You know my mother always disliked depressing people. These were people who talked about their illnesses, real or imagined, all the time. Or people who complained about stuff...husbands, kids, jobs all the time. They all got lumped together as being depressing. The thing is if you met my mother you would never know of her secret distaste for "depressing people". My mother greeted and treated everyone with kindness, compassion and respect.
So it is with mixed emotions I write this post about January 10th. I usually post about my Mom on her birthday which is August 9th, but she usually gets a mention on January 10th as well. January 10th is the anniversary of her death. And now that I have mentioned this event here on my blog I officially belong to the category of depressing people. Trust me, she's sighing AND rolling her eyes.
While my Mom would cherish the idea that we remember her and still keenly feel her loss three years later, she would verbally kick our butts for still grieving. At every fall and stumbling block in life she was yapping at our heels to get up and get on with our lives.
"No one is going to send you an engraved invitation to your own life," she'd say.
But when you have such a person IN your life there is a big hole when they are gone. So Mom, I've been thinking about you a lot the past few days. I wanted to write about it so I could get on with my life. So maybe I'm a little bit depressing, but thankfully I know you love me anyway and will be yapping at my heels before I know it to get up and get on with it.
By the way...what did you think of the scrapbooks?