A week of remembering.

There are some times of each year that you just know will be shitty. This particular week is one of them. In various years, three of the most important people to ever touch my life all passed away. Add pregnancy hormones and an absent husband and you have one hell of a craptastic week.

The first 5 years of my life, I lived and breathed for my great grandmother, Mom's grandmother. My mom was back in college, and I'd stay with my Nonnie every day when Mom went to class. We had a very special relationship. Even at 5 years old, I knew this. I remember the day she died. I remember where I was (Mamaw's house) and what I was wearing when my parents told me, or rather, when my Daddy told me. My mother couldn't quite speak, if I recall correctly. Nonnie had been her one and only constant during her childhood. We both struggled when she died. I still vividly remember all things surrounding her death on February 10, including her funeral a few days later, again, including what I wore. I wasn't sure what death was at the age of 5, but I knew enough to know my Nonnie was gone.

In 2005, I lost my Mamaw. My Dad's mom was the strongest woman I've ever known. Being the only granddaughter, she and I were special together. I was the one who drove her around, took her shopping (and to Burger King for fish sandwiches and vanilla malts), tilled her garden, learned her recipes, looked at her pictures, balanced her checkbook, learned the family stories, called her almost daily, and was the one she told when she was ready to finally go to the hospital when she was dying. She had a not so very long battle with ovarian cancer, and when she decided she was ready to go, she went. Her death is still the most peaceful event I've ever experienced. Myself, along with all my relatives, cousins, aunts, uncles were in the ICU cubicle when she died. Her breathing and heart rate slowed, and we all thought she was gone. Then she perked back up for a minute, enough for a cousin to comment that clearly heaven wasn't perfectly ready for her yet and she was waiting for them to sweep the floor again. A few minutes later, she was gone. We were all there with her when she took her last breath. It was peaceful and perfect, if you can describe a death as perfect, on February 13. I can tell you from experience, flower shops are not prepared to deal with grieving people picking out funeral flowers on Valentine's Day. But that's what my aunt and I did that day. And yes, it sucked as much as you can imagine.

Through both of those deaths, my Aunt Hazy had been there for me. She was Nonnie's daughter and roommate and had been an important part of mine and Mom's lives. She'd never had any children and made Mom and her own. She spoiled us both, not with money or stuff, but with love, homemade fudge, and amazing margaritas. She was the person that we could both go to for advice, or venting, or anything really. She was a sharp tongued, tell it like it is, smart ass who smoked like a chimney and rarely kept her thoughts to herself. In short, mine and Mom's hero. When she died on February 8, my world was totally shaken. During her wake and funeral, almost everyone there came up to me and told me what an important role I'd had in Sara's life, how she never missed an opportunity to talk about me and what I was doing at that point in life. I knew she had played a huge role in my life, but I never considered the role I'd played in hers. It made the hole she left even bigger, a hole that is still very much there.


I'm so ready for Bob to be home, but his trip back home keeps getting cancelled. He's been told the significance of this week in the past, but I haven't reminded him this year, and he hasn't been at home to see my sadness. This year, it's been my own sad struggle alone, which is okay. It has made me even more ready for my little guy to be here. I need someone to hug and snuggle with, besides Hank, who has had the most epic flatulence this week. Thanks, bud.... as if I needed another reason to make my eyes water.

Part of my heart.

I'm typically a pretty sentimental person. I cherish my family and the relationships I've built. Some very important people in my life are no longer here. My Mamaw, my great Aunt Sara, otherwise known as Hazy, and my great grandmother, Grandma. There are others, but these three have recently, within in the last 10 years, passed away.

Oh how I wish they were still here. I want to so much to pick up the phone and call my Mamaw, talk to her about having a baby, to get her advice, to go pick her up and take her to dinner. I'd like to go to my Hazy's house, with a pizza and cheese dip in hand, and talk about the rest of our family and how I'll need to make sure I raise our kid to be normal, unlike the rest of the family. And I'd like to be able to take our child up to Grandma's farm so he/she will learn all about animals and the responsibility of a farm, just as I did as a child.

I miss these women an incredible amount. Earlier this week, one of the residents at my facility started singing Mamaw's favorite hymn. Just to hear that song, I immediately started crying. She, along with Hazy and Grandma, were so important in my life, and they still are. They would be so proud of the marriage that Bob and I have and the life we've built. They would be ecstatic over the baby. I mean, ridiculously ecstatic. Mamaw would teach baby all the Bible stories and how to properly till a garden. Hazy would teach baby all the good cuss words and how to make a mean margarita. And Grandma would teach baby about how to raise chickens and how to make an killer wedding cake. These are some of the things I learned from these amazing ladies. Things that are now my responsibility to pass on to baby. I can't wait to share these things with our kids. They will know all about the important people these lessons came from and how awesome they were!

Post Thanksgiving Thankfulness.

So now that Thanksgiving is over and done with, and since I missed the majority of November, here's what I've been especially appreciating this month:

1. Recipes passed down from all of my grandmothers and great grandmothers. They are so very helpful and comforting when I'm having a bad day. For example, the last week I've kept my kitchen stocked with chicken and dumplins and peanut butter rice crispies, two of my Mamaw's specialties. It's obvs been a long week.

2. Garden and Gun magazine. I like to be reminded that it's okay to be Southern and to be proud of it. I usually get picked on for my accent and the things I eat. Reading all those articles written by fine Southern peeps makes me feel a heap better, ya'll.

3. World Market. We have quite a bit of stuff in our house from there. I'd say it's my favorite store.

4. Cheese dip. Really from anywhere. And any kind.

5. My snuggly, senile, asshole of a cat, Jack. Captain Snuggles when I need him to be. Feisty when he wants to be. Independent when necessary. It's been a rough 13 years, but we've made it through together.

6. Good hair days. My hair has always been flat, straight, thin, and fine. On those rare days when the humidity is JUST RIGHT, it's not frizzy but has body. Those are great days.

7. My grandparents. They've done more for me than they ever should have. They've bailed me out, cheered me on, and loved me my whole life. As an adult, I appreciate them more than ever. They worked hard and built a business from the ground up, and now they're appreciating the life they made. They inspire me to be more financially responsible, so one day I can do for my grandkids what they've done for me.

8. My Brother Little. He's a moody little shit, but my life would be so incredibly different without him. Even though his bedroom replaced my play room, I still couldn't pick a better brother little. Because of our mutual hatred of talking on the telephone, we rarely have lengthy conversations unless I'm in Hometown. But when we do get together, boy, get ready. Those 5-6 hour talks are amazing.

9. My parents. As different as they are, they've both had a profound affect on my life and still do to this day. It seems like we're all still growing up and ever changing, but our relationships stay constant. There isn't a single second of the day that I can't pick up the phone and tell them anything in the world.

10. Bob. He's my best friend, my cheerleader, my therapist, my first thought in the morning, and my last thought at bedtime. Being together now makes all the previous years seem wasted, although we both know we learned a lot from our past mistakes and relationships. We've been married for (almost) 7 months, and even now, a whole lifetime doesn't seem long enough to be with him. I'm so excited to see what the rest of our life together holds. If the last 10 years (and few months) are any indication, it'll be full of sarcasm, love, and enough snuggling to make even the most hopeless romantic puke for days. And cheese dip. And Jack.

Sick and sappy.

So I'm still sick. And when I'm sick, I always think about my Mamaw. I'm not sure why, but she always comes to mind when I'm sickly. In all my snottiness, I got out a box of some of her old pictures. But I found something more instead...

So back in college, Bob and I were really good friends. Best friends. And being best friends, we made each other our back up marriage plan (mainly because my original back up plan came out of the closet our sophomore year of college, and I'm happy to report he's been practically married to Dennis for the last few years). So if neither Bob or I were married by ages 26 and 28, we'd marry each other.

Well, as things happen, Bob and I did NOT marry each other at 26 and 28. It ended up being 31 and 33 instead. While looking at Mamaw pics, I found this card. It's my college graduation card from Bob. He'd also put one of his business cards in there, good for one free meal at one of two of our favorite places, as long as I went with him.

I love this boy! And for some reason, he loves me. Even with all my snot and sappiness.