Guys. It’s been a minute. But I finally found my way to the depths of the depression phase in the cycle of my grief. Yup, 80 degree weather, sunshine, summer, all my favorite factors around me still couldn’t save me from the chokehold of depression. Good news is, I’m passing through the anger phase, though I do find myself sometimes in a little tropical storm of very bad and scary feelings, and then the next and “final” stage is acceptance. Wow do I look forward to that. But for now, here we are. Down in the valley of depression. And I gotta tell you. It sucks. It’s scary. It’s scary for me and for Dan and to most the other people in my life they just plain don’t understand how I could possibly still be sad. Some people still don’t listen when they ask me questions, and I answer, but I answer anyway. Thing about me is I’m not a one word type of chick. I dive deep. My words get soaked with tears. I can wring my soul out with the amount of times I’ve sobbed over this enormous absence. My face gets wrinkly. My body goes stiff. It’s just an ugly way to be. But this is who I am right now. This is what I came here to experience this time. I truly never thought I’d have to do so many hard things alone. Make these huge, incredible decisions for the rest of my life, rootless and without a mom. And well really, without a father either. It’s been since November that I’ve seen him or heard him speak. He hasn’t seen my kids and hasn’t a care in the world to try and make things right. Tells people I’m the one missing out. But that’s his story I suppose, not mine.

So here we are, 4 days before the 2 year anniversary that I watched my beloved and strong mother be taken off of life support, and within an hour, I watched her take the most excruciating last breaths. It’s like war inside my head when I think of the images burned into my brain. It’s a war I don’t wish on anyone. Matter of fact, I wish when everyone else’s mom passes on, that she’s one hundred and ten years old and drifts away peacefully in her sleep.

This month I’ve finally reached the end of a really scary scenario I found myself in with my littlest baby. I was knocking down doors searching for answers that could have easily scared me; but long story short GOD is ultimately GOOD, and Ace; and Maverick alike, are healthy and robust little boys that will do great and important things in their lifetimes. And I get to be their mom. I get to be with them and my husband, my brother and my sister. My extended families that give a shit about me and mine. Sisters who call me and listen to me whimper on the other end. And sit and listen, and say little but so much. Sisters who drive hours in the car for one first birthday party and spend one beautiful morning together talking and holding our babies. Sisters that ask how they can help and stop in, and hug, and watch my babies on a moments notice. A sister who literally saves my life every damn day. She gets me in my darkest night. Loves me and celebrates me when I’m shining. She loves on my babies hard in the moments where I feel too sad to move. Allie, I hope you know how much I appreciate exactly who you are. My brother, my mighty strong brother who helps me look at things in a different light. Calls me at the exact minute I start to feel down because we’re just wired like that. My sweet and steady husband who has only broken once in the last two years, and remains a constant, a rock, an absolute angel to me. I love you endlessly. A nana and papa who somehow manage to spread their love like absolute WILD FIRE to all of us and me and my babies.

I mean, hey. This may not seem like a pretty, feel good post but it’s real. Because the absolute disaster that was the worst day of my entire life? It happened. And it’s woven inside my soul and it runs through my veins. Most days aren’t SO hard, but the hard days are damn near crippling to me. I don’t expect any differential treatment from the rest of the world, because I surely am nothing special. But what I’m trying to say is – I have a lot of good. Like an absolute shit ton of good. And I’m trying so hard to focus on that good, to make my heart a happier place, to make my soul feel big and weightless again. To help declutter some of the sad mess from my brain. So I just want to thank the ones who showed up during the worst time and n e v e r left. For the ones who may remember me one way, and are growing through the pain with me while I find my new self. For the ones who never ever signed up for this but are riding the waves of grief with me the best way they know how.

Life is certainly unchartered. I certainly didn’t ask to have this sad situation come rip my life up and spit me back out, I didn’t ask to change, but this is what happened for me. Life is up and down and messy and it hasn’t been neat for me since, idk probably I was 14/15 years old. But here I am, living the best life I can and trying to manifest my sadness and hurt into something greater than me. Because that’s what my mother always did.

To my mother, my queen. You. Are. So. Missed. You are missed on the good days and especially on the hard days. Missed on the days I see coming and the days that show up out of nowhere. Mama, you are loved through all of time and space. I love you a little bit more every day that goes by. I hate having to live without you, and to make and do and celebrate and despair without you. And sometimes? To sit in a room full of people and feel so lonely because you’re still gone? That may be one of the hardest realizations to feel. I wish you could be here physically. If only I could touch you, hear you laugh and watch you hold my babies. Share with you the good news and ask your advice on the hard stuff. To sing karaoke with you on a Wednesday night. To have you sit in my chair at work and complain the water is too hot. To order your tea on the way to your house on Mondays. Ugh. To reminisce about these things is just so awful. I just. miss you. I love you. And mama, I still needed you here.