joined the plant retirement community in the sky.<br />
Any time a leaf turns brown and dies, I freak out. I immediately start worrying if I have watered it too much? Did I start the ball rolling, that sets in motion, the sequence of events that will lead to it's impending demise? I worry about this plant like I have never worried about anything green before. It is strange to me how I worry about this plant.<br />
I silently look at it and greet it every morning. In all my ridiculousness, I was thinking about why keeping this plant alive is so important to me. I have come to the following conclusion. I love this plant. I love it like I have loved no other. It symbolizes the last thing that you indirectly gave me. The last thing that ties me to you. I have no more mommy hugs, no more mommy kisses, no more giggles with my mother like we were little school girls, and no more fun girls day shopping outings with you, me and my daughter. What I have, as I wrote in my last post, are <a href="http://griefchronicles.blogspot.com/2013/02/pictures-and-memories.html">Pictures and Memories</a>. It is the last thing that ties me to you(save all your stuff and family members). I feel as if I fail this little plant, that I am somehow failing you. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it's my comrade in arms.<br />
My little plant and I started this journey in grief together. If the plant makes it, I guess I feel that so do I. If I take care of it, then by living, it in a sort of therapeutic kind of way, takes care of me too. I never 'got' plant people before, but now I kind of do. I understand how an inanimate object can be a source of solace, companionship, and comfort. So in honor of my plant of self realization, I will be naming it. I will keep you posted on the naming of my little buddy! I also may need to check out a bigger pot!<br />
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gingerssnapshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12754274779403650715noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8875614933692657294.post-38680457472416666862013-02-20T13:06:00.005-08:002013-02-20T13:06:48.012-08:00Pictures and MemoriesDear Mom, <br />
it's been a while since I have written. I have been competing in a photo contest online, and today's entry was a picture of you and me. Taken in my early twenties when we were working in the kitchen at some Rainbow function or another. We were happy as larks! I had just met my future husband, you were a proud mamma, we were still involved in the youth group together, and we had each other. <br />
The subject of the photo for today was suppose to 'envy'. All I had to do was walk through the hallway in my new house, which you have never seen, or will never step foot inside of, and look at the picture gallery that I started hanging yesterday. I finally felt I was strong enough to hang all your pictures, and look at them every day. There it was, the picture of the happy little two of us. We were both so young, healthy, and in the prime of our lives. I am envious of my younger self. A younger self that still had time with you, and you always and forever by my side. I miss you like crazy. <br />
I called Nana this morning and caught up with her. I was telling her that it doesn't hurt so bad all the time anymore, just when I let it out, like now. I find myself wishing I could call you and discuss my distress at Hayden starting kindergarten, and tell you that the sign ups are next month! I just want to ask you if you could believe how quickly my baby is growing up. I wish I could just dial your number and chat in the bathroom like we used to do, and talk about nothing in particular. I wish I could share all the goings on in my life and my family's, the good and the bad. I wish I still had your loving voice to tell me everything was going to be okay.<br />
I can still remember your voice and little things you used to say. I close my eyes and remember your spoken words, I can still hear them. I am visualizing the last hug you ever gave me on your own, I close my eyes, and I feel your arms around me, transported for a moment back to your bedroom. Am I ridiculous for trying to remember your arms wrapped around me in love? So much love. I have been dreaming about you lately. For a long time, you have not entered my dreams, maybe since a couple of months after the funeral. I was glad a couple of nights ago when I dreamed of you. It felt like home. I dreamed of you the second night, and last night too. Doing mundane 'us' things that we used to do. Ring shopping!<br />
I wish you could see that daddy started the same tradition with Hayden, that he did with me when I was four. He bought her the most beautiful Valentine's pink roses. He bought me roses too. The floral account is still in your name, and so your name was on the card. I wish you were here to see. The last three days, I have fallen asleep with Hayden during naptime. I have woken up just in time for the sunset every night. The last three nights sunsets have been purple and pink. Coincidence? Maybe, maybe not. I don't know anymore, but the thought has crossed my mind.<br />
So dear mommy, I miss you. All the time. I had the mother most others only dream of, and I miss you like crazy. Every. Single. Day. I am thankful for the pictures taken and all of the memories we made together. They are what I have now.<br />
I love you, forever in my heart-<br />
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your daughtergingerssnapshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12754274779403650715noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8875614933692657294.post-29583647306873638692012-10-14T09:36:00.001-07:002012-10-14T09:36:25.581-07:00Happy Birthday Momma<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_507ae59ef38737579571271">
<span class="userContent">Dear Mom, today you would have been 62. It breaks my heart to not be able to call you this year and have Hayden sing Happy Birthday to you over the phone! Last year on your birthday at this time, Hayden and I were getting ready to come over to your house to spend the day with you. We laughed and chatted while you finished getting ready, and Miss <a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100000781713073" href="http://www.facebook.com/stella.white.7">Stella White</a> was there with us too. Hayden gave <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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you the birthday cards she had made you, and you enjoyed you firstborn granchild for the last time on your birthday. We then took you shopping for the Ipad you were determined to get and learn how to use. We got your Ipad, your signature purple case, and as we were picking them out, Miss Stella had an emergency, and had to go. Ben came to the rescue, and picked us all up, and took us to the Olive Garden, where we met Dad after he got off work. Andy and Stacy, who was pregnant with Mason, at the time, joined us for what would be our last family dinner all together. We ate, and you opened your presents, and posed for pictures. After you had gotten in the car, Hayden wanted to snuggle, so she sat on your lap for more hugs and kisses. I am so very glad that I took those pictures of you kissing her, and those last family pictures. Those and all my precious and memories are all I have left of you now. I know you will always be with me, and all around me. I see the sunsets, the rainbows, and everyday little things that make me think of you. It's just not the same, and never will be again mom. I miss your sweet smile, your infectious laughter, your ornry sense of humor, being able to talk to you, visit you, hug you, and kiss you. I miss your voice and the way you smell. I miss your kind and generous spirit. Today on your birthday, I miss you. So much it hurts. I know your having a grand old time up in heaven, but we all, Nana, Daddy, Hayden and I, miss you so down here. It's been ten and a half months, and this is the last milestone of the first year without you. I have kept my promises to you, and I am taking care of things down here! I miss you like crazy and love you forever! Happy 62nd birthday Mommy! </div>
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gingerssnapshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12754274779403650715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8875614933692657294.post-2602930242809750142012-04-11T16:18:00.002-07:002012-04-11T16:18:23.806-07:00The Adjustment Process<div>
Until you have been through losing your mother, you cannot possibly fathom what it is like. Life changes. What you have known your whole life, is suddenly a cherished memory. One that you find yourself wishing you were back inside of. Some holiday traditions change and some remain the same. But they are never actually the same ever again. The focal point of the family will now forever be missing from the picture. The one who married my father, gave birth to me and my brother, raised me, taught me everything I know, the one who became my best friend early on, the one I shared everything with no matter how big or how small, and the one who was my biggest cheerleader. The woman who loved me no matter what and loved me like no one else ever could. She was my shoulder to cry on, and the one who held me when times got tough. She was my sounding board and constant source of advice and wisdom. She was the one who shaped me and my personality. She taught me to be kind, gentle and forgiving. She is the one who taught me acceptance of everyone, no matter the differences. She was was the one who instilled in me my morals, values and love of God. She was the strongest woman I have ever known. No matter how much pain she was in, she always had a good attitude, and her sense of humor. Grace under pressure. She had a blessed life, but her cross to bear was her health. Few people know what she actually went through, besides our family and the doctors. But that is a whole seperate series of blogs!<br />
So this Easter, I really missed my mother. It was the first holiday, that my family has not spent together. My dad had to work, and my brother and sister in law took their almost three week old son to church. We had planned to go to church with my husband grandparents, but plans changed. We discovered the easter basket with the three year old, and ate breakfast. Then it hit me. The overwhelming grief. The lump in my throat, biting my lip, so my three year old will not see me cry on easter morning, empty aching hole in my chest, missing my mother on this first Easter without her, pain and sorrow that we call grief. Easter was her favorite holiday. When she was a state level president of a fraternal social service organization, her year's entire theme was based on the Easter story. Her fun symbols were bunnies and crosses. She loved Easter.<br />
This is the first Easter when I did not spend time with my mother. This was the first year that I couldnt shop with her for the toddler's easter dress. The first year I couldn't see mom's excitement at taking my baby for Easter pictures, and at opening granny and grandpa's easter basket. My mother absolutely loved buying my daughter dresses and dressing her up. She loved my baby so very much. She spoiled her rotten. That is the way it is suppose to be. The way of grandmothers and granddaughters. My baby was her pride and joy. My baby will never again get to experience that love firsthand. That breaks my heart. <br />
My mother's mother, Nana, and I have always been close. My Nana and Pawpaw always called me their third daughter. My mom shared an extremely close best friend relationship with her mother, and I with both of them. These relationships are some of my most treasured things. My baby will never have that with my mother and I as she grows up. We were all very lucky in that we got to share these once in a lifetime relationships. I am heartbroken. My mother died too early. Daily life had been a struggle for her for a long time. I know that she is in no more pain, no more suffering, and that she is rejoicing in heaven with her God. People tell me different ways to deal and cope with my grief, with this adjustment process, but I can only deal with it my own way. My husband always knows what I need. He had a daddy daughter morning while mommy "napped." In reality, I sobbed my eyes out for a good hour. I finally calmed down, only to start leaking again. I then fell asleep for a little while before we had to go to my huisband's family shindig.<br />
So I decided, in the vein of being exactly like my mother, that we were taking my daddy Easter dinner, a card, and a chocolate bunny from my daughter to her grandpa. So boy was he suprised when he woke up to dinner in the fridge! I crept in and watched him sleep for a quick minute. I cannot begin to fathom his pain and suffering at the loss of his soul mate. They did everything together. They were one of the few married couples that actually enjy each other, and took care of each other. Like I said, I cannot begin to fathom the depths, from his side.<br />
At bedtime that night, I started crying again. So I went to bed, put the baby to bed, and had another good cry. I miss my mother so much. I am great at dealing and at compartmentalizing. Some days I just cannot avoid the inevitable breakdowns. No one can. Everything I have known and been able to depend on my entire life, is now forever changed. Every day I miss my mother, and think of her all throughout the day. <br />
I was raised in one of those familys where my Nana and Pawpaw's house was the gathering place for all big huge family holiday celebrations. Everyone came, brought their kids, and it was a very loud, loving atmosphere. Everyone was welcome. My family has always had the attitude of the more the merrier. Everyone caught up, watched sports, the kids played, and my grandmother had to be dragged out of the kitchen. It was a family affair. My husband's family is the same way. I am glad. I miss our big family shindigs. After my grandfather passed, the celebrations moved to my parents house. A year after his death, my grandmother moved in with my parents. Some other family came and went over the years, most were now doing their own family celebrations, and were too busy to all get together. My aunt and her kids moved to Charlotte, NC. My uncle and his family kept expanding and they had their own family celebrations. My mom and dad and nana became our holiday celebration. A year and a half before my mother left this earth, she moved to Charlotte with my aunt and uncle. She could not take care of my mother anymore. It was time for someone to take care of her. My poor mother could not. My father was busy taking care of my mother and working. My aunt now takes great care of my Nana. I miss her everyday too. My mother always said she did not think she would ever survive the loss of her mother. I always agreed with her. She had to deal with that loss to an extent, when my Nana moved to Charlotte. But thank goodness she never had to deal with her dying. It seems like my whole life, my mother was training me to be strong enough to live without her. She made me strong enough to endure what she feared the most, losing her mother.<br />
I am, without a doubt, just like my mother. A fierce lover, fighter, strong, emotional woman who takes care of those around her, with a strong sense of family. I will raise my daughter the same way my mother raised me. I will never let my baby forget my mother. I promised her that I would never let her forget her Granny.<br />
So holidays come one at a time. I am taking one at a time, surviving one at a time. It is rather unnerving and quite saddening to look back over the disassembly of our family holiday traditions. Again, there is change happening as we speak, set in motion by my mother's passing. Everything changes. That is the one constant in life. I just wish I still had my mother here with me now. I wish that had not changed. But it did, so now I find myself in a constant everyday adjustment process. I think everyday for the rest of my life will be an adjustment. It seems sometimes like it gets worse over the time span of the first year, not better. It has been four and a half months now, since she was with me. I think the shock has worn off. I still find myself in days of disbelief. I know she is gone but I cannot believe it. I was there with her every step of the way, and it's still a crazy concept to me to be without my mother. So it goes. Until next time...<br />
</div>gingerssnapshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12754274779403650715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8875614933692657294.post-38750328945064740982012-02-22T10:15:00.001-08:002012-02-22T12:47:17.907-08:00Hold On Forever<div><p><a href="http://griefchronicles.blogspot.com">Dear Mom, hello it's me again.  Today I decided on a way to constructively express my grief over losing you.  I have started this blog to get it all out, and to chronicle my journey as I navigate this life without you. I had a good cry today, as today marks three months since you  went to be with your lord and savior. I know you are rejoicing in heaven, but I miss you so very badly.  Not a day goes by that you are not in my thoughts.  I miss you every single day. This is the third monthly anniversary of your passing.  It is on this day , the twenty second of every month, that it is the hardest. Hayden talks about you almost every day.  I have made and will keep making sure that she never forgets you, as I promised. The other day I wished I could pick up the phone and call you.  I just wanted to hear your voice on the phone for one of our almost daily conversations.  Dad is taking us all to Disney on Ice, as you wanted to do this year.  I wish you could go with us.  I wish you could see your beautiful granddaughter.  In certain faces and expressions Hayden makes, she reminds me of you. I wish you were not gone.  I wish you had not been so sick, so that you could have done all the things you wanted to with Hayden.  I frequently look at pictures of you, us, and the family.  I look and I look, but they are no substitution for you. Having to go through this sucks.  It is the hardest thing I have ever had to do.  I don't think the pain ever goes away.  I think you just learn how to deal with the grief better.  You learn to hide the pain, so you can figure out a new funtioning normal.  I wish you were here, so that I could help you wash you hair, so I could help put your favorite fuzzy socks on, so I could blow dry and style your hair, and so that I could hug you and hold on forever. Hayden is singing to cheer me up...ok enough crying for today.  On to dancing and chocolate bunnies!  I love you momma!</a></p>
<br/><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6qf_1EjD46161jjmnGyhOKeSSACHnfNPlc6E9Q6w-7VUNZ-MsQxVEYqpQKiuZyuPqQNDN69A4XLm4aJK0LeahXunW4qJVN_oAtSiuCAHKCwZaHJiPwzZTIp31bGQnKMh1-IPrYfpQb77E/' /></div>gingerssnapshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12754274779403650715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8875614933692657294.post-43135172826090366632012-02-22T10:13:00.001-08:002013-02-21T13:29:26.369-08:00Hardest Day Yet<div>
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Today marks 2 months since I last spent the day with you, last held your hand, last run my fingers through your hair, last spoke with you, last time I gazed into your beautiful green eyes, last time I wiped your tears, last handed you kleenex, last tucked you in, and the last time I gazed upon the face that I loved most in all the world, my mothers. I am heartbroken without you. Today I cannot stop the tears that run unchecked down my face, for I miss you so very badly. I just want to call or drop by and tell you all about Andy and Stacy's baby shower, and my surgery, and cute lil things that Hayden does, but I cannot. We've all been doing alright, but we all have our days where the grief is overwhelming. Today is my hardest day so far. I am, as Andy said, in pieces without you. It's the first 2 months in my life that I haven't talked to my mother, seen my mother, or helped my mother. You will always be my mother, my best friend. There are no more words to express my grief over losing you....I love you mommy!</div>
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gingerssnapshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12754274779403650715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8875614933692657294.post-242455333080231292012-02-22T10:07:00.001-08:002013-02-21T13:32:44.205-08:00Gratitude<div>
Today I have found the words...I would like to express my deepest gratitude to the best friends and family a girl could ask for. Thank you to Julie Cochran for driving from Beckley to babysit so we could make funeral arrangments. Thank you to Libby Salyers for listening on my first Thanksgiving without my mother. Thank you to Amy Farley for being there everyday, for midnight Black Friday Walmart shopping, for along with your husband Jeff Farley, kidnapping Ben and I from all the sadness and madness, to escape for a little while. Amy you have been my lifeline. Who else would understand the need to honor my moms request, and insist on going with me, and then having Libby and Chad join us to make it a rainbow party? Thank you Amy for dinner and my fishbowl, and Libby and Chad Salyers for accompanying us for our lil Carla celebration dinner! Thank you to Angie Miles, Debbie Michael for my first threeway breakdown, and to you and the girls for the food. Thank you to Melissa and Teresa Cisco, and Amy for the food and paper products. Thank you to Erin Hutchinson for the food, sharing the preview,and our little girls playdate. Thank you Linda for the food and my daddies favorite cake. Thank you Libby for the Angel to remember my mommies green eyes. Thank you to all the Rainbow girls for the beautiful memorial service for my momma, she was smiling down from heaven, it meant so very much. You all meant so very much to her. Thank you to my mommies grand family for all being there for her Eastern Star service. Thank you to my daddies co workers for supporting him, and for the food Jessica. Thank you to Comer, Goof, Jessica, Jeremy and Means for being there for my brother. Thank you to Vickie and Jim Wannall, Jean and Tom Reedy, Alex and Thomas Harris(and AJ)for just being there for me. Thank you to Stacy Wright for being my brothers rock, his soul mate, and for taking care of my daddy. That lil one sure is a lucky lil guy to have you for his mommy. Thank you to my daddy for being here for me too. Thank you to everyone for any little thing you may have done, a kind word, food, flowers, hugs, shoulders to cry on, from my family and I. We are forever in your debt. Lastly, thank you to my wonderful husband, Benjamin Harris. Thank you for always knowing what I need, always taking such good care of me, of my family, for cooking Thanksgiving dinner as mom and I had planned, for making our house the gathering place, for Dad and Andys first WVU tailgate party without mom, for doing the dishes, the laundry, for taking care of Hayden, for giving me space when I needed a little, for cleaning, for arranging babysitters, for being my soul mate and my rock, all without a word. I love you more than words and would be lost without you. I am a lucky girl! </div>
gingerssnapshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12754274779403650715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8875614933692657294.post-69958285707356651262012-02-22T10:01:00.001-08:002013-02-21T13:28:44.648-08:00Firsts<div>
One moment, one memory, one day at a time...please keep my family, and all those who have lost someone dear to them recently, in your prayers this holiday season. Everything is a first without her...first hospital trip without my mommy by my side, dads first night, and every night in a big ol empty house alone filled with her memories, Andy's joy for his unborn son that she will never know, christmas shopping without her, decorating without her...this season is filled with laughter and tears for our family. Christmas was her favorite holiday. Please lord, let there be more laughter than tears and help us through this difficult time! </div>
gingerssnapshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12754274779403650715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8875614933692657294.post-22480206990730313942012-02-22T09:54:00.001-08:002013-02-21T13:28:18.402-08:005 Days,, Last Request, and A Holiday...<div>
Dear Mom, I have honored your last requests. I have led our broken family through our first Thanksgiving together without you, Ben cooked the menu you and I planned on the phone together. There were lots of tears, sadness, love, laughter, and togetherness. Amy took me to do you makeup, like only I knew how. We laughed, giggled, reminisced, and remembered you. We had a last girls party with you! Libby and Chad came as well. It was like old times, except you were looking down on us from heaven laughing with us, as I did your makeup, as promised. You look gorgeous. We then had dinner together in memory of you. Thank you for my sunrise of purple and gold streaming through my window this morning, in answer to my prayer. I took lots of pictures. The purple clouds above my house were beautiful. Were getting through this mommy, together. Its hard not to rejoice over your wonderful life and legacy ,as you are sending peace to me. I am so very proud of Daddy and Andy. They are so strong and they don't even know it. That's you in them. You were the strongest woman I have ever know, and you taught us all how to be strong by your example. I was blessed to be you daughter! Thank you!<br />
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gingerssnapshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12754274779403650715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8875614933692657294.post-89534074096010822442012-02-22T09:42:00.001-08:002013-02-21T13:27:54.908-08:0032 Hours After<div>
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Dear God, I am thankful for my mother and every minute that I had her. I am thankful for the three voicemails I still have from her. I am thankful for you choosing me to be this great ladies cherished daughter. I am thankful that we were so close and that we were best friends. I am thankful for the cold cold air outside that is helping me breathe at the moment. I am thankful that I held her hand the last two days of her human life here on earth, and maybe helped her a little. I am thankful for the strength to be the strong one, and make the calls, and make the decisions. I am thankful that we all made it through the first day without her, together. I am so thankful for my husband. Shock is starting to wear off, and the hole is getting bigger....so like Hayden says dear lord, I need a little bit of help today. Help me to find that peace I have had the last three days, that has run away overnight. A mere 24 hours after you took her home to be with her, is Thanksgiving day, and I have to lead my grieving, heartbroken family through it. Her last request was planning turkey day menu with me at my house, so Ben is cooking her menu, we are honoring that request. Thankful for all the best friends, family, extended family I have pulling me through this...dear god I just need a lil bit o help right now. Amen! ... </div>
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gingerssnapshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12754274779403650715noreply@blogger.com0