Same Moon

For me, Mother’s Day brings mixed feelings. On one hand, I am so incredibly thankful for all of the mothers out there who have touched my life and the lives of those around them. I think that being a mother is such an incredible job, and I can only hope to be half as good at it as so many of the mothers in my life.
But as this is the second Mother’s Day I have spent without my own Mom, today is really hard. Now, before I continue, I really don’t want this to be a “poor me” post. In fact, I almost considered not publishing it for that very reason. I am not looking for sympathy. I am merely hoping that by sharing with the world (or my few readers) what I have been through, I can maybe help someone else. Plus, writing seems to be one of the only things that allows me to process my thoughts and get it all out.
So here goes…
I lost my Mom almost two years ago. She was driving out to Pennsylvania to visit my sister when she rolled her SUV somewhere in Ohio. We didn’t make it to the hospital in time, but the doctor did tell us that she fought through almost seven hours of surgery, requiring 20 units of blood. He added that 99 percent of the cases he had seen like hers didn’t leave the accident site. I attribute that to her stubbornness.

 My Mom and Dad, rocking late 80s style.

Anyway, the last year or so has not been easy. I’ve accomplished a lot: graduating college, getting a job, and moving in with my boyfriend. All without her in my life. But I am so thankful to all of the people who have made my journey easier- I truly couldn’t have done it without them. They have made all the difference; I can only hope that I can make a difference to someone else out there.

Oh, and the blog title. I guess that could be a bit confusing. Every time we were separated from my mom as kids, whether on a sleepover, trip, whatever, she always told us that all we had to do was look up. After all, she would always say, we are looking at the same moon. When I moved to Chicago for college (only 45 minutes from home, mind you) she made sure to tell me that if I missed home I just had to look up at the moon, which I did more than she could ever know. So I hope that now, wherever she is, she looks at the moon every night and thinks of us.
This post is getting a bit long, but I do want to share something else with you all. I tend to write letters to my Mom from time to time, letters that sit in a notebook unsent. Here is the letter I wrote her today:
Hi Mom,
Happy Mother’s Day! I still can’t believe this is the only way I can tell you that from now on. But, I am trying to stay positive; I know if I don’t you’ll come back from wherever you are and kick my butt. I just hope that you can hear me, and know that I think about you today, and everyday.
Brian took Jade and I to R-Place for breakfast today- we even sat on the trucker’s side of the restaurant that you loved so much. Their coffee hasn’t gotten much better since last time you were there. Jenny called when we were on the way there. She is doing well and misses you as much as we all do. You should see her with her kids- she is such an incredible mother. Even though I know you won’t be there when I have my babies, I know Jenny will be there for me every step of the way. How she is with Jackson and Archie is just incredible, and the twins… well they are just cute beyond words.
I checked out the yard when we dropped Jadie off back home. Even without you there to work the ground, it is stunning. The bleeding hearts are as beautiful as ever and the Mayflowers have almost taken over. I swear it must look like a jungle to all the chipmunks running through! Hopefully I can get over there throughout the summer to make sure everything stays happy and healthy. I doubt I’ll be able to do the job you did in that garden, but I’ll try.
 Mom’s flowers, circa 2007

I did do a bit of gardening when I got home- I planted an herb garden on our balcony. Not much, but I have the essentials: basil, thyme, rosemary, and cilantro. Now I just hope they grow. After being raised by you, any lack of gardening skills would just be pathetic.

You would love our apartment, we are finally getting it to where it looks like our place. We are even reupholstering chairs- sound familiar? These ones are way harder than the ones we did… they’ve been sitting half done for weeks. But at least the rest of the apartment looks good and feels like home.
Brian and I have grown closer than ever; you would be so proud of us. He is so strong, and knows what I need even when I don’t know myself. He also not only accepts how stubborn and independent I am, but encourages it. Well, maybe not the stubborn part, but he is always pushing me to do everything I want for myself. 
I still love bubbles to this day. Guess I never really grew up đŸ™‚

I can’t say that every day is easy without lying. But the important part is that I am happy. I feel like I know where I am going with my life. I just wish you could be a part of it. Every moment, every new flower bud, every new bird chirping makes me think about all of the memories you won’t be a part of. Please just know that I always have you with me and don’t make any memories of my own without you being a part of them. 

One of my favorite photos of my parents

I love you so much, and hope you are out somewhere dancing up a storm with Dad! And as always, same moon.

Jordan

8 Comments

  1. Oh J I am so sorry you lost your dear Mum. But I am happy that you have such wonderful memories of her. Your letter was very touching. I have my parents but they are so far away. I shall remember to look at the moon. Take care.

  2. dear j: beautiful. your mum would love it. the moon thing – when my husband lanny and i met we were 17 and had a 'long distance relationship' for a bit. i wrote him once and told him 'i hate the fact that we see the same sun moon sky and stars but we can't see each other'. he wrote back 'just keep looking at the moon. i did. 20 years later, we got married.

    mother's day has been difficult for me too for the past couple of years. although my mom is 'still with us', she is a bit different, and is really kinda not 'still with us. although i am also a mom of sorts, i don't really enjoy this day much and just make everyone give me my personal space. just give me breakfast in bed, a nice luvvly dinner and stay the puck away,,, yeah, but at least i'm honest. i'm sure your mum would be so proud. although i don't really 'know' you, i feel like i 'know you, and you're awesome. to me that's the work of your mum. so cin cin to your mum and all the mums out there. and just keep looking at the moon

  3. What a sweet post, J.
    I know where you're coming from. I lost my dad almost 4 years ago and it's still tough to get through. Just this past Friday in fact, I was my friend's wedding. The second song they played is the one he and I danced to at my wedding. Then, when my friend danced with her dad, I lost it for a minute. Seeing as my dad died 9 months after I got married, I'm very grateful that he was able to be a part of my wedding at all.
    I too find that writing helps me process my feelings. That is why every once in a while, I will write about something very personal on my blog. But also like you, I write letters to my dad. I started the day after he died. I have a leather-bound journal just for his letters. It doesn't make it better of course, but it does help.
    It's always good to keep those great memories alive. My dad has his own playlist on my iPod – sometimes we go driving together while listening to it.
    *HUGS*

  4. Your post made me cry. It is a lovely remembrance of one special mother and two amazing women (yes, you!). You possess an inner strength I didn't have in my early adult years–not sure I have it now– as well as the ability to convey so much within the written word.

    I am deeply sorry to hear of the loss of your mom. Thank you for sharing her with us. Take care. xx

  5. I'm so sorry for your loss. This was an incredibly beautiful post.
    Peace and love, xx.

  6. Amazingg post, J! It really touched my heart. Thanks so much for sharing, I'm sure your mom would be so very proud of you ….!

  7. I am wiping tears from my eyes. But a beautiful & honest post. I lost my dad when I was 13, and I'm 45 now. I still think about him almost every day, but Father's Day is always challenging.

    Thank you for sharing this. I really enjoy your blog.

  8. Thanks, Songbird. Never really gets easier, but we've just gotta keep going!

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