Friday, December 22, 2006

Ignore my last post

I hope everyone has a very, very Merry Christmas.

Thursday, December 21, 2006

Not feeling the Christmas spirit

At freakin all. First a little back story.
My mom was big into Christmas. Loved Christmas. Spent a good part of the year preparing for Christmas. The woman had something like 12 large plastic tubs crammed full of decorations. Her biggest thing was stockings. She would find little things all year long, and fill unbelievably large stocking bags with tiny treasures. One year they were so big she had to use Christmas Tree (garbage) Bags to put them in. They were a big deal. I got a million presents from my mom and dad over the years. I have almost no idea what those gifts were. However, I could tell you just about every stocking. What it was filled with, and what it was - one year she bought us all these kick ass old navy pajamas, tied the feet shut and filled them up. They were magical, and so much more special than the gifts. You knew when you opened it that she had thought about you all year long. She had listened when you passed by a pair of earrings you liked, she knew the color you liked things in, and she knew the kind of candy you liked. Stockings will always be one of my fondest Christmas memories. I will sit at my daughters house on Christmas morning, watching my grandchildren open their stockings, and I will be telling them how their Great Ya-Ya stared the stocking tradition in our family.
This morning my dad informed me that he and his new wife will not be doing stockings. That her family does not do stockings. My heart cracked. What do you say? I mean that is their choice, but I guess I just realized how important all the things my mom did were to him. Which is not very. What that statement did was help me put my head around the fact that there really only are 3 members of my family. We 3 have to do the things we want.
Next year will be different. Very very very different. No trying to accommodate everyone. Just us. That goes for all holidays. We will do thanksgiving, and invite our friends that are far from their family. We will do Christmas, and it will include stockings. (Joey is getting one this year from us, like always, but Chris and I don't usually get each other one - we will next year)
I feel bad, but this just sucked any bit of Christmas spirit I had right out of me.
Miss her.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

For Robin - an almost up to date album

ost The layouts I have scanned so far. I am pretty sure the date in "the View" is wrong. I'll change it. Ones that are done, but need journaling - Phantom of the Opera, Museum, You with your arms up, Ground Zero, and the other part of "the View. Ones I still need to do and need journaling for - Christmas Windows, Phantom Chandelier, and Overview page.

A few layouts I have made,

about her

Monday, December 11, 2006

Today I am sad.

Today is not the date - that was Saturday. But today is the day. I miss her so much it physically hurts. Even now - 4 years later! I feel like this will never end. Always hurting. Songs, movies, jokes, and everything else makes me remember and the pain sets in all over again. I don't mind it so much anymore. I feel like its better to hurt than forget. Sometimes I get scared that I can't remember what her face looked like, so I search franticly for a photo of her. Then I try to memorize it all over again. Even though its a face I love and know better than I think. For me the worst part is the feeling that my life is segmented into 2 parts. Before and After. After is a decidedly less happy place. So today I am going to remember as much of before as humanly possible. I remember...
Her getting me out of the huge bath tub at the big house, and rubbing lotion on my arms and legs.
How thick her nails were.
Painting her nails, and giving her manicures.
Giving her pedicures, because she couldn't go to a nail salon - fungus.
She acted like my rubbing lotion on her foot and leg was the best thing ever.
She loved to shop.
She might be gone for hours and hours on shopping trips.
She always found great deals.
She always bought you the very thing you wanted - even if you didn't know it.
She really got to know people, and what they liked.
When she got really nervous she talked - A lot!
She also laughed when she was nervous.
The way she titled her head when she painted.
She was a terrible speller.
She loved old things, and saw the beauty in things that other people would look right past.
She had an eye for color.
She loved to decorate, and should have done it for a living.
Whenever she wanted me to help her on a project, that meant she wanted me to do it and her to supervise.
She took me to my first concert - New kids on the Block.
When they came out I cried, and she cried too.
Sitting on the couch watching Seinfeld with her.
Her snoring.
Bee Alert.
Taking the stained glass class with her.
How much she loved her friends.
How hard she laughed when I was electrocuted and fell off the ladder while putting up her Christmas lights.
How good her cooking was.
She always made me feel pretty.
She sent me a frog while I was in Greece.
Her airhead vase collection.
Her depression glass collection.
Her extremely large Santa collection, more than half of which she made.
Seeing how happy she was that her large Santa won 1st place and best in show at the Dallas ceramic convention.
How she cried when I gave her the tennis bracelet I bought her for Christmas.
How thrilled she was when I gave her the very large porcelain doll I won.
She loved gladiolus.
She made the best peanut butter cookies.
She missed her Ya-Ya, and wanted to be very much like her.
She was super scared of pain.
Even just a tiny little bit of pain.
She was always being silly, even to the point of making me mad sometimes.
Crazy Driver - that always made me laugh.
How much she loved my cousins. Her boys.
How kids and dogs flocked to her.

Ok - this is too much - I have to quit now or I will fill this office with tears.

One last thing I remember.... She always made you feel loved, special, excepted, and safe.