So I'm sitting in the semi darkness of dusk thinking about my mom. I can't believe its been 10 years since she passed away. 10 years...has it really been that long?
I remember the last couple months of her life on earth like they were yesterday and it still hurts sometimes to be perfectly honest. I remember walking from my locker at school during lunch to find my friends and passed my guidance counselor on the way to our spot. She said, "Your mom called me because she was concerned about your grades. I'm so sorry that she's sick." All I could think of saying was, "Thanks" and walked away. One of the more popular girls in my class asked me in English the next day what Mrs. Hansen meant by what she said and I told her with tears welling my eyes that my mom was dying from cancer. I don't even remember the girls name but I was sent to the school psychologist that very same period. At the time my mom was still on chemo and radiation and I didn't actually know that the treatments weren't working. I just felt like I was losing her already.
The first couple years after my mom passed away, I was so self involved. Family things went by the wayside and I ended up moving to Southern California for a semester of school. The plan was to find a job and go to school. Except I was so depressed and my self confidence was lacking that I wasn't motivated enough to find a job or continue school. It was a pretty dark time those first 4 years for me. I'll spare details of what a mess my family was at the time. Actually, things are still a mess as far as some aspects go, but for the most part, most family situations have vastly improved.
After moving to Utah, I was afraid that I'd forget more of what my mom was like. My memories have faded like little paper dolls taped in the window. But the lessons she taught me are still valid in my life today as they were all those years ago. Like cooking. If my mom taught me any sort of life skill pertinent to living an successful adult life, she taught me to cook. As much as I complained about it sometimes, I loved helping my mom in the kitchen. I loved going grocery shopping with her too. I think it was mostly just spending time with her one on one was what I craved for the most growing up. She wrote me a letter for Valentine's Day the year before she passed away and she said that she was proud of me for doing accomplishing so many things. I still have it in my box of special memories. I take it out and read it once in a while when I'm feeling blue or when I want to feel closer to her. I remember her red lipstick so well. And the red and white checkered skirt and silky red blouse she would often wear to church. I remember one time she dyed her hair a couple shades too dark and had to get the correcting dye and the right box of dye to fix her hair. The correcting dye was basically hair bleach and it had turned her hair an orange-ish yellow color. I remember so many things but I have forgotten her smell. Her laugh. Her touch. I remember how her mouth would shape as she laughed and smile, but I can't hear her laugh anymore.
There are two songs that I love playing on the piano that up until today, didn't hold any significance for me. Today though, as I was remembering my mom and her impact on my life, I took to the piano and started to play Ave Maria by Gounod and Piano Sonata K. 331 1st Movement by Mozart. If my mom's life were made into a movie, I would think those two pieces would be part of the soundtrack. They remind me of her for some reason. If you can find links to the actual piano playing either of these songs, they are pretty fantastic and I think most people would at least like them.
I'll love you forever Mom!
I remember the last couple months of her life on earth like they were yesterday and it still hurts sometimes to be perfectly honest. I remember walking from my locker at school during lunch to find my friends and passed my guidance counselor on the way to our spot. She said, "Your mom called me because she was concerned about your grades. I'm so sorry that she's sick." All I could think of saying was, "Thanks" and walked away. One of the more popular girls in my class asked me in English the next day what Mrs. Hansen meant by what she said and I told her with tears welling my eyes that my mom was dying from cancer. I don't even remember the girls name but I was sent to the school psychologist that very same period. At the time my mom was still on chemo and radiation and I didn't actually know that the treatments weren't working. I just felt like I was losing her already.
The first couple years after my mom passed away, I was so self involved. Family things went by the wayside and I ended up moving to Southern California for a semester of school. The plan was to find a job and go to school. Except I was so depressed and my self confidence was lacking that I wasn't motivated enough to find a job or continue school. It was a pretty dark time those first 4 years for me. I'll spare details of what a mess my family was at the time. Actually, things are still a mess as far as some aspects go, but for the most part, most family situations have vastly improved.
After moving to Utah, I was afraid that I'd forget more of what my mom was like. My memories have faded like little paper dolls taped in the window. But the lessons she taught me are still valid in my life today as they were all those years ago. Like cooking. If my mom taught me any sort of life skill pertinent to living an successful adult life, she taught me to cook. As much as I complained about it sometimes, I loved helping my mom in the kitchen. I loved going grocery shopping with her too. I think it was mostly just spending time with her one on one was what I craved for the most growing up. She wrote me a letter for Valentine's Day the year before she passed away and she said that she was proud of me for doing accomplishing so many things. I still have it in my box of special memories. I take it out and read it once in a while when I'm feeling blue or when I want to feel closer to her. I remember her red lipstick so well. And the red and white checkered skirt and silky red blouse she would often wear to church. I remember one time she dyed her hair a couple shades too dark and had to get the correcting dye and the right box of dye to fix her hair. The correcting dye was basically hair bleach and it had turned her hair an orange-ish yellow color. I remember so many things but I have forgotten her smell. Her laugh. Her touch. I remember how her mouth would shape as she laughed and smile, but I can't hear her laugh anymore.
There are two songs that I love playing on the piano that up until today, didn't hold any significance for me. Today though, as I was remembering my mom and her impact on my life, I took to the piano and started to play Ave Maria by Gounod and Piano Sonata K. 331 1st Movement by Mozart. If my mom's life were made into a movie, I would think those two pieces would be part of the soundtrack. They remind me of her for some reason. If you can find links to the actual piano playing either of these songs, they are pretty fantastic and I think most people would at least like them.
I'll love you forever Mom!
Comments