Archive for the ‘death of a parent’ 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

7 Links Challenge

Sunday, October 9th, 2011

I was recently asked by Barbara Hammond of Zero to 60, and Katie Sorene of Trip Base to take part in the 7 Links Challenge, where you select previously written posts in 7 categories, then ask your fellow bloggers/blogstresses to do the same. It’s a bit harder than you think, so please challenge yourself. I won’t call anyone out (as the “rules” state) so it’s up to you if you wish to give it a whirl. Plus, I do enjoy breaking the rules!

    Here are the categories and my Madness selections:

Most beautiful post:
Mourning Mom
Speaks for itself, and it’s all still so surreal to me. My world as I knew it ended when mom died.

Most popular post:
Joe Pesci is my third cousin, you gotta F*%#!n’ problem with that?
Because who doesn’t love crazy ranting cousin Joe?

Most controversial post:
The Good Ol’ Inappropriate Days.
Political correctness? Who really gives a sh!t?

Most helpful post:
Love Rituals

Everyone should be so lucky to have so much love.

A post whose success surprised you:
Pretty Precious Things
Short & sweet — I received many comments and emails about your treasured keepsakes.

A post which didn’t get the attention it deserved:
Turn the Car Around Dominic!
Come on, Mom throwing her shoes, handbag and Dad’s wallet out of the car window? = funny stuff!

Post that you are most proud of:
Ding-a-lings at the Dover Library
A little girl’s original art. So what if it was all about a penis…I love that story!


Have a blog? Free to share your link in the comments section, and/or tell me about your single favorite post.

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