Passed Parents

If could see you once more, we would have lunch, on me. I’d order French onion soup, and you’d order the BLT. the waitress smiles and forgets your soda, but you never mind, you just call her back over. She brings your drink and asks if we’re all set, i say yes, but we’re not quite done yet.

If we could talk and gossip just one more day, i would have to write out a script so i don’t forget what to say, there’s just too much to fill you in on, there’s no time to delay. I would tell you of the pandemic and of black lives matter, you’d say of course they do, you would raise up a clatter, you’d let your opinions be known, you’d belt your voice out loud, you would speak all day until you draw a crowd.

If we could share one more car ride, i would take all the wrong turns. I would do 15 in a 50 there would be no burning of rubber, bumper to bumper I’d find traffic for us to sit in. I’d pop all four tires and assure us a long listen, of 92.3 and all your favorite pop songs; I’d drag this last car ride out, all day long.

If i could hold you once more, it wouldn’t be enough, I’d cry and cry, the exact opposite of tough. if you could pick me up and dust me off and kiss my bruises once again, I’d feel comforted and reminded, that you were my first best friend. One more smile, and one more kiss, my hearts forever broken, you will always be missed.

mom xoxox

Mommy Oh Mommy (a poem)

Mommy oh mommy where have you gone,
Why do they keep saying it’s darkest before dawn,
Why does this life make me feel like a pawn,
Mommy oh mommy where have you gone

My grief comes in oceans and rivers and streams
I’m okay one minute; the next I’m bursting at my seams
Somedays people say things they don’t really mean,
My grief like oceans and rivers and streams

My outlook of coming days is rather dim,
I shut the windows and blinds so the light can’t get in, I try and I try but my tears always win
My outlook of coming days is always so dim

Mommy oh mommy where have you gone? What I would give for you to sing one last song, mommy oh mommy my grief comes in waves, the light never shining on my cloudy days. Mommy oh mommy, why can’t I hold you near, a horrible nightmare, my biggest fear

Mommy oh mommy where have you gone, ever since you left us, smiling has felt wrong.

Unlucky 13

July 13, 2020 will be your four months gone. It also happens to be your 19th wedding anniversary. We knew trouble would arise when you were married to Vin on July 13, 2001, it was a Friday. Go figure, right? You left us on March 13, 2020, it was also a Friday. Too much coincidence to count it as coincidence. It felt like balance was coming to us, almost sickening to think about. But for days after you left us, Friday the thirteenth rang in our minds.

The next Friday the thirteenth is November 2020. That will be 8 months without you. And I’m sure it will not be any easier. Often times 13 is associated with death.
“The number 13 brings the test, the suffering and the death. It symbolises the death to the matter or to oneself and the birth to the spirit: the passage on a higher level of existence. (In Tarot, no. 13 card is named as Death”(directly from google)

Thirteen also stands for femininity. Seeing as we have 13 menstrual periods a year. Thirteen full moons a year. All of feminism origin. I often think about thirteen things, any thirteen things. Thirteen things grief has taught me. Or you taught me. Or things I’m grateful for. I try to incorporate the number into my daily life, so that it’s less triggering and shocking to me when it appears before me. There are other things that happen that remind me you are near. Multiple sneezes. You always said it reminded you of your grandmother, and now it reminds us of you. Christmas movies in June, baking cookies in the middle of the night. So much reminds me of you. But it’s important to remind myself it’s good to remember.

A couple months ago a friend of mine sent me two bracelets. One said “endurance” which i was in great need of when receiving these, and the other said “love remembers” and I’ve worn that everyday, in thoughts of you. I see you everywhere i turn. When my eyes are closed i see your smile. Miss you mom.

xoxox

The Firsts

When you have a large family, you tend to be reminded of who is missing, quite often. People often talk of how hard the firsts are without their parents. The first year anniversary of them being gone is a big one. Christmas and thanksgiving are for sure to sting. Their birthday. Your birthday. All of them are shocking when it is the first time ever your parent wasn’t there. Didn’t call you. Didn’t slave for hours baking you a cake. Or dinner. Or staying up late to wrap presents. The stress of those responsibilities now falling on you— also make these firsts hard.

My mom died in mid March. by the end of march, and the end of April both my father and my sister had birthdays. Then Mother’s Day followed shortly after. Which was the hardest day of any of our lives so far. Shortly after was my grandmas birthday. My moms first birthday gone, and now in less than 20 days i will be turning 23. And my mom won’t be able to call me. The person who threw my first ever birthday (my birth) is gone. I cannot begin to think about the stress that day is going to bring me. the ultimate connection one person can have with another. Being born of a person. Feeding off of them for nine months- to be nurtured as long as I had been. It’s heartbreaking for her to not enjoy this day with me. Because it’s as much mine as it is hers.

After my birthday will be both my brothers birthdays, Halloween, thanksgiving. Christmas, my youngest sisters birthday, and then a new year. All without the one who made us, us. Without the person who prepared every holiday meal and helped with every project. The person who kissed us each night before bed, and each morning at breakfast. The first year isn’t even over yet and still I sit and grieve the days to come.

And I cannot shake the feeling that the seconds and thirds and fourths are just as hard. I don’t think anything will ever be easy again. The wind will always whisper her name. The rain will paint pictures of her smile on the sidewalk and a calendar has no meaning anymore because day without you is never counted. I’m not here to say it will never get easier. But I do believe it will always be hard.

Peace and love be with you all on this Father’s Day. My heart is with all of you whose father is a little “farther” than you would like.

The Journey Begins

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton

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Happy Birthday Mom

Yesterday was 3 months with my mom passing, today is her birthday. She would have been 41 today. The following is simply a Facebook post i made in memory of my mom. Writing this inspired me to continue writing about her— for others. I hope i inspire you to write about your loved one.

Happy birthday mama. I miss you more than there are words to write. I miss your toothy grin, even if you hated your teeth. I wish i could have fixed them for you, i always planned on it, you know. I wish we were able to start walking together. We were planning to walk with your granddaughter winter and your nephews and Riley, every week. I really wish that one had worked out. I was supposed to buy you a house one day. I wanted it to be perfect with a big kitchen and lots of extra bedrooms, so your kids could always stay the night. I wanted to give you everything you ever gave me, but ten fold because you deserve it.

Grief is odd. It’s misunderstandings and confusion and headaches and tears. It’s being afraid. And anxious, it’s being held back and pushed forward at the same time. You’d be proud of how everyone is doing. We spend more time together than i ever imagined, your spirit always in the midst of us. Our favorite things now include getting away with things you’d never let us do, cooking every single night (which you hated doing, but usually did anyway) and watching new movies and shows you would have loved.

I wonder what you would have thought about Covid? About #blacklivesmatter. You’ve always been opinionated, where do you think i got it from? I wonder what your last few thoughts were, if you knew we were all around you in the hospital bed. If you felt your mother holding onto your arms and not letting go. I often wonder how you felt in those last moments. When all we selfishly thought about was our lives without you. I wonder if you were in pain, (the nurses said you weren’t, they medicated you) but i wonder if you had the same hole in your heart, that we have now. I wonder if you knew you were going before we did. I try not to remember what you looked like in the hospital bed, late that Friday night. But i cannot remember the last time i saw you breathe out, and smile. I cannot place the last call we had. I wish i could wrap some memories up and put them in my pocket for when i needed your smile. Or your wisdom. Or a good old fashion smack in the head. I want to call you and ask for you to call my bank, because i am too afraid to dispute something on my card. I want to ask how /you/ roasted your chicken, so that it would taste exactly like yours. There’s so many questions i want to ask you, some questions i don’t even know to ask yet. I wanted you to be there for baptisms and weddings and births. You were supposed to be a grumpy old woman, like Sophia from golden girls (your fave) i do my makeup like you used to when you were 22. Dark eyes. Brown shimmery lip. Takes me back to watching you do yours in the bathroom before work.

We have so many things in common. I used to joke about seeing mason every time i looked in the mirror; but now your face haunts mine, like Casper, friendly, warm and inviting. You have made me into everything i am, and will come to be. your smile sits on Riley’s face now. Your eyes on masons. Your attitude in Aaliyah. Your fun loving self resides in dad. And vin somehow is maternal and soft. And i got your strength. Every single ounce. And i know it because if i didn’t, i would have given up three months ago, but instead, i begged God to understand and protect. To forgive and heal. To hold and foster my family until we felt ready to let you go. And i was so blessed to get exactly that.

So many people are to thank for making these past few months bearable. My family and i have definitely felt the love, support, prayers and thoughts that have been sent our way. We have felt sheltered by Gods love and fostered by his people. The outpouring of love has been tremendous and i am so grateful. Happy birthday mommy. For your death yesterday, and your life today. You will always be my hero. My best friend. My first love. My first enemy. My favorite chef. My favorite hug. And I’ll always be the girl who made you a mom.

At 15 i used to scream and at you and wish i was never born. Today i stand grateful that i was. And that you never gave up on me, and you always loved me, and kissed me, and held me, until you couldn’t any longer. Happy 41st birthday mom. I can’t believe you get to be young forever! Your day will be spent with family, making your favorite dinner. And telling stories, watching videos, and making new memories all with you in mind.

Michelle A. Leonardo June 14, 1979 – March 13, 2020 ❤️