I wish I could pick up the phone

…and call my mom.

But I can’t.

If you’ve been reading this blog a while, you may know that my mom died three years ago. Tomorrow is the actual date.


I wish I could ask her about all this getting older jazz, all this stuff about me being sick, just about stuff in general.

But I can’t.

Oh, I suppose I could look heavenward and ask, “Well, Mom, now what?” But it’s not the same as her actually being here and being somewhat cognizant of what was going on around her (she was a little out there at the end when there wasn’t enough oxygen getting to her brain due to COPD). I miss the person my mom was before the last year of her life. She was so smart and with it. You couldn’t put anything over on her!

Yep…she was one of a kind.

And sometimes, I do start to call her number and remember that she’s not there to answer it. And we sold her house to a young family back in March of this year. I hope they make lots of memories there.

Because I know we sure did.


Sorry…you caught me waxing nostalgic again. I can almost hear my dad saying, “As for the rest of your life, young lady, that’s for you to figure out.”

Yep. And when I finally figure it all out, well, I’ll let you know?




I’m Stef and this is where it’s @ !~



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