My purpose for this blog has many reasons. To have all that I've written about 2007 collected in one spot...to give others out there a story to see how life can continue after death...to work through some more healing that is left to be done on me...but then I remember the last reason. I called this blog, "Walk With Me". I was and am still in awe at how quickly things changed in my life. I wanted those that knew me then but couldn't quite get the full story of what was happening because I was still trying to figure out what was happening to finally see what my family endured. I wanted those of you that either met met after 2007 or have never met me at all to hear my story because it is my story and makes me who I am today. I wanted those of you who read this to take a step in time and see how sometimes, life is a train that keeps going; not allowing you to take the time needed to adjust to a new situation. I wanted this ability to pause what was happening in my life so I could take it all in, delay the inevitable, and make the right choices where needed. I didn't get that pause 8 years ago.
I have another post that was complete and supposed to be posted for today. But as I clicked on "On This Day" on my Facebook, I was taken aback by how quickly things can change in a year:
9 years ago I was giddy and eagerly counting down the days until my wedding, and a year later my world was upside-down. So I need to take this moment and pause. I need to take this all in. Because I fear if I post my original post first without saying what else I need to say, I let time win again and I can't let that happen again. I will post this other post later today when I am ready.
So let's all take a moment to pause on this flashback journey. I want to write about different times. Those of you who knew my mother prior would appreciate that and those of you who never met her can hear the wonderful and funny things about my mother that made her my inspiration.
My mother was amazing. She was from Italy; and she beamed with Italian pride. As a child, I remember listening to her, my aunt and my grandmother speak to each other in Italian. I would never know what was being said (minus the swear words!) but it was just so normal for me to hear during times spent with family. Gathering together meant eating pasta and sitting on furniture that was wrapped in plastic. This was our normal. While everyone was having just turkey and stuffing for Thanksgiving, we were having all that AND manicotti and sausage and peppers and meatballs. The same went for Christmas and Easter. Sure, there were only 6 of us in our celebrations when we first moved to Arizona in 1997, but Mom cooked it all anyway. We would eat leftovers for what seemed like an eternity after. But I never grew tired of it. It was Mom's manicotti and it was delicious. This was our normal.
My mother loved decorating for the holidays. I think that's why I love it now as an adult. She had boxes upon boxes of crocheted items, little figurines, her huge manger set (because...Italian, ya know?), and what seemed like EVERY SINGLE CRAFT we as kids brought home from school with our hand prints on it or the crazy amount of crafted ornaments for the tree. It took FOREVER to decorate. Because we couldn't have a single Christmas without the red bells that would hang on the stairs and chime "jingle bells".
And every year on Thanksgiving, our alarm clock was the smell of meatballs being cooked and my mother excitingly yelling up to us, "OOhh look the parade is on!!" We would get down quickly, as to "help" Mom taste-test the fresh meatballs and watch the rest of the parade. Even one year, we all took a train from Connecticut to New York and watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade in person. It was a wonderful memory. I think that's why I now get excited about the parade all the way here in Arizona. Its like my mom is joining my little family for the holidays now.
My mother, above all things, loved being a mother most. I look back and see how she was so devoted to all of her kids. I aspire to be like that. Yes, I see my "mother" coming out when I guilt trip-erhm- I mean deal with my own kids. I don't mind it at all.
In 2006, I was preparing for my wedding. I wore my mother's wedding dress. I tried my best to incorporate Italian themes into our wedding. Candy covered almonds and party favors, playing Italian-American music during the reception, and having the full Catholic mass. My mother and my sister threw me an amazing bridal shower. There was so much food, but this was our normal. Think "My Big Fat Greek Wedding", but Italian.
My mom loved country things. There were rooster and pig figurines all over her house. And clowns. She loved clowns. And I think that's why I enjoy having some of her figurines in my house. To bring me back to the years before. To the times where we were just a family with an Italian mother who gagged at the sight of ketchup and would lovingly say that wooden spoons made good sauces and good kids. I make a sauce now every Sunday just like she did. This was our normal. And with all this, my children are getting a chance to know my mom.
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