I was really excited recently when I heard that President Obama had nominated Sonia Sotomayor to the United States Supreme Court. Women make up 55% of the population of the United States, so it only makes sense that women should occupy at least half of the highest court in the nation. Not only that, but Sotomayor would be the first Hispanic to occupy one of the seats on the Supreme Court. It feels like this is long overdue considering that Hispanics/Latinos/Chicanos make up 15% of the total population of the United States.
Can you do me a favor? Actually, it’s really a favor for yourself. When someone comes up to you and asks this 6 letter question, I want you to say “no” and run away in the opposite direction.
Eight years ago today this beautiful girl came into my life. And life hasn’t been the same since. She has brought so much joy into my life. But parenthood is never easy and we’ve had our ups and downs. Reilley is fearless. I admire her spirit of adventure and spontaneity. She’s a gifted artist and can draw for hours. She is an amazing friend to all she meets and has a tender heart. She adores her little brothers. Reilley has always loved babies and she gravitates toward them. She is exceptionally good with younger children and has such a kind heart. She always tries her best and that’s more than I could ask for. She is the biggest girly girl I know and pink is her favorite color, of course. I could never fully capture her spirit in just a short paragraph.
So, I have to get something off my chest. Which is what this blog is really all about. Letting me vent and express my feelings in a safe environment, while also getting it out to the greater world, that I AM ANNOYED!!!
I have to be honest. Tonight I have pain in my heart. It’s amazing how grief actually physically hurts. Writing is about the only healthy way I have to express my feelings. Treating my loved ones like crap and caramelizing my pancreas with Mountain Dew aren’t exactly healthy coping mechanisms.
There are two reasons why my heart hurts so badly. First of all is my good friend Jeneane’s death, which I paid tribute to in my last post. I got the news on Monday that she had passed away that day, and after I finished bawling my eyes out, I called the compassionate service leader in my ward, my good friend Deanne. I asked if she knew when the funeral was and she didn’t, but I told her that if there was anything I could do for the funeral luncheon to let me know. Today she asked if I could make a cake. No problem, right? I left work at 8 pm tonight and stopped at the local Albertson’s before making my way home. I literally had tears spring to my eyes as I stared at all the cake flavors because at that moment I didn’t know how I could possibly decide what cake I should make for my friend’s funeral. How do you do that? Jeneane’s been my dear friend for 5 years and I never thought I’d be standing in a grocery store aisle crying while I tried to decide which flavor would adequately convey my love for her. There is no chocolate rich enough. Somehow I made the decision and bought all of the necessary things for this cake. I was going to make the cake tonight since I have to work tomorrow until the funeral. I still haven’t made the cake. Making it makes it real. As did seeing her obituary in print today. If I make that cake it means that Jeneane is really gone and I have lost a friend.
The second reason I am in pain tonight is because of Mother’s Day. I am very close to my mother. I wish I could call her right now and pour my heart out to her over Jeneane. But I can’t. I wish I could run to her and tell her how much I desperately miss her. But I can’t. I can’t do anything but miss her. On Mother’s Day I plan on laying flowers on her grave, but it won’t be enough. I had a mother who loved me, who would do anything for me, and was my best friend and confidante. And she’s not here anymore. Cancer stole her from me. From my children. Mother’s Day is just a big ol’ reminder that my mother is dead. Thank you commercials for shoving it in my face that in 3 days mothers around the world will be celebrated and mine will only be remembered. It hurts. I hate it. I have much to be thankful for, but I also have a huge gaping hole in my heart in the shape of my Mom.
I love you Mom. I love you Jeneane.