A mother's daughter

"Lying down in Charleston under the Carolina sky,
You see, I’m tired of feeling this pain.
I’m tired of living my own little lie.
And it makes me wonder
When I see you in my dreams,
Does it mean anything;
Are you trying to talk to me.

I see you in my dreams,
And I wonder if you’re looking down at me
And smiling right now.
I wanna know if it’s true,
When he looks at me,
Won’t you tell me,
Does he realize he came down here,
And he took you too soon."

-- Not Even the Trees, Hootie and the Blowfish



Zoe's been asking about my mom, so we went to visit her. Also, some guy at work cracked a joke about being so stressed he thought he'd have a brain aneurysm, and it made me wonder if us kids just stressed my mom to death. OK, OK, I know, not too funny, but she would laugh by now, so you laugh too. She was really REALLY funny, and like me (surprise) got through the hard stuff with a little levity, perhaps sometimes mildly inappropriate or questionable.

Sometimes when I crack a joke that doesn't go over well I secretly apologize to her. She was the queen of gag gifts in my family and always hit the mark telling a funny story. She always made everyone smile; it was her gift.


Zoe didn't at all seem fazed that we were visiting a piece of granite in the ground. She seemed to understand that someone who died was there, and why we were there. She was more inquisitive about how my mom got sick, and if me and my mommy missed each other. And we finally gave a name to my mom for her: Grandmommy.

I tried to be careful to explain in simple terms that not everyone who gets sick dies... that not everyone who dies was sick...

I thought she might be too young to understand, but she gave me great comfort and seemed very intuitive about the whole experience.

Then she wanted to get back in the car.

"I'm tired, Mommy. Bye Grandmommy. See you later."


Zoe picked out flowers to give to Grandmommy.