New Normal

It's been just over four weeks since my Mama shuffled off this mortal coil. I thought that I was ready or prepared for what I was gonna feel after she was gone, but in reality . . . there's no preparing for that. I think it really hit me one day when I was getting my hair done. Here I am in a salon, one that she used to work at, surrounded by laughter and the sound of blow dryers. My Desi's assistant was washing my hair and it hit me that my Mom was never gonna wash my hair again. If any of you had my mom wash your hair . . . You know what a treat that it was. Anyway, up until that moment I think I had this sliver of secret hope that she would miraculously get better, bounce back and want me to take her to the Bellagio. See, the thing is, I actually enjoy my parents. I'm close with them and I always have been. I legit loved the company of my Mother. I loved just hanging with her. Watching the food network, chilling in her little dollhouse, hate watching awards shows. Whatever we did, I just loved to be with her. She wasn't just my Mom, she was my dearest friend, and now that she's gone . . . I'm a little lost as to what to do with myself. I left my job back in April, and I'm enjoying being off work, and I'm happy that I got to spend the time with my Mama . . . But what now?

I went to a meeting and dinner with my friend the other night and I saw Stein Mart and just started bawling. She loved to walk around Stein Mart and just look at stuff. It's those quirks of who she was that I miss. So, I'm sad, and I'm trying to move forward but some days . . . Well, some days are just harder than others. I'm so beyond grateful for my sweet hubby who takes such good care of me, and my Dad, who was by her side and mine the day she passed. My Mom went out on her own terms and surrounded by the people that she loved and that loved her so much. Me, my Pop, My Aunties and Uncle and one of mom's dear friends. Her service was beautiful and touching. I feel like the world has kept spinning but mine has kinda stopped. My garage smells like her, and I have her teapots up in my kitchen and some of her art on my walls. I know that she'll never really leave me, but not being able to smell her, hug her, hear her voice . . . All those seemingly little things that we take for granted about our loved ones.

So, I'll press on and live one day at a time, talk about her, share memories of her and do my best to be a little more like her every day. I've said this before and I'll say it always . . . Hug your Mama.