Last year was easier for some reason. 2011 was really difficult, as expected, but 2012 wasn't too bad. I had just gotten married, got a new job, felt like things were finally going to start going my way. But 2013 has been such an awful year for so many reasons. Right now, I feel extremely overwhelmed, and I just wish I could talk to you again about job problems like I did on that last Friday night. You guided me without even knowing. You gave me motherly wisdom a little more that 24 hours before you passed. I've held onto that for so long, but I just wish I could hear it from you again. I just wish I knew if you would be proud of me no matter the missteps I've taken in my career path. I've moved up, but now it's getting rough again. I feel like I'm starting all over from square one.
I know I have my amazing husband next to me supporting everything I do and doing everything for our little family, and I know that's one of the main reasons you let yourself close your eyes. You knew I was in good hands. I have found out even more things he helped you with over the 9 months you two were basically roommates. He didn't want me to know because he didn't think it was a big deal. But knowing how kindly and lovingly my husband helped my mother when we weren't even engaged yet makes my heart absolutely burst.
I've tried to better myself. I was barely able to run around the hospital building when you were coding. Now I jog a mile with no problem. I was depressed and indulging in food. Now I go to therapy to work through these many years of issues, and I've learned how to change my lifestyle and not depend on food for comfort.
I try to seize opportunities that are fun and memorable. I try to cherish the small cozy things rather than getting caught up in materialistic things. I try to be kind and calmer. I try not to let my temper fly. I try to remember how positive you were even when things were really crappy.
I found things you wrote about me when I was a baby. I cherish that, as things are so different these days in terms of public writing and records. If I ever have a kid, they'll be able to find so much of my writing or pictures. I still get ridiculously excited when I find a picture of you I haven't seen before.
I just turned 33, and I still feel like I'm too young to have no parents whatsoever. Nan's not getting any younger, and while I'm thrilled she has a support system around her, I still worry like crazy. I feel so lucky to be welcomed into my husband's family. His parents have been wonderful to me, and I'm really happy that his mom and I have gotten closer. She wrote me a letter after you passed, and I cried re-reading it a couple months ago. I'm really glad you got to meet them 2 months beforehand.
Reconnecting with your best friend has been a major blessing in my life. I don't use that word often, but it has been. I feel like I have the chance to hear about you as a young lady rather than just C's mommy. And you were funny as hell....now I know I definitely got a big part of my warped humor from you. I will sometimes let out a ha-HA laugh that makes people who knew you do a double take.
I don't want to ramble, so I should wrap this up. However, I want to share one of the scraps you wrote about me when I was young:
She's determinedly crawling into and onto everything that looks even slightly dangerous. Who needs toys- when one has an existing universe of cat boxes, pointed pine furniture, and brass lamps that can be, with a little effort, pulled onto your fragile skull. Yes, my child is looking forward to experiencing
I had two sets of stitches in my head by the age of 6. Oops. Haha.
Miss you every day. It may not always be strong and overwhelming now, but it could be the littlest thing like hearing "Invisible Touch" on the radio that will set me off. However, I now know that's just a little piece of you checking in to say "hi" in your own way without overwhelming me.
