Archive for the ‘death of a mom’ Category

Mother’s Day….again?

Saturday, May 10th, 2014

Get MOM flowers for Mother’s Day! Take MOM to Brunch! Treat MOM to a spa day, or take her out for a whiskey sour, BLAH BLAH BLAH. I know it’s a sweet celebration of the women who cherish you as their sons and daughters, and I know that all the good mothers out there deserve a special day, but I can’t say I don’t get hit with the melancholy stick every May since Mom passed away.

missing mom

Don’t get me wrong, I think all hardworking, loving moms should have their own flower assistant — someone to follow them around and throw fresh rose petals at their feet as they go through their daily grind of ups and downs, laughter, scrapes, tears and, of course, all the blissful moments that life offers mothers too.

If you are a mom, Happy Mother’s Day to you, and I’m sending a huge bubble of love to the heavens, the stars, the moon and the sky — wherever my mom may be. Who knows…she could be right here by my side at this very moment.

Love & Miss you every day Mom – you were one in a trillion.

xoxo
Me

Empty Bench

Tuesday, June 19th, 2012

“Remember me and smile, for it’s better to forget than remember me and cry.” ~ unknown

I posted a shorter version of this poem on Facebook last year near Mom’s birthday, but it never made its way to the Madness blog. Since a full year has now come full circle, and I’m taking today off to visit this seaside bench once again, I figured it’s a good time to make this a live one.

Scusa me amicas and amicos, I certainly am light years behind the likes of Emily Dickinson.

EMPTY BENCH

We’d stop and sit for a chat
Our laughter filling the salty air

A stroll on the boards
A slice, a cone, a coke
“Watch those $@#& seagulls!”
Always a chuckle at one of your jokes

Seaside moments to treasure
Our own bit of heaven on earth
For some, a bond so rare
A friendship mom her daughter shared

Today my tears flowed without your presence
I see only our blue bench…empty
Just waiting for you to come and join me there

ITALIAN LESSON: missing (in the absence of) = mancando — “I’m missing you” = “Mi stai mancando”


´*•.¸(´*•.¸♥¸.•*´)¸.•*´
♥*HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!*♥
¸.•*´(¸.•*´♥´*•.¸)´*•.¸

Jeez, how I miss you, our belly laughs, shopping sprees, our funny ‘what-would-you-rather-have’ questions and the silliness we enjoyed every time we spent those precious moments together. I especially miss reading you my madness writing about all the kooky things we experienced as a family (and the variety of sixteen foster kids, each with their own story).

Even though some of these stories may seem wacked-out to some, I’d go back and enjoy every insane minute again.

xo
~ Me

Shaken Laptop Syndrome

Saturday, January 29th, 2011

“People who fly into a rage always make a bad landing.” ~ Will Rogers

I’ll admit that quite a few things in life piss me off (rudeness to waitstaff, bad drivers, close-minded nitwits and racists) and sometimes my rage seems a bit over-the-top based on the situation at hand.  I attribute my short fuse to my Sicilian heritage — perhaps it’s the Napoledon in me, or maybe the combination of these two fiery ancestral lines fuel my spicy Italian temper.

This past week, my neurons went neurotic, my synapses snapped, my circuits became a circus.  I think this frenzy was mainly from staying so damn busy, I’ve not given myself a true grieving period for mom, and my stress level has  been running in the red for a few weeks now.  I’m angry that I cannot pick up the phone to call ma to chit chat or bullsh!t like only we could.  I’m angry because I want to ask her a question about my childhood, a family recipe, life in the fifties, dish about the latest scandal in the news, or tell her a funny joke I recently heard.  I’m angry when that bitter sting of reality SMACKS me, reminding me that those days are gone forever.

One angry redhead

So what did I do with all this fire? All I can say is that I’m glad I cannot be arrested for SHAKEN LAPTOP SYNDROME, because that’s exactly what I took by rage out on.  Yes, my beautiful brand new laptop is royally screwed, and yes, I am the f’in idiot who screwed it!  (A temper tantrum! um…how old am I?) Great, I’m at the top of my own SH!T LIST!

Punch that laptop!

Side Note: Blessed computer gurus are going to try to put Humpty back together again, so I think I’d better turn my statue of Bill Gates upside down for luck.

Wanna hear something even more bizarre? This is not a unique occurrence! While searching the web for a photo to use for this post, I came across several forums with many other crazy people (like me) asking the question “what happens when I punch my laptop?”, or “I just fisted the crap out of my keyboard, will my computer ever work again?” WOW.

(Angry Italian Lesson:  You can all go f!ck yourselves = Andate tutti a vaffanculo!)

Happy this disturbing week has come to a close, I’m slowly forgiving myself for my psycho behavior, taking some time to reflect and figure out alternate ways to vent without destroying my favorite inanimate objects.

Which leads me to ask — what was YOUR craziest moment of rage? (or feel free to share a few things that piss YOU off).


Take a deep breath, say OMMMMMMMMMMMM and head to the home page here:  www.MadnessMomandMe.com


Mourning Mom: this can’t be real

Wednesday, December 8th, 2010

“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.”

Not to sound cliché, but this is by far the hardest, most heart-wrenching post I have written so far.  Honestly, if anything else in the next decade comes anywhere near this, immediately find me a stiff new straitjacket, so I can throw myself into a padded room — forever.

Ok, here comes the hard part, words I thought I would not have to write about for at least another decade:  Mom is gone.  My wonderful witty mom passed away in her sleep Thanksgiving morning.  No warning, no illness, no clues, no nothing, no mom. Mom is gone. Mom is gone. I have to repeat myself over and over, because I just cannot believe it’s real. I’m hoping my next post is about the coma I’ve been in for the past week or so — I’ll write about how when I awoke, mom was there with one of her famous QVC jewelry trinkets for me to open, and a pot of her famous spaghetti sauce bubbling away on the stove, so we could all get home and enjoy a  nice Italian dinner in celebration of my new coma-free existence.

Yes, mom is gone.  My house is filled with condolence cards, flowers and such very touching notes from caring family and friends, but somehow it doesn’t seem real. It CAN’T be real.  Mom was SO ALIVE, so funny, always ready with a wise-crack, or words of wisdom.  I loved her advice. She was one of my best friends in the whole world. I see the cards with her photo and a pretty poem, yet I’ll still dial her phone number and expect her to pick up.  I’ll want to call her about who was just told to f*ck off on Hell’s Kitchen, or who we think should have gotten fired on The Apprentice, or the new boots I bought, but then the cold harsh smack of reality hits me right in the face, telling me those days are over.

Mom & I would dish together, watch movies together, shop together, cook dinners (for my hubby and the furkids) together and every so often I’d mix up a couple of whiskey sours and mom would share her humorous and wonderful stories which fill a small notebook of mine.

Loss of any kind is a real tough pill to swallow,  and when you lose a mom and a best friend, you feel like your heart is literally ripping apart. With that said, I think I’ll mix up two whiskey sours, leaving one on the coffee table in mom’s honor.   I just hope I don’t water them down with all of my tears.

Mom, you will be missed

Love you & miss you forever Mom

xo Your daughter

Please head home to the madness home page here: www.MadnessMomandMe.com