"Hello...is this 2-0-1-5?"

MILESTONES AND OUT WITH THE OLD...
Yesterday marked two months since my mom's passing.  With the holidays of Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's encompassing those two months and all the requirements and gatherings involved with said holidays, the time flew by!  I survived not too much worse for the wear.  

I did shed quite a few tears and had some down times--not surprisingly during food prep events, as mom loved food--traditional holiday dishes especially--and was always so appreciative when I would cook or bake for her.  I found myself feeling inadequate with each dessert I attempted--second guessing whether or not I was preparing it correctly without her experienced eye assisting in the process.  

I admit I had a couple of spectacular meltdowns during the making of her fudge and her butterscotch pecan cookies as she would always assess the done-ness for me and make yummy noises during the first sampling, and it was heart wrenching for me that she wasn't here to do that.

If it weren't for the constant reminders I get from Mom, I would probably plunge into a deep depression.  The appearance of a purple butterfly in the most unlikely places keeps me going and gives me hope and peace that she is in a better place, and we will be together again one day.

Slowly, I am working on the arduous task of "going through things" at Mom's house.  

It has been harder to part with the "things" than I thought it would be.  I have been thinking about how I found her that Sunday morning two months ago and thinking about ways I could have prevented that moment. And "things" like clothing she wore or books she had on her shelf seemed like all I had left of her.  

After reading Glenn Beck's book, "The Christmas Sweater," I came to realize that instead of thinking about things, I needed to be remembering feelings I had when Mom and I were together.  I need to hold on to the feelings and not the "things."

This week, a purple butterfly was nestled in and amongst a drawer of dishtowels and potholders--a drawer I had not ventured to the bottom of, I might add, since unpacking Mom's kitchen 4 years ago so had no recollection that the dainty lace creature with the black chenille stem body was tucked inside.  

A beautiful journal completely blank and ready to be filled with all the thoughts I have been purging here in this blog was another recent find.  The 240-lined pages of the journal include two purple butterflies on each page.

IN WITH THE NEW...
At precisely 12:00 AM January 1, 2015, I posted the following on Mom's Facebook page:

"RING, RING!  Hello?  Is this 2-0-1-5?  Yes, it is!  HAPPY NEW YEAR! to you in heaven, Mom!  Missing you.  Love you."

A ritual passed down from mom's mom to me was to call each other at the stroke of the new year to inquire if the correct number had been reached by stating the new year's numbers one at a time.  The other ritual was to step outside on the porch with a pot or pan and wooden spoon and literally ring in the new year with a loud drumming beat to wake up the neighbors if they hadn't made it to midnight.  I'm happy to report that my kids took care of carrying on that noisy tradition.

My daughter has been painting her emotions while I blog mine.  Her latest creation entitled "Always" is a woman sitting in a cemetery who has recently lost someone.  The woman falls asleep and begins to dream.  In the dream, the one that she's lost comes to her and the woman says to the loved one, "I miss you, why aren't you here?"  The the loved one replies, "I am always here...I am always with you."

I am looking forward to the new year and recording all the blessings and opportunities in my new journal.  I can't wait to see where the next purple butterfly will appear; and while I know I will have times of sadness, I am so very thankful for the years I shared with my mom and continue to know that she is always with me wherever I go.