After work today, I picked up Jake, grabbed a truckload of szechuan chicken, and headed over to Megan's where she had pie from Sandy's waiting. The pie, and some sort of dinner, is something we do every year to celebrate my mom's birthday and I love it. It's a great, and happy way to remember her. There were no tears (not from the adults anyway), just a simple good time. Ava had been saying happy birthday all day, and when Megan asked who's birthday it was, she said "Your mom's". (funny because that's usually a snide comment.) I asked her if she thought she was so lucky to have a grandma in heaven and a grandma here. She nodded with a big ol' smile on her face.
When I got home and got Jake to bed, I started to go through a box of pictures and old cards that Megan had given me. In it was pictures of me at 2 days old that I'd never seen. Pictures from my blessing and from when I was learning to roll over. There were birthday cards for me and my mom from years past. But the one thing that hit me the hardest was the bag of sympathy cards that my grandparents had received when we lost my mom. Many of them went far beyond just signing the card. They had the most heartfelt messages inside. I suddenly felt so blessed, and comforted all over again seeing how much love we were surrounded by during what was easily the hardest thing I've ever experienced.
Cleaning out my dad's and grandparents houses was certainly a bittersweet thing. Bitter because it hurts all over again to find some of my mom's things and the reminders that she's gone. Sweet because I now get to hold all of those memories in my home, to one day share with Jake and our other children. They will know their grandma. They'll know all about her as if she is here with us. And they will know that she is here with us, every hour of every day. I hope one day they'll realize how very lucky they are to have that "grandma in heaven."
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