Mommie and Me...

One year ago today I got the news that my Mommie had passed away. I was a 41 year old woman. From the time I was very young, I had heard that my mother was dying. It came as a total shock when she did die. Someone in her family, not mentioning any names but we call her the Martyr, stated it was expected. Really? No it wasn't. From the time we were kids Paul's mother would come home from the doctors and tell us, " he doesn't give me that long to live. Maybe six months tops." Year after year after year after year we heard this. At one point, we heard it from her doctor ourselves. She was even put on disability. She had congestive heart failure numerous times. She was even dead once or twice, but they worked on her until she came back. And come back she did with a vengeance. There was no stopping this woman, we believed she would live forever and when and if she died, it would be a long drawn out process and the woman would go ugly. U G L Y. With tubes and cords and screams.

A few years back she had a stroke and that scared us all, but then she had carotid artery surgery and went home in a cab the next day and said that hospital sucked. Gotta love her. So how exactly was this death expected? Well, death is expected for us all. It comes at one time or another. But did we think on September 3rd, 2008 Paul's Mother was going to leave us, quietly in her own home with a cigarette and lighter in front of her? Hell no. Does it hurt as much today as it did one year ago when I was called and told, not really. It's a different pain now. When Lana-Rose first growled at me, yes she growls, I wanted to call her and tell her.

I used to call her at lunch from my work to see how she was doing and chat about her cock sucking neighbors. I have called her number now and again from work, but she's no longer there. That's hard. She drove me crazy, absolutely nuts. What I wouldn't give to hear her voice one more time on my phone screaming about her cock sucking neighbors. Or telling me how JuneBug called her and said Nana. Or hear her stories of Aiden and how she made him special soup, or how Kali-Kins is her lil girl and how they played tea sets together or how Kam-Kam was her blond lil tow headed grandson who yelled Nana and wrapped his arms around her and how it almost made her cry. I'd even listen to her tell me about her bowel movements which it seems all elderly become obsessed with. I'd love to hear her tell the cashier at the supermarket how mayonnaise makes her bleed out her pores or eggs put her right in to a coma.

I miss my mother, I'm not going to tell you to go call yours though. I remember how I barely survived with any sanity intact after finishing a phone call with her, but I am going to tell you at some point, when they are gone, you will miss them. It will hurt not to hear their voice on your phone. That even at 41 years old, you still feel like an orphan.

Miss you Mommie, Love you Mommie, Mean it