It's still hard. It think it will always be hard in some ways. I walked through the living room one day and smelled mom's cigarette smoke. She quit smoking true cigarettes almost a year ago. The other day Imp said something and I could have sworn that it was mom calling me.
Mom would have wanted us to keep going and to smile, though. Even at the end, when it just plain hurt her to move because of he fibro and OA and everything else, she tried to find things in life to enjoy. It was hard, but she did try. Not always successful, but she did try.
I figure that the best way to remember mom is to live my life to the fullest that I can. To tell the stories of her. To get the tattoo that she wanted.
The woman that introduced my parents to each other back in '74 was mom's sister in all but blood. She was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor right around the time Imp was born. She was given six months to live. She made it damn near six years. Mom was devastated that she couldn't make it to South Carolina for her funeral. It broke mom's heart.
I know that those two women are together somewhere creating havoc and cackling like the two of the three witches for 'McBeth'.
Right before mom came home from her first and last chemo treatment, I had gotten my first yarn from the people at Sanguine Gryphon. Some lace weight Mithril in their Red Dragon color-way.
The picture doesn't really do it justice. This is red. Hooker red. Get in your face, take no prisoners red.
See, the lady in question could not wear red of any shade. And it drove her batty because she loved the color. Mom and I can wear red any day of the week and look wonderful in it. My aunt (she was married to a cousin, but we called them aunt and uncle) wanted to hate us, but couldn't. She groused instead.
I don't know why I thought of her when I saw this yarn om the website, but I did. I've got a pattern in mind. I'm going to knit it for me, but these two women, the two who taught me that old didn't mean stodgy are going to be in every stitch.
Hey Mom? Go have fun.