Happy Birthday to my precious Mom

A note to my mom on her birthday….

Dear Mom,

    I know you can’t read this because you are having the most amazingly wonderful birthday ever in Heaven, but I miss you more than I could ever express, and I seem to get my thoughts out the best through writing.

    You’d be 63 years old today.  You’ve been gone for 9 months and 4 days.  That’s too long, but in the grand scheme of how much longer I could potentially live, it’s a short amount of time.  That’s hard for me to grasp because I hate that you’ve missed soooo much already.

Ford-  He’s lost 3 more teeth.  He played upward basketball and was quite the star of his team.  We let him play up with the bigger boys in baseball, which was tougher since he was young, but such a good experience.  He’s now playing soccer for his third time and seems to be enjoying it.  Ford finished kindergarten with a bang… reading, good behavior, and great scores on his achievement tests.  That boy still loves his sister move than words can express and seems to be a good protector.

John Brantley-  We went ahead and held Bitty back in 3K, which we told you we would.  The transition was smooth, but he says he misses his friends which makes me sad.  He’s playing soccer for his first time and I will have you know that he’s aggressive and does better than I thought he would.  He finally learned the entire alphabet and can write his whole name and spell it out loud.  Now this didn’t come without a lot of blood, sweat, and tears.  He’s obsessed with Annie, yet he worries her to death.  Bitty claims he’s ready to ride without training wheels.

Annie-  Ohhh how I wish you could see this prissy child of mine.  This is the little girl you wanted me to have so badly, and I got her.  Mom, she’s a mess!  100% girlie, but loves a ball and a tractor.  Her ears kept giving us fits, so on her birthday she got tubes.  Dad came with me which was a blessing because she was far from pleased after the procedure.  And will you know she started walking the next day!!!  She’s got 16 teeth, jabbers all the times, can squeal louder than I did as a child, loves a dog, also loves shoes and ice, is left handed just like you, and demands attention most of the day.  I know she doesn’t remember you, but we talk about you a lot.  I show her videos and pictures of her Gran.  There’s a picture of you and me from the beach last summer that I blew up and it’s in my closet.  Annie loves to lie on the floor and look at you! 

Dad has done better with his new normal than I thought he would.  That’s not to say that he didn’t try to kill your house plants by leaving the blinds closed for the first two months.  I have tried to take care of him, more at first than now, and make sure that all is well with him.  He’s cleaning and managing the house.  When I go to Olive Branch I can tell that he’s dusted because all the décor is turned the wrong way.  Don’t worry, I fix it.  I slapped two car seats in your car, and have him running carpool when he’s down here.  He’s quite the babysitter too.  He has changed Annie’s diapers, he rocks her and even does bottles.  You’d be impressed with what he can actually do!

We went to the beach.  Boy did we miss you.  It just wasn’t right taking that family beach picture without you in the middle.  (Lump in my throat).  Trey and I took the boys to Disney World in September.  I actually cried on the way to the airport that morning because you knew we were planning a trip.  In August of 2015 you told when we went you’d help out with Annie as much as you could.  But you weren’t here to help, and that was tough.  Dad and Puddin helped.   The trip was amazing and I can’t wait to go back.

You know I have tried so hard for the last 9 months to understand how your job on Earth could be done in just 62 short years.  I see people every day who are much older and wish so badly that you were still here.  Your mom and dad are still doing well.  I write Granddaddy two letters a week and call Grandmother several times too.   Uncle Jeff and Aunt Elizabeth are taking care of them real good.

I get up early in the mornings, 5:00 to be exact.  It’s quiet in the house then and I have some time to think.  When I walk down the hall and see the sunrise I always always always think of you.  I am in awe of the beauty each morning and wonder what you see every day in Heaven.  Those sunrises make me feel close to you.  I go by the cemetery often, make sure everything looks okay and change out your flowers.  The other day I took pansies because I know they are your favorite.  I remember you saying that you wanted to be buried in Senatobia because you knew I’d take care of your grave!  Someone asked, well, started to ask and I finished it for them, why I go to the cemetery if I know you aren’t there.  Yes, I know “you” aren’t there, but your body is and for some reason it makes me feel a sense of closeness.

Soooo many times, I can’t even tell you how many times, I replay the last several months and days of your life in my head.  I think of what I might have done or said differently.  For the most part I am glad that I did everything that I did, but I would change a few things.  I would have spent the night at your house those times you said, “I wish I could just keep you here all the time.”  I guess I felt bad making someone else watch after my children.  That is upsetting because that’s precious time I will never get back because I thought I might inconvenience someone else.  I’m sorry, I should have stayed.   I never wanted to talk to you about dying.  I knew you were dying, but I didn’t want to believe it.  Denial I guess.  I wish we would have talked about it.  I would like to have known what you thought and what you wanted from us after you were gone.  To some degree we did talk about things after you were gone, but I wish you and I would have done it more.  The last 5 days of your life in the hospital were tough and all seem to run together in my head.  Did you know that was the end for you?  Did you hear us talking to you?  Did you hear Ken reading from the Bible and me playing music?  Did you know people came to see you?  I’d love to know what you remember/know/heard/understood.  Did you know I was holding your hand when you died and didn’t let it go for 55 minutes?  I just couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go even though you were gone… you were dancing cancer free in Paradise.

I think of your life and I hope you feel like it was happy and blessed.  You touched so many lives, mom.  Soooo many.  I hear from people all the time about you.   Your story truly touched a lot of lives.  For me personally, your attitude towards your entire battle was amazing.  It truly was.  You never cried, complained, or said why me.  You took the diagnosis and challenge head on and with such grace.  Mom, I am proud of you.  I am proud of how you handled yourself and most importantly, I am glad God chose you to be my mom.  You know I feel cheated that I only got 33.5 years with you and others get so much longer.  Then I remind myself that some people never have a mom, have less time than I did, or had a crappy mom.  I got the best mom…even for a short time.  And for that, I am grateful. 

I miss you so badly.  Before I lost you I guess my perspective on death was different.  Now I understand how people who are truly grieving feel.  I will never get over losing you.  I won’t.  It’ll be terrible being without you everyday.  I will be hurt and have an emptiness forever.  But I have learned that regardless of how many days have passed, you don’t get over losing someone, you just learn that you have to move on.   You find your new normal and make it work.  I could go on and on and on about how things are different without you.  I could.  All day long I could write about stuff.  I could tell you how much I hold inside now because you were the only one I could tell some things to or maybe the only one who would care.  I could say that I have gone back and read text message and private Facebook messages between you and me and I can hear your voice in all of them.

Mom, you being gone truly is terrible.  I am proud to be your daughter and that you were my mother.  I promise to take care of those you love as long as I’m here on Earth.  Happy birthday, Mom.  I love you as much as the whole world and back again!!!!!!!!!!!!

Today we celebrated mom.  Dad, Ken's crew, and my crew cooked out, ate cake, talked about Gran, the kids drew her pictures, we sang happy birthday, and released balloons for her.

I asked the kids: "When you think of Gran what comes to your mind?"

Molly Cate (age 10)- She was really, really, really, really sweet and she loved us a lot.

Caroline (age 8)- She was really nice.

Ford (age 7)- The memories of her passing out all the peppermints and she was really sweet.

Jack (age 5.5)- She gave us peppermints and going to the beach with us.

John Brantley (age 4)- She gave us green peppermints, came to our house, and she said I love you sweetie.

Annie (age 19 mo)- She would say she loved the hugs.


Thank you God for the time you gave my mother on Earth.  Thank you for your grace, sending your son to pay the price for our sins, and for eternal life.  Mom may be gone from Earth, but she is at Home and one day she will be waiting with arms wide open in Heaven for me when I get there.  Ohhhh I can't wait for that sweet day.  How I miss those hugs.  Happy Birthday Mom!!!!!!