Monday, October 22, 2012

Two years gone by

Two years ago today, mom died.

Depending on how I look at it, it feels like forever or it feels like it was just yesterday.  Mostly it feels like it was yesterday.

I still cry a lot when I think of her. 

I'm 42 now.  When my mom was 42, I was 14 years old.  Wow!  I knew my mom when she was YOUNG, and didn't even realize it!  When you're a kid, everything seems different.  It's hard to grasp time and age concepts. 

It's quiet at the house without mom. 

After two years, I notice strange things.  I notice that the windows haven't been washed, and I wince and put it on my mental to-do list.  (Mom had a seasonal schedule for that.) 

I notice the dust on the mantle. 

I notice that family photos never made it back up after the living room was emptied for new flooring last year.

I notice that moms clothespin apron is in the exact same place it was on top of the the last time she put it there.

I notice that most of her baking supplies haven't been touched...which means they are far older than two years and should probably be thrown away now.

I notice that you can put something somewhere...and it might not get moved for months, if at all.  It's strange.  It's the same house, but the things in it have been granted a different lifestyle. 

I notice that the underbrush in the woods has grown up, and when I went out to trim the wilderness back, I could see moms old pruning cuts.  I had no idea she even did that!  I never thought about it.

I now use the upstairs level of the house when I'm here, and I notice that there are no less than 5 old toothbrushes in the bathroom.  And some of them look suspiciously like childrens toothbrushes.  Could it be?  No!  Certainly mom would have thrown out Kurts (and mine) old toothbrushes.  But maybe not.

I notice that this empty.  It's almost just a house now.  Dad talks of selling it, and moving to assisted living.  The entire upstairs is empty.  It's still got the same paint and rugs in it that each of us picked out back in 1980.

This used to be a vibrant, thriving home

We take so much for granted as we grow up.

My mother made this her home.