Yesterday marked the 1-year anniversary of Marianne's passing and we spent the day remembering her and missing her. In the past year, Marianne has crossed my mind at least once a day and the thought sometimes brings a smile and others times a tear. Sometimes the thoughts come at unexpected times, like when I'm scrolling through the phone numbers on my phone trying to find someone's number and her cell number pops up, because I just can't bring myself to delete it. I've been tempted at times to just call the number, hoping maybe her voice would still be on the anwering machine, but never do, because most likely I know it would say the number's been disconnected....something I just don't want to hear.
It's just little things that remind me of her...a song, a scripture, walking through a craft store, something my kids will say or just a memory that will come out of the blue. I don't dwell on my sadness and feelings of loss for very long because life has to go on and I have my little kiddos to keep me busy. Yesterday, however, was the exception. I watched the Marianne video that I hadn't seen since the funeral, I listened to the recording of the funeral, I cried and held my little ones tight.
Jordan had asked me a few days ago if he could write a letter to Marianne, not even knowing her death day was coming up. I asked him how he would get it to her and he said he wanted to tie it to a balloon and let it go. Yesterday I decided it was time to start a new tradition. I went to the store to get some balloons and the lady at the counter asked if I was celebrating someone's birthday. I was caught off guard by the question and started crying and could barley utter an explanation for why I was buying the balloons. Needless to say, we were both a complete mess by the time she handed them to me. It's amazing how good a hug from even a complete stranger feels when you need it most.
When Jordan got home from school the kids wrote little love notes to Marianne telling her they loved her and missed her. We went outside and they said, "We love you Marianne" as I cut their balloon strings and we watched them float away until they were gone from view.
I vividly remember the last time Marianne saw my kids. She had some friends over at my parent's house and the driveway was full of cars so I had to park across the busy street. After her friends left we hung out at the house for a little while and I helped her fold laundry and get packed because she was meeting Mike at the airport and he was going on the STP bike race. When we went to leave she followed me to the end of the driveway, which surprised me because she was pretty wiped out physically from all she had done that day. We had a good hug and I then grabbed my kids' hands and we quickly ran across the street. I was getting ready to open the car door when I had the thought, "make a memory....remember this moment." I looked back at Marianne and she was still standing there, just watching us with the biggest smile on her face. She said, "Emily, you have the cutest little family...you are such a good mom!" She had such a look of pride and love on her face. We both got a little teary as we said "goodbye" and "I love you" one more time before I got into the car. I think we both knew at that moment that that would be the last time she would see my kids. I was able to visit her one more time after that, but the Marianne I knew was no longer there...she had lucid moments, but it wasn't the same.
I love that we had that moment together and I know she's still smiling down on us with that look of love on her face for "my cute little family!" How we miss her......
