1-25

After the hell that was 2008, I swore 2009 would be better. And so far, I have no complaints.

The weekend before the big inauguration, I flew to Tennessee to spend the weekend with my Bitches. We met years and years ago through a message board on a website (and NO it wasn't match.com), ventured out on our own when said message board became ridiculous, and we've been lowering our productivity at work ever since. This was the first official get together, and we had a blast. Hanging out in person is so much better than a message board!

The bike is dead. It will be disassembled shortly and stored for....well, I really don't know yet. Maybe one of these days i'll restore the damn thing, or maybe i'll get tired of looking at the big box it will be in and sell the parts. I'm just not ready to let go yet. We had a good run.

Last Tuesday marked the one year anniversary of my mom being diagnosed with cancer. Most people remember birthdays, death days, anniversaries- and I remember sitting in a hospital while mom had surgery to remove the tumor, waiting for the doctor to tell me she'd be fine. Of course she didn't, and the rest is history, but that day is burned into my mind in a way I never thought it would be. I can't remember the day she died, but I remember this. I remember because it changed my life. That day was the first day of the hideous roller coaster ride that would become synonymous with the year 2008. That day was complete, utter shit.

I found our unfinished passport applications on the bookshelf today, squeezed between two old textbooks and forgotten. It was February of last year when I picked those up- determined that I was going to find a way to take mom back to Italy before she died. Looking back, I realize how naive that was- thinking that I had any control, any say in the matter- that she was clearly getting worse and would not get any better, let alone well enough to travel overseas. It still makes me sad that I never got to take her back there, but I find it a happy coincidence that her previous five years had taken her to Europe twice.

I'll be 28 tomorrow, and I wish like hell she were here to see that. Not that there is anything remarkable about 28, or any age for that matter, but just because the void is incredible.

Workin' for the weekend

Last weekend, my dad needed some help with a job he couldn't run by himself, so Tim, the dogs and I went up to the boonies to provide some assistance.

This...

 

Plus this...

 

Equals this.

 

Fun times!

Cooper had a blast, as Maggie decided to come home for the weekend when she realized he was there. Apparently, she's run away from home and is involved in a love affair with the neighbor's dog. I thought dogs were supposed to be loyal?

Molly wasn't allowed to run with the big dogs, on account of her size. She did get to hassle the cat and play with a toy twice her size, though, so I think she was okay with that.


For those of you who aren't familiar with the area where my dad lives, it pretty much looks like this:

 

I don't miss living there at all, but I do miss the wonderful "Simpsons Clouds" that glide by every afternoon.

7.27

A week ago tonight, my mother left us.

It's hard to talk about and even harder to write. Despite knowing that it would happen, nothing can quite prepare you for the incredible sense of disorientation that occurs when a hole of epic proportions is ripped into your heart.

I am not quite sure what to do now, but that doesn't make me lost. Bearing witness to the entire process of my mother's illness and death has given me a new perspective, but I suspect it will take time to filter out the bitter and painful parts to render it useful.

Poring over cookbooks over the phone, discussing recipes.
Sitting in the kitchen, drinking wine and laughing.
The goofy opera singing in the car.
Knowing that I always had a shoulder to cry on or my biggest cheerleader.

I miss these things, I miss everything. I miss the way life used to be. I miss her.