Gifts From Heaven

A few weeks ago, my family ended up gathered in my mother’s now sparse bedroom. She had boxes of trinkets, mementos, and photographs, so we all began the emotional visit to the land of nostalgia, almost 8 months after her passing.

Within my father’s wallet, which she obviously kept after his death in 1986, were three photos of the two of us, tucked inside. I had never before seen these pictures of my father and me and I’ll be 46 later this year.

Here are two of them.

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Top Photo: Looking happy and handsome! Bottom Photo: There’s an enraptured me listening intently as my dad reads The Night Before Christmas.

The top one is my favorite and made me start to cry! Look at how happy I was and my dear daddy looking so handsome. How I loved him so and still do. The death of my mother last May has brought many old emotions to the top and I find myself missing the other people that I’ve lost even more so.

The idea that my dad had these pictures of the two of us with him in his wallet just amazes me. Maybe they were his favorite?

Whatever the reason they’ve been hidden away for so long, seeing them for the first time was like receiving a gift from heaven.

My daughter is going to get the top one enlarged for me because it makes me so happy.

I Carry On

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My daughter has been sick the last couple of days with a nasty stomach flu.

And as her mother, I’ve been tending to her while she rests on the couch, rather miserable.

It doesn’t matter that she’ll be 23 years old next month. She’s still my baby girl and as long as I am able, I will take care of her.

Because that’s what a mother does for her child.

Taking care of my sick little girl (she’ll always be little to me) makes me realize how incredibly lucky I am to have this kind of love in my life.

I miss my own mom more and more as each day passes.

Yet I carry on…as she once did for me.

A Halloween Story

One Halloween, we were handing out candy. This older boy came up dressed like an Emo kid, dark clothes and black eyeliner.
My mom smiled up at him and asked, “What are you dressed as?”
“I’m Emo,” he replied.
Mom looked confused.
“You’re Elmo?”

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It still cracks me up when I think of it.

Happy Halloween, Mom. I miss you.