This has taken me a long time to be able to write. Every sentence took a lot of emotional strength out of me. You can understand why when you read it.
I keep thinking about my mom. What amazing things she accomplished. But how terrible I feel that she didn't get to live her dreams. What I thought were her dreams. For the longest time I would weep at the song "live like you were dying" by Tim McGraw, well, maybe I still do this...
Although, weak in her last moments in life, I thought that she should have had the chance to go sky diving, or rocky mountain climbing. She should have been able to visit her family in Paraguay for the last time to say goodbye. I didn't think it was very fair. But worse of all, I thought it was my fault for not helping her do what she loved. I didn't spend the time I should have with her. I didn't call her everyday, or visit her everyday. I was so caught up with my own life. But what was I doing with my own life that was more important than spending a few minutes on the phone with her just to see if she was okay? Just to hear her voice. Now as I think about this, I cannot help but feel like a horrible daughter. Here is this poor woman, with her family so many thousands of miles away, who had a grown, newly married daughter who lived 15 minutes away during high traffic hours. I guess I never thought that the day would come when "wonder woman" was called back to a higher calling in life.
From the moment I received the phone call that would change my life, I packed my toothbrush, my body pillow for my growing belly, and my deodorant. Nothing else mattered. I called Justin to tell him and left our apartment. We both camped out on my parent's couch, for the week until hospice and the mortuary were done finalizing things at the house.
This part of the past in my life is one I cannot move on from very easily. Justin has been really supportive and has insisted that I did what I should have as a daughter. I have slowly come to terms that I can't do anything about the past, and that I did do what I could.
So, this Christmas I thought of her. Very much. I was able to send Christmas gifts to Paraguay to all my aunts and uncles and cousins in Paraguay. It wasn't much, but I was able to reach out to them and send them a memory of my mom. I also am keeping my mothers christmas tradition and sharing it now with my own family, and my husbands family. It was nice to reminisce about old times and spend time with family. I am glad that my mom taught me how to cook traditional Paraguayan food. I was able to prepare many dishes that we all crave from time to time and miss so much the way she used to make it. After several trial and error trying to replicate the more complicated and time consuming dishes, this christmas everything turned out almost as perfect as if she was the one who prepared them. It was fun seeing how happy my dad and Bernie and Martha were to have something as simple as the meal that was prepared. It didn't matter at the time what presents were waiting under the tree. Only that moment of happiness mattered.
I know I didn't get as much done as I would have liked to this year. But I think that I did okay. Now I am more prepared than ever to do what I need to do. To feel how I need to feel. To love how I need to Love and feel loved.
