Kitty litter, prescriptions, and rented movies

"Kitty litter, prescriptions, and rented movies"-02/01/06

My lazy evening on this first day of the month has been really good for me. I think. I've actually spent the majority of it picking up things here and there, and cleaning off my desk. I could be studying, but my brain is in no mood to pull out the books for some hardcore reading.I've been thinking about my mom a lot lately. I realized a couple days after her birthday that I had forgotten it. It really hurt to think that I'm slowly forgetting dates like that, and really moving on. I cried myself to sleep that night and skipped classes the next day. I skipped classes because I felt sick, but I think that sickness was due in part to just simply missing my mom.

Recently I've been in one of those, "Look at all she's missing" moods. Valentine's Day is coming up. The majority of my single friends despise the day. I actually rather enjoy it. I don't really know why, but I do. My mom really loved all holidays, including Valentine's Day. I remember one of the last Valentines she shared with us was when I was 14. I came home from school pissed off about some "unbearable situation" at school. She told me to clean up the living room and kitchen. I told her, "no" and stomped up to my room. She yelled up the stairs to come back down. I stomped back downstairs. "If you clean up the rooms then you can have your Valentine's Day card. It's in the bathroom." I remember thinking to myself at that moment, Why the hell is my card in the bathroom? I didn't say anything though, I just started cleaning slowly. I wasn't in too much of a hurry. I appreciated her getting me a card though so I apologized for being a brat and continued cleaning. I remember my mom just sitting there, watching me clean the living room. She'd occasionally smile and then walk back into the kitchen.

Half-way through the cleaning of the first room she told me to go ahead and get my card. She told me I could wait and finish cleaning after. I told her it was okay and that I would finish cleaning before getting my card. Her smile widened and she said, "No no no. Get it now!" My mom followed me as I headed to the bathroom to pick up my card. I could feel her smiling behind me. I opened the door. There was no card. There was nothing. I turned around. By this point I had decided she had gone mad. I shot her a, "Uh..." look. She started laughing and her whole face brightened. "Look in the tub," she said. There, sitting in the bathtub were two jack-russell terrier puppies. Both had red bows tied around their little necks. They sat there looking up at me, like they had been waiting for hours. My mom came over and stood next to me. "You can pick which one you want to be yours," she told me. I'm sure my smile spread from ear to ear. I hugged her and then got to the floor to pick up the beautiful puppies.

The beauty of my mom was her giving spirit, and the true happiness she gained from seeing other people she loved happy. My mom was complicated and unpredictable, yet still, to this day, she is the most unique and intelligent person I've ever met. She had a great passion for being a mom. I miss her.

Time marches on. People grow up. Time never stops. People move on.

I don't remember a lot about the final years of her life, because of all the struggles we had during that time. Sometimes I think about the afternoons I'd come home from school when I was younger, and she'd be sitting there with an after-school snack, balancing her checkbook. Receipts would be scattered around the table. A to-do list would sit in the corner that always included at least 3 things, "Get kitty litter, re-fill prescriptions, take back movies." I'd sit down where she had cleared me a spot. She'd put down the checkbook and ask how my day was. I'd respond, she'd smile, and then begin to sift through more receipts.


That's the good stuff.