Two days after my Mother passed, it was Mother’s Day. My Boyfriend and I were still at her house, wrapping things up. It was my last day before I was to return to NYC. As I’ve mentioned, I now have a really inappropriate habit of writing things in my head before they happen. Picturing how things will unfold and how I’ll feel about them. Since Mother’s Day was the day I was supposed to be in NYC participating in the race I’d been training for, I thought I would post a picture on Facebook and Instagram of my feet in my new running shoes with the caption being something about how I was supposed to be in NYC to run in the Mother’ Day Race, but instead I was home after saying goodbye to my own sweet Mother. And then I’d state that I was still going to run the four miles in her honor.
And that I loved her.
I thought this would be a lovely tribute. But in reality the reason I wanted to do it was more selfish. One thing I’d realized was that I’d rather everyone just find out at once, rather than have to awkwardly respond to various individual texts and messages from friends who didn’t know, them saying, “Hey!! What’s been going on? Are you getting excited for the move home?? 🙂 ”
Continue reading May Flowers. Part Four. →
If someone would have told me this next part of the story before, I would have said, “Oh, isn’t that sweet? Trying to hold onto some part of your loved one while they passed? Well, whatever you have to do,” and then probably awkwardly patted their hand.
But it’s true, I know the exact moment my Mother passed. I had spent the morning at her side, saying all the things I ever wanted to say to her, because although she had never regained consciousness, I truly believed she could hear me every time I was there. But I never actually said goodbye because I was afraid that would scare her. After I wracked my brain to make sure there was nothing left to say, I told the nurses I was ready.
And then I left.
Continue reading May Flowers. Part Three. →
“So, what’s going on with Bradley?” Caitlyn asked, as she took a sip of Prosecco.
“Oh yeah,” Marlie said. “Weren’t you supposed to see him last weekend?”
It was the Friday before Valentine’s Day and we’d met for Happy Hour at one of our favorite Upper East Side spots. “I was,” I said, nodding. “But there was some confusion on it all…”
“What do you mean?” asked Caitlyn.
I sat back into the black leather couch and looked up at the pink chandelier that hung over our table. I took a deep breath. “Well, I thought we were getting together and then…” I shook my head. “He went on vacation to Mexico or something? I don’t know. It was weird.”
“Oh,” said Marlie, “Well, I’m sure you’ll hear from him.”
I took a sip of my Pacifico, which I’d settled for, as this bar doesn’t have Bud Light. I know, what kind of a place doesn’t have Bud Light? Continue reading Oh. Is it Valentine’s Day? →