Letter to Mom #5

Dear Mom,

I'm not sure why I stopped putting words into print. I've composed letter after letter to you in my mind over the last few months, and yet, none of them materialized until now. Letter #5 is brought to you by pregnancy-induced insomnia.

You would've turned 55 last Friday. I went to the grave and brought you the same thing as last year: pink carnations and a pumpkin. And just like last year, I stood there crying like a small child. When comes the time when it gets easier?

Your first grandchild is due next week. When I was younger and imagined this time in my life, you were always ALWAYS there. My brain is still having trouble comprehending how I can be this close to experiencing something so wonderful without you by my side. The void you left has truly never felt so large.

Dad and I have been talking about ways to make sure my daughter knows about you. I think we could tell her a different story about you each day of her life and never paint a full picture.

Speaking of Dad, he sold the house a few months ago and moved. It was bittersweet. The new place is fine, but it's odd because now when I go visit him, I tell T that "I'm going to my dad's" instead of saying "I'm going home." 

It's after midnight and I'm fighting the urge to organize or clean because I can hear T sleeping in the other room and I don't want to wake him. Being close to my due date has brought out the worst of my OCD tendencies, but my exhaustion and swelling ankles ground me to the couch a lot of the time.

Being on maternity leave and grounded to said couch leaves me a lot of time to read People.com to stay up on all the celebrity gossip we used to follow. I have, however, managed to clean up my TV habits and am no longer watching a lot of the crappy reality shows that used to dominate my time. Progress.

I was about to put a hashtag in front of the word progress up there, but then it occurred to me that you might not even know what hashtags are. That makes it feel like you've been gone a long time. It's been more than two-and-a-half years... so maybe you have.

Anyway, please keep an eye on things when I'm in the delivery room next week or the week after. I'm really hoping I'll sense you there and that even though you're millions of miles away, you'll help me through it. It only seems fair since her middle name will be in honor of you.

Love,
Katie

Letter to Mom #4

Dear Mom,

It’s been awhile since I wrote, but don’t take it personally. I talk to you in my head all the time.

My winter slump has been extra slumpy this year. I’m desperate for a warm, sunny day. I know I’m not the only one.

If you’ve been paying attention to anything going on down here, you know that I’ve started taking a whole menu of pills to try convincing my body to get pregnant. Let’s hope it works, because I feel like crap. My doctor feels fairly confident it will work. I’m scared it won’t, and I wish I’d thought to ask you about your struggles to have kids when I had the chance.

I had lunch with your sister a few weeks ago. We talked for nearly four hours, and it was nice. Though you two were very different, there were moments in conversation when I could see you in her. I know you two weren’t super close, but it was evident that she really misses you.

Our garage door broke last weekend, and since it’s a detached garage with no normal door, we had to smash in a window with a crowbar to get inside. We managed to make a new window from plexi-glass, but need a new door and new springs. Good-bye, $1000.

Dad has a cold. It’s the worst cold he’s ever had (according to him). He said he misses having someone to whine to on a regular basis. If he could get into the habit of checking his email, he’d know that I email him constantly to see what’s going on and send him things I think he’d find interesting. I fear he’s too proud to ever let me take care of him, even though I’d do it gladly.

T and I went to the Auto Expo a few weeks ago and I sat in a Jeep Grand Cherokee. I don’t know if it’s because you drove a Jeep for so long or what, but those cars just feel so comfortable to me. When we get rid of my Civic, that Jeep is likely to be the next purchase.

I talked to Dad’s realtor the other day because he really is planning to sell the house this spring. He stripped almost all the wallpaper in the house (sorry, I know you loved that stuff) and has painted a lot of the first floor. He made a good paint choice too, which was shocking because I remember you two arguing over colors every time you remodeled a room.

In January, I went to your grave to build you a snowman and it started snowing while I was there in the Holy Family Garden. I think you made that happen because it wasn’t snowing anywhere else that I could see, so thanks for that. Sorry the snowman’s face ended up looking like the Scream mask. I was never good at that kind of stuff anyway.

Love,

Kate

Letter to Mom #3

Dear Mom,

Modern Family was great last night, and I wished you were watching it with me so we could talk about how awesomely dense Phil is.

I’ve done some cooking and baking lately, and I haven’t been awful. Remember when you’d watch me trying to bake and you’d give me feedback, which I’d promptly reject and get frustrated by? I’d give anything to have you fussing at me in the kitchen again, telling me you know a better way.

We’re approaching serious holiday season, which means my emotional stability will be questionable in the coming weeks. Hopefully it won’t be as bad as last year, but I’m not optimistic.

Dad and Zach are coming over this weekend to chop down some big trees in our backyard. This kind of stuff makes me nervous, but in typical Dad fashion, he told me to pipe down or shut up or something like that.

I watched Parenthood the other night, and one of the characters is fighting breast cancer. She was upset because her mom didn’t come to take care of her. I found myself crying too, because it occurred to me that if someday I’m very sick, I won’t have you nearby. I’m so thankful to still have your mom around – she’s an amazing grandmother and she helped take such good care of you when you were sick.

I hung out at Jim & Angie’s yesterday and spent some time with their boys. Boys plural – there are two of them now! Though they’re not mine, I love them with a completeness that’s usually reserved for very few. It’s reassuring to feel this though; it makes me believe that maybe I do have enough love to have a child of my own someday.

TJ and I are finalizing plans for the next golf outing in your memory. We’re going to do it.

I hope you celebrated your birthday in heaven. I hope you spent it with your dad and Sue, eating pie and gabbing. I’m sure you have a lot to catch up on with both of them.

Love,

Katie

Letter to Mom #2

Dear Mom,

The Emmys were this past weekend, and watching them was bittersweet. I love awards shows (read: fashion at awards shows) as much as I ever have, but I missed talking about dresses with you during the show and watching Fashion Police together the next night. I don’t think these feelings will ever go away.

Zach has made a potentially life-changing decision. I’m behind him 100% on this one. He’s really starting to think about his future, and though he’s had a few missteps in the last couple of months, I’m so proud of him.

Dad ripped down the wallpaper in the hallways and stairwells at home this past week. I had no idea the walls were that pink color underneath. He woke up one day and just felt that it was time to start taking steps forward. I’m proud of him too.

I cried today while sitting at the doctor’s. As I sat on that table – waiting – I could feel you in the room. And I know you spent time in the room when you were alive too. Imagining you sitting on the same table, feeling scared and uncertain, was nearly too much for me to handle. Dr. K said my reaction was normal. I hope to someday have a happy reason to go to the doctor and to feel happy while I’m there… but today was not the day.

I had bangs cut into my hair last month, but I’m pretty sure I’m letting them grow out now.

I got a new job last week, and I think I’m starting there next week. I’d tell you all about it, except I don’t know much about it. What I do know is that this is exciting, career-altering work, and I haven’t been this excited to go to the office every day in awhile.

TJ is sitting on the couch next to me, watching Top Gear. Some people might say that our evenings of being bums on the couch, talking, watching TV and playing with Lu are boring, but I just don’t care. There’s nothing I look forward to more than being home with him, hearing about his day, and listening to him laugh.

I’m going to go fold laundry now. The laundry will inevitably smell like your favorite fresh cotton lotion, and so I’ll think of you.

Love,

Kate

Letter to Mom #1

Dear Mom,

Randy Jackson is no longer a judge on American Idol! It’s the end of an era.

Hoopz from season one of Flavor of Love is dating Shaq. I know, what?

Remember that shade of green that we decided looks awful on me based on my 8^th grade photo? I’m decorating my kitchen with it.

Zach told me I’m just like you, and it was probably the best compliment I’ve ever received. He’s still finding his way, but he has your gentle spirit and innate goodness so he’s going to be fine.

TJ has perfected his Larry King impersonation that you found so funny. Now he’s trying Christopher Walken. This one could take awhile, but we're laughing a lot together as he works on it.

I’m not sure I can handle the emotional stress of hosting another golf outing in your honor. I hope you understand if we decide it was just that once.

Dad made an asinine comment the other day and I told him that if you could, you’d spit on his head right now. He laughed, but then said he would thank God if you did. I know you knew how much he loved you, but rest assured – his love has only grown while you’ve been gone.

There are days when I have to put away the photos I keep on my desk of you and our family. Days like today, when glancing up from my work to see your sweet smile has pushed me to tears.

And finally, Lindsay Lohan is still a train wreck.  I kept thinking she was going to get it together, but I'm willing to admit now that you were probably right.

Love,

Your Daughter