Crying in my bed because 5 years later, my mom is still dead. While she is frozen in time at 65 years old, I am getting older. My once excellent eyesight has changed. I need glasses. Like really. Things sometimes double when I look at them. I went to the eye doctor- ok I went to two eye doctors, spoke to a third at length on the telephone , emailed my cardiologist, and texted with another general practitioner about my concerns. I did this, because like my mother, I have anxiety that makes me somewhat hypochondriacal. And also ever so slightly crazy. I admit to being a touch crazy because my mom was two touches crazy. I am proud to have that part of her in me. All doctors thus far have said my eye issues are due to aging mixed with stress and exhaustion. I need glasses with prisms in them to help my tired eyes focus. So I took some of my mom's glasses and had my prescription lenses put in. I put these glasses on, these glasses that once belonged to my mother, and I can see. Truly remarkable. One pair of her glasses is red and kookie. I love these. They feel extra comfortable on my face. Like when I am wearing them, she is with me. My mom would be so happy to know that my sister Stacy and I are rarely apart. And of course we are super close to our brother Brian, but he doesn't live next door to us. We've never talked about it really, but since my mother died, my sister and I really live like two old biddies who happen to have husbands and kids. We lived next door to each other before my mother died. But we have pretty much lived TOGETHER since she died. In a way I believe it honors my mom. She used to yell at us when we fought as kids- saying it was useless energy spent because one day we'd be best friends. She was right. We are. My mom would've made my sister's soon to be 45th birthday a national holiday. And I feel like a failure in advance because I can never match what she did/would've done. My sister Stacy got that festive part of my mom. But I will guarantee a yummy cake- because my mom (and I!) know cake. And I will guarantee some laughs. I'm working through the grief of losing her still. The impact of losing her keeps changing. Every new wrinkle, hormonal shift, feeling/acting/being exactly like her moment makes me crave my mom more. Tonight I am not seething with anger over losing her. I just feel sad. And a little lost. Still hard to find my way some days without my mom. I suppose it may always be this way. xo Jenny
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