Posted by: Wagons Ho | January 8, 2016

Two Weeks

Mom will have been gone two weeks tomorrow. How many times did I go two weeks without talking to her? A lot I’m sure. Kids, work, life all make the days go by so fast. Then I realize it’s been a couple weeks since I’ve called and I grab the phone and we talk for hours.

Two weeks of vacation last summer, and several other summers, when mom, dad and Jodie came to visit. We’d laugh, fight, explore, and just spend time together. Those two weeks would always fly by.

Two weeks of keeping it together. Most days it’s like she’s just out shopping, or taking a nap, and I’m good. But then there are times when I hear her voice on the answering machine, or find a picture of her as I’m digging through paperwork, and it hits me that she really is gone.

I ask myself why after two weeks I’m still surprised that mom really is gone? How, after only two weeks, I not spending every second, of every day, curled up in a ball of tears and pain? I don’t know the answers.

So I save the message to tape later. I put away the picture. I laugh at all the random notes I find and cherish seeing her handwriting one more time. I organize, and file, and throw away. I make appointments, and lists, and worry about dad. I eat meals, make coffee, do laundry, pay bills. Time moves on. Minutes turn into days that turn into two weeks.

 

 

 

 

 

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