Today is a month ago that Mother died.  A month.  It was so sudden, yet expected.  We thought we were ready for this to happen...guess you never are.

We also just got back from vacation today.  I was a bit unsettled and dreading a portion of the vacation. This was the same beach house that we took Mother too a month before she died. My Sisters & I "happened" upon this enormous feat in April. What was suppose to be a getaway weekend for Beth & I turned into Mother's last trip to the beach with her daughters....which was a much better idea. And I'm so glad it worked out that way. It was meant to be and it was definitely a God Thing.  When we left the beach that day, we never knew that is just 4 short weeks she would be gone.....

While at the beach house this past week I couldn't help but think about my little Mother.  I slept in the same bed that she and I slept in.  I sat on sofa in the same spot she had sat.  I looked out the same glass doors she scrubbed and cleaned.  Today, I cleaned a spot off the kitchen floor that had bothered her and we wouldn't let her "clean" it b/c we were afraid she would fall.  When Kent ask what is the world was I doing...I said I was doing if for Mother.  He understood. 

Two weeks ago, I thought about her and thought "I need to call Mother", then just as quickly I remembered.  I miss her.  Not like my sister Beth, because she lived with Beth.  She was part of her daily routine.  It's different.  Also, I think it is because of my career.  Being a nurse and a nurse that has cared for Hospice patients as well as still working for a home care & hospice agency, I'm use to death.  Sorry, I don't mean to be offensive.  But to me, death is part of life.  No, it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt when people you love die, because it sure does.  It took years for me to quit crying and mourning my daddy's death.  But that was 17 years ago.  I've learned a lot since then.  And I'm older. 

I've lived away from my family for 31 years.  I've often wondered why God had me, the baby, move 4 hours from my family.  We knew our move was God ordained.  And it hurt so badly.  I cried for 2  years.  But then, this became home.  Our children were raised here.  New memories were made.  It was still a "trip" to go back home...but we did.  But the move was necessary for growth as a couple, a family and maturity.  Not always easy.  Some times down right hard.  But done.

So Mother being gone is not new to me.  I saw her about every 2-3 months.  It will probably hit me kind of hard within the next month.  In fact, that is probably why I thought about calling her recently.  We visited by phone...often.  Usually not long conversations.  But enough to share, laugh, spread some family news or chat a little. 

A month...I can't believe it.