March 10, 2013

10 Mar

Hello Moother,

It’s been a few days. I had started to check in a few times but never got around to it. This past week has been wild. I was getting over a fever and some kind of bug, went to Boston for a writer’s conference, and am finally home. 

Today, I miss you so much. I wished I could have called you when I got back so I could tell about my trip. I sat in on some great discussions about writing and reading. I even had my hand at some networking. I didn’t feel like such a loser since some of my work is finally published at a relatively decent publication. 

The night before I left for Boston I had dinner with Shannon and two of my other girlfriends in Charlotte. We were talking girl talk when we got on the subject of running. The girls told me that they created a team for a race called the Sarcoma Stomp. They named the team We Love Lucy. We are running in your honor on April 20! I was so touched and felt so loved. 

I thought being away would be a distraction from how much I miss you, but instead I was reminded of you all week. At the airport, on my way to Boston, these three girls about the same age difference as Michelle, Joanna, and me were traveling with their mother. They were all laughing and having a grand ole time at the airport. Every once in a while they would have a little argument, but still they reminded me of the three of us. Even the way they all laughed was similar. I think their inappropriate volume is what started my feeling nostalgia. It was painfully sweet. 

At the conference, I was reminded of how you probably would have absolutely hated most of the people there. Many of the people at the conference spoke of themselves, rarely engaging their peers in questions. Most of them also dressed so badly. It made me glad you taught not to always be talking about myself because that is obxious. I’m also glad you taught me to care about my appearance. When I was younger, I didn’t understand what the big deal was, but as I’ve gotten older being fashionable and not looking like a slob has become increasingly important. 

I was also reminded of you at the conference when I sat in at a reading by Amy Bloom and Richard Russo. Amy Bloom read from her forth coming novel and the excerpt was about childhood. The writing was beautiful, and I thought about how it would be nice to send you the book and then we could both read it together and discuss it as we always have with books we loved. Richard Russo read an excerpt from his memoir. In the excerpt he wrote about his mother’s death and his daughter’s wedding. It was interesting and made my chest swell with pain because I could tell that his pain, though not recent like mine, had not subsided. Even as read, he was reliving the pain and he had when wrote it and experienced it. This saddened me. I keep hoping the pain will go away, as if a cut that will eventually heal. There are days when I’ve scabbed over then suddenly it’s reopened and bleeding again. 

This week I will be mentally preparing myself for the weekend. I know I should be excited to go home and see Daddy, Joanna, and Michelle but it is going to be so painful to go home and know you’re not going to be there. It’s not like you’ll come in eventually because you’re working or running errands. You won’t be back at all, and I would seriously kill to just sit down and have some coffee with you. 

I’ve been trying to process why you’ve left and what lesson God has in store for me. I can’t quite understand why you couldn’t be around for longer so you could meet your grandchildren and help me be a mother.  I can’t understand why I’ve been deprived of shopping and coffee with you. I don’t get it, and it infuriates me. 

Well, now that I’m sufficiently upset I will sign off. 

I love you,

G

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