Everyone always tells you not to take anything for granted, but I guess you never really hear those words until something forces you to.
Early on the morning of March 23rd, I had just stepped out of the shower when I received a phone call from my dad. Something had happened, the ambulance was taking my mom to the hospital, could I meet them there. I threw on some clothes and raced to the car. It took me less than 10 minutes to get there in the early morning hours, but I was too late. At 57, my mom was dead from a brain aneurysm. I remember being told there was nothing anyone could have done. I remember feeling like the world had dropped out from beneath me. I was just hanging in this suspension of disbelief.
I’m not writing this for sympathy. Sympathy we’ve got. My mom touched so many people, and the outpouring of love and support has been amazing and overwhelming, and we are so grateful to everyone in our lives for being with us at this time. I’m writing this because I seem to just need to get it out. Putting that day into words seems to be the therapy I need right now. I’m also writing this to let you know that I will be taking a break from the blog for a while.
My mom was my first phone call every morning. She was the one who not only taught me to cook, but taught me to love cooking. She was the first one to hear of my successes (and failures!) in the kitchen, and my main recipe swapping buddy. Mom didn’t mind the dirty work of sanding furniture or digging in the yard and was right beside me for most of my projects around the house.
Mom was proud of this blog, and always wanted to know what was coming up. She was my biggest cheerleader, telling all of her friends about it, and I know she would want me to continue. I do plan to continue, but for now, writing about the recipes she taught me and the projects she wanted to help me with is too hard.
It’s been two weeks, and I’m still swimming in emotions and thoughts about life, love, and loss. I have so many words about making more time for the ones you love, but I think for now, the best thing for me to do is to leave it all alone and just try to be at peace. Thank you for your support and understanding; I hope to be back sooner rather than later.
Happiness at Home 