This is your second Birthday in Heaven. Funny how I miss you like it was yesterday that we said goodbye.
I remember how we celebrated in years gone past. "hey Mom, what do you want to do for your birthday"... You'd always say, "oh, you don't have to do anything." Then I'd press, and you'd have a whole days agenda planned. Breakfast, and a trip to the ocean, lunch at Newicks and Daiquiris on the deck at sunset. Most likely flowers would be involved... at the end of the day you'd say, "the best part was just spending time with you." I wish now, that I'd spent more time with you. What I wouldn't give for just one more day.
Your rhododendron is doing great, planted out back by the fireplace. The kids are well, your "neighbor" Tommy is out of the navy now and lives right down the street. He misses you too. J is doing well, glad to be done with HS and finding out how fun this adulting thing is. She seems to have a new respect for me, or is at least more empathetic to my feelings, since I lost you. I think it's the first time she's seen something hit me as profoundly as this, and she treads gently with lots of hugs.
As for me, I'm considering a new job. Working overnight in the hospice house is draining, and I don't know, Mom. Since your death, and the others ... I just don't seem to have the passion any more. Gonna go back to On call. You always laughed at how I like to "put out fires" as you called it. Remember all those times I'd have to take notes for me, when we were driving somewhere and I'd get a call. You'd remind me to put in my mileage, and mutter things like, "give me a break, don't they know the morphine will help them?" and "geesh, they're on narcotics, even I know they've gotta have a bowel program!"
So, as you know, Jim died. His pancreatic cancer took him so quickly! 2 months from dx to death. I was so very blessed and honored to be asked to take care of him for those 2 months. I did my job, and what I promised him I'd do. He was always comfortable, his dignity was maintained. I wish I had been afforded the time to care for you in the same way, but I know that your quick death was the best thing for you. You didn't have time to be scared or short of breath. You were just sleepy and passed. Such a merciful thing for you and your anxiety laden mind. I'm glad I was right there, holding your hand. I hope Jim's still bringing you the papers and telling you corny jokes. (grin)
Terry died too, just last week. That happened quickly as well, they called that he was less responsive on Friday, and he died on Monday. Again, I was fortunate enough to be right there, holding his hand and giving him love as he took his last breath. Funny, you know how he layed there, waiting to die for 2 yrs... then it happens, and there's this big hole. I guess, more accurately, that the hole is just bigger and bigger with each loss. Eh, I'll muddle thru. You know how it is.
I hear you once in awhile. I'm grateful for all the times I've said out loud, "Hey Mom, can you help me find this..." and I know you're chuckling as you put whatever it is, right at my fingertips. Several times after asking, you've shown me to what I've lost, usually my debit card. I remember when Tim would go on TDY, after a couple days you'd text me and ask, "so, have you lost the checkbook yet?" lol.
You've stopped to visit me in my dreams once too. Recently you woke me up when it was time for work. I woke to your voice, clear as day, saying, "Becky, it's time to wake up now." I wish you had stayed, but I appreciate the touch.
Well Mom, I guess that's it for now. I don't really know about this heaven/afterlife thing, but if it exists, I hope you're up there doing the things you love. Is there a big casino in the sky? Hope you're there... Drink in one hand, butt in the other, winning big and shouting, "yeeha!" Keep an eye out for Terry, he's got a huge hug for ya, straight from Alton NH.
I love you Mom.