70

Eyes and mind wide awake...it's 11:59pm. I was dreaming of Ma again. This time, though, I was aware enough to keep watch on the clock as it flicked to 12:00am, signaling the official start of her 70th birthday. Happy Birthday, Ma. Love and miss you. More.

70. This is the 5th birthday we will celebrate her life, albeit in her absence.

I thought it was appropriate today to share with you some of the "Ma-isms" that she would say, some repeatedly, just to make sure you were listening. She usually started these gems with some "Tape Number..." and then assigned some random number to them - just to introduce them to command your proper attention. Some are repeated from the tribute I read for her four and a half years ago. Some of these you may have never heard before. Some will make you laugh, cry, or crazy. Your choice. 

1. Life is goes on. Even if you don't really want it to.
2. Crying makes you tired. Crying does nothing but make your face puffy and tired and then you’re all cried out and you’re thirsty. Stop crying.
3. Quentin Road is a speed trap. When leaving the house, make sure you don’t speed, especially on Quentin Road. Cops sit there all the time. To write tickets…If, you’re speeding.
4. When going to the mall (at 10 am because that’s the time you need to run errands, not at 5 o’clock- are you crazy?) always park in the same section so you know where your car will be when you come out.
5. Beep beep beep. Tommy Skilling says, when a weather watch is issued, it means “watch out” and when a warning is issued, it means, “danger danger”. In both cases, put your gym shoes on (over your pantyhose,) grab your camera (in case you see any shapes that look like people in the clouds,) and then go in the bathtub or the basement. But first, turn off your computer because if you have a power surge, you want to make sure it’s okay. Don’t trust those surge protectors.
6. Don't color your hair. You're not fooling anybody. And no, it doesn't look natural.
7. Don't bother me while I'm on the phone. Unless you're hurt or bleeding.
8. You have a whole closet of new clothes. You just have to lose a few pounds (said with love).
9. Just one more picture at this angle in front of the mirror. 
10. Your Grandma always said that when you get or earn money: spend a third, save a third (toward what you want) and the other third is just for savings.
11. When looking at paint colors, grab 500 paint chips and stare at them. Don’t just go and pick a paint color willy-nilly. Make sure you sample it on each wall, in the moonlight, sunlight and artificial light.
12. Everything goes in circles. I should have saved the platform shoes from 1960s, the bellbottoms from the 70’s and the leggings from the 80’s. SAVE EVERYTHING AND IT'LL COME BACK. 
13. Just relax. Don’t burn the candle at both ends because you’re going to get sick!
14. M&M'S DO MELT IN YOUR HAND. If you put them in a cup and tip them back into your mouth, you don't have to worry about the melting.
15. Do NOT go up and down the wooden stairs with just socks on. You’re asking for trouble.
16. Days that are dreary until it's almost time for the sun to set are dumb.
17. Say "Good Morning" when you wake up. It makes for a nice start to the day.
18. Washing your hair in the sink prevents you from getting water in your ears.
19. When you find something you like, buy multiples of it. This includes turtlenecks, lipsticks, and printers.
20. Eat slow and chew it good.
21. Life is hard enough; don't go looking for trouble.
22. It's okay to wash your face with Noxema. Twice a day.
23. When coming in from the cold, bundle up in a warm blanket fresh from the dryer. Snug as a bug in a rug.
24. Don't watch movies that are too close to real life. Real life happens - then you have to deal with it - so watch movies like Independence Day or The Mummy because those could never happen.
25. Do not leave plastic water bottles in the car and then drink from them days later. They're poison.
26. Look for the signs. They are everywhere.
27. Sometimes, you just have to... "Let it Go"...
28. If you don't look at the garage door as you're driving away from your house, you know it won't stay closed.
29. If you go out in public without lipstick or washing your hair, that is shameful.
30. Some of the best days are "free days" ---> no heat on, no air conditioning, just a breeze that blows through the sliding glass door.
31. I would rather have a sunny and cold day than a dreary day.
32. You can find something special about every season. Except the summer. It's too damn hot sometimes.
33. You'll be fine. No matter what happens, you'll be just fine.
34. Drink more water.
35. Keep an eye to the sky.
36. I can go all day without eating until 3pm, but I must have my coffee, Pepsi and M&Ms to make it through.
37. It's really special to get a birthday card that includes a dollar bill for each year of life.
38. Shop early and often for gifts. Then forget where you put them.
39. If you're going to listen to music, listen to it loudly. But then don't complain about hearing loss.
40. When men drive, specifically your father, there is something out the left window that he keeps staring at, and I'm not sure what it is.
41. The color black goes with everything.
42. If you stare at a tree stump long enough, you'll surely find a face in it.
43. Same with the clouds.
44. Cover Girl face powder is the best you can find.
45. Smoking cigarettes in the garage takes more effort, therefore I will smoke less. 
46. Clean your bathroom before company arrives and again after they leave.
47. Just tell the truth.
48. Zits are caused by too much sugar.
49. That one time we did the Cabbage Soup Diet, we lost weight, but by day 4 when we were supposed to eat 8 bananas we ate banana cream pie instead. We should've just kept up with it. 
50. When someone isn't nice to you, it's okay to think "Jesus loves you. Everyone else thinks you're an asshole"...
51. I'm stupidly right.
52. When you travel somewhere, bring me back a spoon or a rock for my collection.
53. When it's time for life to end, make sure you graduate it With Honors.
54. It's the stuff people don't see that you do that matters most.
55. In the car, it's really important to listen to WGN 720 in case important news happens when I'm doing my weekly errands.
56. The teacher is always right.
57. If something good or bad happens, tell your mother first, please.
58. If you're drinking at the Cubs game all day, make sure you're not on TV where I can see you.
59. Always have a pen and paper handy when you're on the phone.
60. If you're going to shop online, make sure you check the box that says "This is a gift" so they can send you a box. Boxes are great. Especially the Ralph Lauren ones.
61. Go with your gut. Always go with your gut.
62. Don’t use words like “It’s not fair,” because I don’t like the word “fair” It’s called “Life.” The faster you figure out that nothing is "fair," the easier "Life" will be.
63. Hindsight always is 20/20.
64. The Lion King really teaches you what it's all about.
65. Find strength from your past, your family, and the Man Upstairs.
66. When a major event happens, make sure you stay glued to the news.
67. If you get a bunch of donuts or long johns from the Jewel or the bakery and you cut them into bite-sized pieces, it's like a little snack and you can try all different ones.
68. If you want a new car, make a payment like you have a new car already, and see if you can save up.
69. Wash your hands as soon as you return home from wherever you happened to be.
70. Life is for the living.

Happy birthday, dear Ma. Our gift to you is to keep going with the same grace and strength you always had, even when Life became difficult. That's the way you would have wanted it. You gave us the best gifts - your everlasting love, your charming wisdom, and your enduring witty presence... then and now. 

 

Love you more.

Someday is Today.

"Thank you, God, for all of my blessings. God bless Daddy. And God Bless the Chicago Cubs."

108 years of nighttime prayers from 4-year-old boys were finally answered. After millions of lifetimes have begun and ended, in what seemed like an eternity, the "It's Gonna Happen" just did.

...

Born a Cubs fan in 1977, I have bled Cubbie blue through the exciting seasons, the dull seasons and the flat-out gut-wrenching disappointing seasons. I've cursed goats and have even cried at some of the pivotal moments that have defined our past. Nevertheless, my very best and most precious memories of the last 39 years revolve around an ever-changing ball club and its historical baseball field.

Back in 1983, I received my Die-Hard Fan Club Card. A gift from Grandma. I can't find the $5 bill I lost last week, but I can tell you where this card is at all times. My Grandma and Grandpa were instrumental in influencing my love for the "loveable losers" and would often take me and my older sister, Debbie, to games. Grandpa, with his outgoing Irish wit and personality, made friends with the crowd around us quite quickly and never said "No" to my request of a souvenir. Grandma, when she wasn't attending a game, would listen to WGN radio or tv in her kitchen and cry tears of joy when Harry or Jack would jubiliantly call a play or announce a "Cubs Win"... My sister, Debbie, after diagnosed with cancer, received memorabilia from Ryne Sandberg, Steve Trout, and Rick Sutcliffe -- along with a couple of phone calls from these guys to personally wish her well. Class Acts, those Cubbies, new and of old. 

Once Debbie had passed, followed by both Grandma and Grandpa a few years later, it was mostly Dad who took me to games. I loved every minute of seeing games with my Dad and couldn't wait to have my own children to share memories with. I wrote last year about Dragonflies and the experience of taking my son to his first Cubs game at Wrigley and running the bases - a dream I will never, ever get to experience myself. I would say watching him make "Wrigl-el-ly Field" his favorite place was a defining moment of my life. His love of the Cubs is so genuine, so pure and so true.

...

August, 2016
"Mom, Mom! Ernie Banks watches the Cubs from up in Heaven"

Me: Blank Stare. Where does he come up with this stuff? "Yep, he most certainly does, Jimmy."


...

October, 2016
"Mom, I want to be a 'Ghost Cubbie' for Halloween"

Me: "A 'Ghost Cubbie' what is that?"

"You know, Mom. The Cubbies who watch from the outfield and look like a ghost" (BY THE WAY,  I know this is difficult to believe, but it is 100% the truth. This kid is from another time and place...has been an "old soul" since the day he was put on this earth)

Me: "Um, okay."


...

November 2, 2016
With our "assigned seats," lucky pajamas, an Irish shamrock, and a Die Hard Cubs Fan Club card in hand, we sat in awe as the most historical and breathtaking game ever played in the history of baseball giveth and taketh away. When the rain set in, I couldn't help but think it was the tears of all of those fans who lived entire lives for this moment only to watch it from up above with our beloved Harry, Ron, and Ernie. 

Once the rain let up, the boys in blue approached the field with a renewed resiliency,  drive,  and maybe a couple of  "Angels in the Outfield..."  You just gotta believe in that.

Cubs win!

I'm pretty sure heaven hosted a bigger, louder party than that of the revelers celebrating at Clark and Addison...complete with all the Budweisers and David Berg Hotdogs good 'ol Harry could handle. 

...

I think I've cried five times today...crying for the magic and the miracle I never thought I would see. 

This isn't just about the Cubs. It's about all of us. 

It's about the countless Facebook posts about "Aunt Ida" and all of those who missed this, about Ronnie up there, clicking his heels. About the cancer survivors Rizzo and Lester who persevered. About Harry and his "green apples". About Jack's "Hey Hey" and Ernie's "Let's play two." About the days when men dressed in suits and hats to take in a game. About "Hope Springs Eternal". About finally forgiving Steve Bartman (we all would've reached for that ball). About taking chances. About taking things one day (or game) at a time. About 'when the going gets tough, the tough get going'. About Life and its inevitable series of peaks and valleys. And finally, about never, ever giving up. With hard work and faith, miracles can and DO happen.

Even if it takes 108 years. 

Those Teachable Moments

Life has gotten the best of me again.

I like to think I "do" Life the right way. After almost 40 years, I think I've got it down: play. laugh. let things go. move on. have faith. work hard. reflect. notice the small things and make them more special. but most of all: love. 

We are always up to something over here and these babies of mine are no longer babies. They say and do the coolest things. I try to make every day of value to them in some special way. Usually it turns out to be the other way around. We keep busy, like most young families. I often stop and think about writing another entry for More Seasoned Then; quickly that thought becomes a fleeting one as I'm being tugged on with a request of a snack, a book to be read, or for a hug. One day when I am old(er) and gray(er), I will look back and never regret not writing more because I will have raised happy, healthy children who, for the most part, have had my undivided attention, and all the books, hugs, and kisses they could ever want (and the occasional fruit snack, too).

Many of the moments I share with my children inevitably become teachable ones. I think I learned this from the best: my Ma.

Ma taught me that whenever you say "I'm the happiest I've ever been" it is usually followed by a period in life that could be described as the worst, most difficult time ever (that is, since that last time you proclaimed you were the "happiest" and stupidly didn't learn that you shouldn't say such nonsense). Ma much preferred the old Forrest Gump: "Just floatin' along like the breeze"... maybe next time, I will have finally learned to just stick with the damn breeze. What I do know is that we all know life is a series of peaks and valleys...I guess it goes without saying: we're in a valley...but I'm going to make it a teachable one.

Every day, I have a smile on my face, a positive attitude, and an unabashed love for my family and friends. I sleep little these days, but I still find myself awaiting the early-morning pitter-patter of preschooler feet to greet me, inevitably with a giant smile and a "Good morning, I love you"... accompanied by a "squeeze hug" a genuine zest for life and anticipatory excitement for what the day may bring. I look forward to when my daughter then awakens and says, "Hey, Mom, morning. Where's Brudder?" I may be exhausted but when these two ask to dance, we dance. If they ask to sing, we sing. And again, those hugs? Always hugs. Their smiles and laughs and giggles keep me (us) going. They make us laugh even when the gravity of reality tries to pull us down. We are stronger, smarter and more in tune because that is who our children have helped us become. With that, another one of Ma's faves: this, too, shall pass,  floats across my mind at least thirty times a day - kinda like that breeze she was fond of. 

...

"Thank you, God, for all of my blessings. God bless Daddy. And God bless the Chicago Cubs"... My son's nightly prayer is so poignant, so honest, and so reminiscent of how I must stop the daily few minutes of feeling sorry for what we don't have and make sure we don't miss out on what we do. The most important thing we have right now is Love. Love from our children, from our family, and from our friends. It's right in front of us. And that's more valuable than anything money can buy. 

Even more than a World Series ticket.

So I guess it's little Jimmy who owns this teachable moment. We have a lot of blessings, even in a valley. We have each other. And we always have those Cubbies. 

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1986. 

"What does 39 and holding mean, Mom?"

It means I won't get any older than 39 years.

"I don't get it"

Someday you will.

...

Someday. 

July, 2016.

"Wow, you're going to be 39 this year, Da"

Shut up, Dad

"HA HA HA"

For the record, this was the first and last time I have ever told my father to "Shut Up!"... in the almost 39 years I have been on this earth. Couldn't help it, though. It came flying out of my mouth before I even realized what I had said. Good thing Pops has a sense of humor.

...

Wow, 39. 39 and Holding. Finally, I understand. I'm pretty sure if I dug into my Dad's closet, I would be able to find the original "39 and Holding" t-shirt I had inquired about so long ago (after all, he still has an original teal Members Only jacket that he wears on occasion and I beg him to sell for "big bucks" on eBay. I'm talking ORIGINAL, people. Teal. From 1985). 

39 and Holding. As I write this I think of the little gem my Dad often says, "Getting old sucks, Kid." Can't help but smile at some of the truth to that. 

...

If you tell me a date, say 1982, I place myself toward the left in my mind, as if my life is a timeline found on the chapter introduction of a Social Studies textbook. 2000ish, I move toward the middle and 2016, I move all the way to the right of my memories, leaving blank space even further beyond that for what's to come. I do the same with the yearly calendar. In thinking of October, I move toward the right of my yearly timeline and if we are talking about spring break, the timeline leans left, indicating the end of March.

When you tell me 39, I see it as the dead middle of my life's timeline. I'm hopeful to live to 78 (or better) but somehow I have always thought of 39 as the absolute center of my existence.

And 39...could there be an uglier number? Almost old enough to check the next box when they send out the Publisher's Clearing House survey but too old to shop in the Junior's section. 39...should I be driving a minvan now? 39...should I feel "old"??? 39... am I now the "middle-aged teacher??? - Good God, please no" 39... What have I learned? 

39 and Holding should be "39 and Growing"...

39 years. Wow, am I ever lucky? I have lived, loved, learned, taught, laughed, cried, failed, succeeded, and have found peace. I have done more than some people do who live to age 78 and I am still growing every day. If 39 is the absolute center of my life's timeline - I still have a lot to live and do and see and just BE. 

...

39. Now I'm inching closer to the right of my life's number line. Ouch. With that comes aches and pains and age spots and stupid adult problems like money for taxes and preschools and the f'ing vacuum repairs and the dumb dryer that eats my socks. And the dishwasher. Could someone please invent one that loads and unloads itself already? 

Sometimes I wish I could just rewind time like we used to on the old VHS videotapes that seemingly took forever. I would park myself in the middle of the couch on Waverly Road, turn the tv dial to some Sesame Street and eat Crispix Cereal and Five Alive juice for a snack. I would put myself at the beginning of my timeline, snuggled in close to my Ma and Dad and sister, and not have a care in the world. 

So with that, this blog entry is brought to you by the letters "F and U" and the numbers "3 and 9"... 

Kidding.

Kinda.

As for now, I will hold on to my Dad's gem, just as he does, with a smile: "Getting Old sucks"...or at least until he dumps that teal Members Only jacket.

Caterpillar Park

They say a picture is with a thousand words. 

This is my Maddy. My feisty, playful, doting and (at times) my Moody Maddy. I could think of a thousand ways to describe her (just as someday she will be able to do for me - most likely when she is about 15)... but the single word that defines her is Resilient.

Never would you know by looking at her now what a struggle the first few months of her life were for her (or for me). What I see now is a vibrant, healthy, happy little girl who is physically and inherently strong. I'm pretty sure it's "Maddy's World" and everyone around her is just living in it. 

This photo was taken at one of our favorite spots, which we've come to call "Caterpillar Park"... The kids love to try out all of the equipment and climb through the caterpillar tunnel- hence the nickname. At the close of this trip, the Mads decided she was going to tackle the uneven terrain of the drawstring-type bridge on the bigger piece of the playground. I watched closely as she moved with intention. This bridge was hers! She cautiously took a few steps while quietly whispering "Easyyyy" to herself. She almost made it across on the first attempt but her sure little feet became a little unsteady and she slipped. I tried to capture the moment of her crossing the bridge all on her own; instead, I captured the moment in which she landed haphazardly on her hands. 

Snuggled in the tight hug I had waiting for her, I asked, "You okay, my baby?" to which she replied, "Yes. I try a'gin, Mom" with a tear and a wiggle out of my arms, she jumped right back onto the bridge to give it her best shot. 

Resilient.

I know of five year olds who would have taken that tumble and would have called it a day.

But not my Maddy. My resilient little girl.

I choked back the tug at my heart that reminded me how very blessed I am to have her in my life. These moments are what it's all about. Resilient.

To this little girl, this bridge was her hurdle to conquer. Nothing was getting in her way. Needless to say I didn't capture attempt #2 because I was too busy admiring her with pride and awe. She made it, by the way, shot a smirk and an "I DID IT!" in my direction that made me literally laugh out loud. 

Resilient. 

Funny, I didn't realize it until just now that that is how I would also describe a butterfly. No wonder she loves pointing them out. 







...
So with that, my dear, resilient Madelyn Marjorie: watching you from caterpillar to butterfly is a privilege of my life. Thanks for reminding me what it's all about. 

On Learning How to Be a Mom

Dear Jimmy and Maddy,

Someday.

Someday when you read this, I want you to know that I tried as hard as I could to be a great Mom to you. I played as hard as I could, loved and laughed as hard as I could, hugged as hard as I could. Cooked and cleaned??? Maybe not as hard as I could have. But that's okay. A crumb here or there never hurt anyone.

...

Everyday I wake up, I try to make each day right by you. I want more smiles than tears, laughs than sads, screeches of delight than screeches of toddler angst. I think of all the things we can do to fill our days, to keep you the giggling, healthy, active little loves you are. Sometimes we "go on an adventure" and sometimes we're just hanging out at home. It doesn't really matter where we are, as long as you know that my favorite moments begin and end with you.

Understand that learning how to be a Mom without my own Ma, your GeeGee, isn't always easy. But you two, being the great kids you are, make learning and life easier. Thank you.

People have joked since the beginning of time that "babies don't come with a book of instructions..." I beg to differ. The instructions come from your own upbringing and they're tucked away somewhere in your head. Not a moment of your lives hasn't been influenced by the Grandma you never got to meet. I try to follow what she did with me when I was little - everything that worked while tweaking the things that maybe I had hoped had been different.

So when you are tucked in with a "blue" (a pacifier) and a "friend" (frog or minnie mouse), know that comes from GeeGee. And the white noise machine? She always had to have a fan on. When I ask if you're "snug as a bug in a rug" know that was her phrase, too. Speaking of being snug, if that blankie was warmed in the dryer for you, know I learned that from the Best.

And when you hear music on all day, every day, know that was her. She always had to have background noise on. When I interrupt your cartoon to check the weather when the sky is dark or how I have to turn off Luke Bryan in the car to switch to 720 WGN to hear the updated forecast? You guessed it. Then after the storm has passed, going from window to window on a "Rainbow Hunt"... Yep, her too.

Or how about when you cry and I offer you water - it's because "crying just makes your face puffy and just makes you tired" she would say. If I kiss your knees or head after you bump them? A "cool rag" on your head for a fever? All my Mama.

An apple a day, dirt cake in the summer, and Monster Cookies whenever we can bring out the ginormous mixing bowl... All her.

How about the arts and crafts we love? GeeGee was pretty creative, too. The incessant picture taking (like even pics of both of you on the potty?) Yep, all your Grandma.

The trips to the "flower park" to say a silent prayer and send up a balloon...  To not be afraid to talk about death or heaven or what comes next.    And the I love you...More???  All GeeGee.

And all your Mama. And now, all of it, all YOU.

Just the Way You Are

Two days ago, as we were in the throes of the "hat, coat, shoes" routine to get out the door in the morning, I watched as the Mads took notice of the small freckle that adorns her inner forearm. 

It's a beautiful little mark, which just so happens matches one I have, in exactly the same spot.

But to the Mads, it was a mark. A tiny dot of imperfection, whose existence she stumbled upon just days shy of her second birthday. 

Feverishly, she licked, pinched, rubbed, smooshed, smoothed out her skin, and then just stopped and stared at it. Damn thing didn't move. 

It was if I could read her mind: "dot...dot"...

She looked up at me, her proud mama observing in awe. If you've never noticed someone take notice of something for the very first time, it's a charming moment that should be savored. After a long pause, she held up her arm and said, "Help, please"... 

So I kissed it. 

She giggled, reluctantly put her coat on, and pushed up her sleeve to look at it again. 

"I love you just the way you are, baby girl..."

She gave me a look I couldn't help but think I've seen before. "More," she mumbled, and started off to the car to begin our day.

...


The moral of the story is simple: Take notice of what makes you different, embrace it, and your world will be a happier place. 

The other moral of the story: freckles don't come off, even if you try to lick them.

Leap of Faith

February 29th. 
I have an unusual fascination with dates and anniversaries and where I was or what I was doing on a certain date. It's enough to drive me (and those around me) crazy sometimes.

The last time the calendar turned to February 29th was four years ago today, in 2012. 

When I think about how much life has changed for me since the last time I wrote February 29th on the board in my classroom, my head begins to spin. 

It was the happiest time right before the saddest time of my life.

Ma was still here. I was only a few weeks pregnant with Jimmy. We were all beside ourselves with joy. A miracle baby. We lived in different house, we drove different cars, we had different expectations of what the future would hold. 

So much has changed in those mere four years...and it's gone by in the blink of an eye. Terrifying.

When I think about the next time the calendar will mark February 29th, it will be in 2020. 

Wow. 2020. Seems so futuristic, doesn't it?

Seems like light years away, but the truth is, it's just around the corner. Jimmy will be 7 and almost a half...and the Mads will be turning 5.  If J can do addition now, will he be working on Algebra then? (He certainly doesn't get the math gene from me)... Will M be loving Irish dance or will she prefer to swim instead? Will Mickey Mouse and Chik Fil-A still be favorites or will those loves be things of the past? Will I be in my 20th year of teaching and will Big J still be on days at the PD? Will we be lucky to have our loved ones close and in good health and not endure the pain of losing more? Will I finally have a clean car? Doubt it. Holy smokes, I just realized I will be 42 years old. F*ck. 

February 29th, I love and hate you for making me reflect on all of these things.

But today, I will take a Leap of Faith, and know that the Universe has a plan for all of us... and that sometimes it's okay for a date to come and go and not get so weepy. 

After all, it's just one day. And a Monday at that.

The Time of My Life

Looks like Life got in the way of the best intentions of keeping up with "More Seasoned Then." Each day is a whirlwind with these little ones always on the move: laughing, loving, learning, and dancing.

I wrote awhile back about how my Ma loved to  dance.  In secret, of course. I find it just awesome that every day Jimmy, Maddy, and I find a moment to fall in time with the music, probably country in nature, and dance. Watching those little feet bouncing, kicking, and tapping makes me feel happy, lucky, and proud...and it gives my heart a tug all at the same time. Life really does come full circle.

The other day, Jimmy was listening to his "iPot" (as he calls it), and found our wedding song: The Luckiest. I honestly have only heard it a handful of times in the years since we married. Each time I hear it, I can close my eyes and be right back to June 26, 2010. It was the happiest day of my life, I hope Big Jim's life- ha ha, and of my parents' lives... I know this because they both told me so.

.............

In the summer of 2010, once we arrived home from Aruba, my Ma had asked if I had "watched the wedding video yet?"... To which, I answered, "Nope..." I knew this disappointed her but I explained: "I have a memory of that day in my heart and in my mind that I don't want to change. I will watch it when I'm ready...sometime." I'm pretty sure she hung up on me with a "yah, whatever,"... but it's the truth.  

..............


So, here we are, close to six years later.  Finally, I was ready to watch the video. Ready to see if my memory served me right. Ready to see if my happiness was captured on video. I was ready. And I had my two little loves there with me, ready to see it, too. 

What I wasn't ready for was my reaction to seeing her.  There she was. Ma. So radiant, so beautiful, so happy. And I cried. A hard, ugly cry.

Little J looked at me and said:  "Mommy, don't cry. There's GeeGee. She is happy. And they're (pointing to the people on the dance floor) happy, they're dancin'..."

And he was right: There's no reason to cry. Ma lived her life the best way she knew how: happy. That's how she chose to spend the Time in her Life. And that's how we all should. 

And just like that, the memories I have of her last 13 days, spent in the hospital, were instantaneously replaced with this one.

She would be very pleased with that. 


After all, nobody puts Margie in a corner.