Vanilla Custard Pudding

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would have to say goodbye to my mother so unexpectedly. I took it for granted that there would be another day, another opportunity to see her. To do something nice for her. To tell her that I loved her, and that I was sorry she had had such a tough time. It broke my heart every day to see that she was traveling down a slippery slope. The end of the journey was inevitable, and I felt incapable of saving her.

When the moment arrived, I fed my mother vanilla custard pudding. It was her last physical connection to this world. She took it in with urgency and delight. She looked into my eyes, thanked me and slipped away into unconsciousness.

For the next couple of days I sat with my mother knowing she was never going to wake up. But I knew she could hear me. So I whispered that I loved her. That she had been a great mother. I thanked her for giving me life. I reminded her of happy moments we had shared. I never mentioned the unhappy ones. Or the pain and fear I had felt many times in my life. I never led on about the sadness buried deep in my heart  for all the could have's, should have's, and would have's. I wanted to send her off with beautiful words and love. She deserved it.

When I got the call shortly after midnight, on the day my mother died, I finally understood what it felt like to loose the most significant person in one's life. She had made such an impact on who I am. It's been almost four months since my mother passed away. I can hardly believe it.  Not a day goes by that I don't think about her, talk to her, or miss her.  But I am happy that she is now with the angels and free of pain. Vanilla custard pudding will never taste the same again.

Puberty and Menopause

A collision of hormones has invaded the peace and serenity of my home. My 12 year old son, going on 25 has gone nuts - I can see the glazed look in his eyes as he does his 8 minute ab workout and runs diligently on the treadmill daily. The culprit, a 12 year old girl who has vowed to be just friends. Rejection at such a young age is brutal, but it doesn't get easier as we age. Human nature and the ego step in to confront the reality that in your mind is not real. Of course rationalizing is always fun. "Oh, she/he really likes me, I can tell how nervous he/she is around me". No no no my son, when someone likes you they want to be there regardless if you are 12 or much older!. But I don't dare say that to him because I know it is his journey and only he must experience it.

I have lived my journey thus far and though I know the rules he must learn them on his own. So I sit and watch his life evolve and I allow him to use me as a punching bag, but only sometimes. Other times my own crazy hormones will hear no of it! So we go back and forth loving, laughing, arguing, yelling, ignoring and making up. My son and I seem to be on a simliar journey at very different stages of life. Looking for love...without it, the color of the sky is gray, the ocean dark and the forest damp. With it everything is beautiful and the world is bright. So we continue to get up each day and do what must be done and we pray that love comes. But even on those days when it still has not arrived there is joy.

A collision of hormones has invaded our lives and everthing is changing. Thank God!