Pass, please.

I’m not a commercial holiday kind of girl.  I’m sure there are a million posts sitting in my Bloglovin’ reader just waiting to be read telling me how awesome Mother’s Day is.  I’m sure they are great posts.  I may read them.  Maybe.

I can remember the first time I “celebrated” Mother’s Day with my mom.  I was about 2 months pregnant and I was in town visiting for the weekend.  I surprised her that morning with a frame that said, “Hi Grandma” and a picture of Ava’s ultrasound.  She squealed with excitement. She was so happy.  We went to church that morning with my grandparents.  When it was time for all of the mothers to stand up and be honored and receive a small gift, I stood up.  I was so proud.  I grew up in that church and watched all the mothers get up each year.  I never gave it much thought.

Till it was my turn.

My grandma was standing smiling, my mom was standing next to me, and I was grinning like a fool waiting for my grandma to notice.  Then she realized what was going on and was so excited.  It was awesome.

The next year was incredibly different.  We didn’t go to church, no one was squealing with joy.

My mom was sick. Very.

This time Ava was five months old.

And my mom had been battling cancer for about 10 months.

This time was the last time.

P1000470I was sitting next to her wheelchair as we ate the steaks that my grandpa carefully grilled for us.  My mom liked her meat rare for some reason then.  I still remember we were watching her as she slowly and carefully ate, the blood nearly dripping from her steak.  She looked at us with the fire in her eyes that had gone dormant, and she joked about being a vampire. Or liking blood. Or something.  We were so caught off guard that she was trying to be silly that we both stopped and then started to laugh.

She was tiny.  She was weak.

She wasn’t my mom.  The cancer had spread everywhere and had fundamentally changed her personality.

It sucked.

Hard.

I night she went to the hospital.

That Friday she died.

It was our first and last Mother’s Day with Ava.

So yeah, I prefer to pass these two weeks.  I think about Allie’s birthday and how she’ll be turning 2. But the happiness is bittersweet because my heart breaks knowing that my mom never got to see her.  Allie is a tiny ball of fire.  She looks like me and my mom.  She’s so silly and spunky.  I wanted them both to know her.  I think of all the coulda shoulda woulda if she was here.

And I just want to pass.

All of it.

I got some good advice on Saturday after pretty much breaking down during a run that I went on to escape the sads. Now if I could just make my brain cooperate and heed the advice. It had been a long time since I’d been hit that hard.  It hurt. I swear sometimes it just can’t be real.

Even 7 years later.

Advertisements

16 thoughts on “Pass, please.

  1. Love you Jessica…you made me cry. You deserve to enjoy your mother’s day…your mom would want it that way. I’m sure she was smiling down at you and your precious girls. Sending positive energy and big hugs your way. Jamye

    • Jamye, I’ve thought about your comment since I read it. Thank you. I’m so glad I can share a little piece of me with you through this blog. You may know me better than most people in El Paso. Love you.

  2. I don’t have words that will help to figure out how to make it better … and I cannot begin to understand. BUT maybe one day you can turn the painful Mother’s Day weekend into a beautiful celebration of your mother, for your Ava … She will never know her personally, but she can get to know her through you, via you and because of you. Hugs, babe.

  3. Yep. My last holiday with Mom was Mother’s Day (5 years ago). 2 weeks later, she died. She died in the pajamas I bought for her that Mother’s Day. It’s really just too much. I’m so happy to be a Mom and to have E, but truly, the day is just too much. The month is too much with the roller coaster of emotions (married in May, found out I was pregnant in May, Mother’s day, Mom died… just too much). Last night, I fell apart… and then… went to run to erase some of the hurt. Today is better. May is halfway over. I got this! You do too, friend!

What do YOU have to say?

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s