Little treasures

I don’t have to look far to see you. I confess I have reminders of you in every place I could I think of. My biggest fear is forgetting any part of you.

I desperately want to hear your voice. Calling me your baby girl and telling me that I need to call more. Telling me that you love me. I want to tell you that I love you too. While searching for a voice mail on my phone I discovered that I had never deleted your voicemails this past year. I found one that I find myself listening to every few days. You say all the things that I need to hear.

I refuse to take your wedding ring off my right hand. It is nice and snug with Grandma’s wedding band. I hope it serves as a reminder of the marriages that they represented. I hope that I may have a marriage that is a strong as those two were.

I wear your t-shirts as pajama’s hoping that I will remember the warmth that I felt when you would wrap your arms around me.

I have the silly little stuffed Kermit. The night that you left I found it on your dresser and I slept with it every night, holding it tightly in my fist. I remembered Kermit always rode along in the “Tina Toyota”. We would pose him on the dash, or in the ashtray. He reminds me of our many adventures.

I went and bought a bottle of your favorite lotion. I have to put it on my hands nightly so that I can remember the smell of you. I would tease you that lavender was an old lady fragrance, but now it is the most tranquil and relaxing scent. After you left us, I could still smell it on your pillow. Some may find it silly, but that scent is comfort to me.

I have your wooden spoons in my kitchen. Every good Momma has wooden spoons. They remind me of ensuring discipline and boundaries for my children. You made sure that I understood respect and it’s value. I hope that my children learn the same lesson from me.

The blankets I have that were made by your hands, and the hands of grandma are all around the house. You made the kids each a blanket those are on their beds. I have others in the living room and my bedroom. There is nothing like wrapping up in them. It is as though I am wrapping myself in love. I once thought that I would keep them tucked away in the steamer trunk, so that they don’t get ruined. But then I thought that you made them so that I would enjoy them. There is greater enjoyment in snuggling in the blankets with a good book, then to have them tucked out of sight for decades.

I had painted my nails the other day. As I held my hand out to make sure I was satisfied with the color, I found myself crying. My hands looked just as I remembered yours looking. My hands may not be as talented as yours were. However, I only have to look down to see a part of you in me.

As I was growing up I always thought I favored my father. My dark eyes, dark straight hair, my olive complexion. It wasn’t until I started looking at pictures of you when you were my age now that I realized how much I resemble you. I have your smile, your nose, and the same shape face. Looking further at pictures of Gran I can see that you got much of that from her. As I watch Madie grow I can see that despite the fact that the four generations may have different hair and eye color, we all have that same shape face, nose and smile.

I have to accept that you are no longer with us. I feel the hole that is left now that you are gone. These few little things that I have that remind me of you have helped to soften the edges of that hole so that it doesn’t feel as though I can’t do this without you. I have you, everywhere. And I am so grateful to have that to carry me until I can see you again.

Love you, Momma.