Word Dump Part 2,356,875

Be Prepared

This entry may not make sense to anyone. It’s OK. This is what I’ve been rummaging through in my brain recently.

I still walk around thinking you’ll just walk in and slam the door like you used to. I wait for it. It won’t happen. I know. I still wait for it. I keep wanting to talk to you about the pandemic. I know you’d be in a frenzy over preparing and being careful about everything. You’d probably throw a few conspiracy theories that “could be” behind it. There would be the endless jokes about it as well and I miss that so much. I seriously cannot believe your beautiful soul is not in your body any more. I know you’re here because I hear you. As I type this I know it was you making that sliding glass door creak. I feel you right here so I know it’s you.

Remember that time you bought the MREs and we had to keep them in the basement in that big container because “you never know, mom. We need to be prepared”.

Be Prepared
“Be Prepared”

I’m not prepared. I never was. I wonder what kind of “MRE’s” one could make for a mom who never wants to eat. I literally live off some vegetables and seafood, corn chips and cheese. Vodka. I hate love that shit. No more though. It’s a liar. By the way, I’m never going to The Olive Garden again. Ever. I don’t even think your grandfather realizes that the last birthday meal you two shared together was at your all time favorite birthday place and I miss you. I want to see you eat 4 bowls of that salad and go through your meal in 30 seconds. How many years did we do Olive Garden birthday salad. 10? 15? Probably 15. Had to be because we used to go there with your great-grandmother and she left in ’07.

18 minus 7. 11 years. You followed her 11 years later. How can that be. You really never had a clue as to how much she loved you. You must know now. We found about 25 chargers in your car when Alec and I cleaned it out to sell it. There they were. All those times you “cleaned” your car out. What was going through your mind?

Anyhow, I found the courage to look at our last messages on FB the other day. I miss you. I will make sure the cats have a way out in case of fire. You are still a good helper. You always will be. I miss you slamming the doors and then saying “Sorry, mom”. I hear you loud and clear. I always did.

The last message you sent me on FB messenger. I miss you.

You’re my first baby
(and you’re my second mama)

Author: Mom Mom Mommy Momma - Angela!

I was just Angela till I became a mom to my babies Andrew and Alec. I've had wonderful things happen and horrendous things happen in this journey of mine but through it all I still look for a smile and hope for better days ahead.

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