Remember...

 

It's been seventy-nine days. 

Eleven Saturdays and eleven Sundays.

Eighteen hundred and ninety-six hours.

You've missed two federal holidays. 

And I've missed you every single second you've been gone.

Life has gone on, as I knew it would, but nothing is the same.

I've done the things you would have wanted me to. We went to see George Strait the day after your funeral. You were right--he did fill the stadium with more people than the Aggie football team ever has. He sang most of our favorite songs.

I hosted the neighborhood book club the following week. It was a huge success. You know how over-the-top I can get with things. 

The book we read was The Women, and since it centered around the Vietnam War and took place in the 1960s-70s, I asked everyone to dress for that era, and we ate favorite foods from the time period. Each member honored veterans from their family by bringing photos. Everyone shared their story, and at the end of the night, we were all united by the shared love of country and reading. You would have loved it!

We began emptying your house. Mamacita's furniture looks so beautiful in Charles' old bedroom. I'm so fortunate to have my great-grandmother's furniture, especially since I was born on her birthday. The bedroom is now referred to as the Mamacita and Mother Room. 

I've scattered photos of you and Dad on the dresser, chest of drawers, and shelves. I find comfort when I'm in the room, but right now, I can't stay there too long. 

The first time Cooper saw the room, he said, "Whoah!"

While carefully going through your things, and packing the special keepsakes, we were reminded of so many wonderful times. Your house was filled with so many memories, some we remembered well, others caused our hearts to flutter a bit as we were taken back to times we had almost forgotten.

Greg has been amazing. He has had the immense burden of being the executor of the will. While there was a great deal to do, your preparedness made that easier for him. I'm so thankful for that gift. 

In every step of the process, we have been met with an abundance of sympathy, empathy, and kindness. You were so well-loved and respected, and we have been filled with pride and gratitude for being your children.

Scooter is enjoying life with Cleo. I'm sure her resemblance to you is comforting. She's had him on a diet, limiting his eating times to a couple of times a day. He's actually lost a few pounds. Scooter says that life is good, but he still misses you and the never-ending bowl/supply of cat food.

We had the estate sale and it was a huge success. From what I've heard it was quite an occasion. Cars were lined up to the end of the neighborhood. People actually had to park on Appleby Sand Road. 

Although the sale began at eight o'clock, people started lining up at 6:00 a.m. At the end of the two days, only two pieces of furniture were left behind, a few articles of clothing, some books, and glassware. 

Many of your friends and former students came by, just wanting to find a little something to remember you by. The wonderful thing, though, is the love and memories you shared with so many will go with them for the remainder of their lives.

The house is now for sale. Greg and I went by the other day, after the estate sale, and the house was completely empty. 

It was so very sad, but we were reminded that your spirit isn't confined to that place. You are everywhere we are. 

You're in the subtle touch of a light summer breeze. And the beautiful hibiscus plant that a friend gave me. Although each flower only lives for a day, we have faith that another one will come tomorrow. While we hope for a new bloom, we are always surprised by the color of the flower. It's such a beautiful reminder of how God's mercies are new every morning. How great is his faithfulness.

As the political season moves along, I imagine all the thoughts and comments you would be sharing. As usual, you were right about so many things.

I hear your laugh when there is something funny that Cooper or Harper does. I imagine telling you about it. 

Just the other day when they were at our house, Harper saw a picture of you, me, Cooper and Harper. She pointed at it and said, "Gramma."

I knew, in that moment, you were with us.

As sad as it was, the night of your visitation, Cooper made some amazing connections. He said, "I sad. Gramma's not here." But he pointed upward and knew you were in heaven. Through your death, he had a better understanding of Jesus, and heaven. Thank you for teaching that lesson. Even in death you are guiding us, and leading us toward the Lord.

When I'm in the grocery store and I see soup, and Blue Bell ice cream, and corn bread, I think of you and some of your favorite things.

I hear your voice when I'm sad and feeling alone. I always manage to pick myself up and ready myself to conquer the world and whatever giants I'm facing. 

You taught me to have grit, but to also be sweet, kind, and polished. I'm still working on parts of that, but my hope every day is to strive to be more like you.

Cooper started Pre-K, and Harper is taking dance lessons. You would adore seeing her in her leotard and tutu-type skirt.

Cooper is living his best life at school--he eats breakfast at home, and then again at school! He takes his lunch and eats in the cafeteria! He asked Kaitlyn and Charles why they don't have waffles at home! I immediately thought of you--- you would have so enjoyed eating waffles with Cooper.

I'm back at work. It's been so hard. I'm so used to calling you on my way home. I've wondered many times why I came back to work, but every time that thought creeps in, I see the smile of a student, or get a sweet hug, or a funny story.

The other day when I arrived at work (I'm the first one here at 6:45) I knew you were with me. As I put my key into the lock on the door, a butterfly flitted between the door and me. It was yellow, and it's said that yellow butterflies are symbols of hope and happiness. At times those things seem so distant, but that day, hope and happiness were literally right in front of me.

I watched "Sleepless in Seattle" the other day. I remembered before you and I went to see it in the movie theater, we rented and watched the video "An Affair to Remember." You wanted me to understand the connection between that movie and "Sleepless in Seattle." Just like everything you did, you shared your knowledge and opened up my world a little more.

Aggie football begins this weekend. Tell Dad that hopefully this is the "maybe next year" we've been hoping for.

Brian is reminded of you often, and he and the boys, and Kaitlyn, Cooper and Harper all miss you. 

Life just isn't the same.

Thank you for the life you gave me. For the things you taught me. For our legacy. 

I do small things each day to keep you close. I try to always wear lipstick when I leave the house. I always sweep the porch and sidewalk before company comes. When decorating, or choosing clothing or applying makeup, I'm reminded of you always stating that "less is always more-except when it comes to swimsuits!"

I try to stay busy. But at times, I just want to rest. I want to remember. I want to do things that bring me joy.

I re-watched "You've Got Mail" for the millionth time. I remembered one of the reasons why I love that movie so much. It's the part with the photo of Kathleen's mother that is on the shelf in the bookstore her mother started. Joe Fox says, "Your mother was enchanting," and then Kathleen talks about her mother "twirling" her around in the photo.

And then the song "Remember" comes on. 

That's the song that plays in my mind when I think about you.

"Remember, is a place from long ago.

Remember, is filled with everything you know.

Remember, when you're sad and feelin' down.

Remember, turn around.

Remember, life is just a memory.

Remember, close your eyes and you can see.

Remember, think of all that life can be.

Remember."

I remember, Mother. You were enchanting.

And I miss you with every beat of my heart.