these moments, these memories...

I have sat down at my computer, wanted to write something, and walked away a number of times in the past week. I suppose I am ready now. Ready to acknowledge that "the day" has passed. It has now officially been over a year since my mom died. At first you count in days, then in months, and now I join the women who count in years.
It was a difficult weekend, for more reasons then just the anniversary. But to try and be positive, I spent some nice time with my Nana, my little brothers and my Uncle Brendan. We went to stay at mom's camp Saturday night. It was one of her favorite places, she always talked about it and I only went there once when she was alive. At first, I was, well for lack of a better word, pissed. When we went in there were dirty dishes everywhere and moldy food on the counter and in the refrigerator, an unmade bed... just a mess. This, if you knew my mom, was not her at all. She would have flipped out to see it that way, and you wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere near her if you had left it that way. So I was hurt that my step sister has used the camp and not taken care of it. But, we all cleaned until it was sparkling again, the way my mom would have. And overall, we all did okay. We had a fire and made s'mores and roasted hotdogs. In the morning, we went to breakfast at an adorable little place in the small town up the road. It was exactly the kind of place my mom would have loved and the food was great so it made me feel good to go there. Then we walked around the shops... Now, the one time I had gone to the camp when she was alive she asked me to go with her and walk around Bolton (we could shop little quaint stores together all day long), but I turned her down and told her I wanted to go the village of Lake George with Chad instead and had her babysit. I still have regret about it. I would give anything to have one more memory with her... but I guess that is beside the point. So I did go to Bolton, a year after she died. I loved the shops, and of course thought of her non-stop. Then we went back to the camp to meet my grandparents for a visit. It was nice, just sitting on the porch talking to them. And though I had planned to come back to Rochester that night, I just couldn't. I stayed at Dad's again.

This of course brings up a whole new topic. I have this yearning or urge to move. I know I have played with the idea over the past year, but everyone told me not to make a decision like that within the first year, and rightfully so. But a year is over, and here it is again, pulling at me. I can't quite identify it... is it partly my own want of a distraction? a kind of running away? will it be harder for me to move to her area and be even more reminded of her everyday or comforted by the family I will have to surround me and the ability to visit the cemetery anytime I want? do I want to move back to that area or just move in general, say to somewhere like New England where I have always said I wanted to live? So much is happening in my family right now, and I think part of me feels the pull to move because I want to take care of them, be there for them... but how much will that be a detriment to me? I can't replace her, I can't do what she could do for them or be who she was to them...

It's just an itch right now. I play around with it in my mind. It would be a huge decision, it would mean selling my house and being wiling to live in an apartment again until I was settled enough to get a house wherever I end up, and it would mean navigating my job in a new place which would be a huge change... but I don't know... it is tempting.

So, a year ago today the wake had just ended. I believe at this time I was at my uncle's bar drinking a shot of Jameson (lol, maybe not the best thing to do after a wake but I did sleep very deeply as soon as I got in the car). I have read other people's posts about losing their moms and some people say how it feels like they are living in a dream now, like they expect to wake up from it sometimes.... I feel like that sometimes. Or maybe not even that, it just feels different now. Everything about life feels different. But I am trying to be positive when I can. If this is the path that I was given to walk, how can I do it well, with my head held high and with a little girl looking up to me? I wonder what my next step on this journey should be?

These things I know... I will enjoy my amazing daughter, she can bring light to any dark day. I will follow my dreams, no matter how unreachable they may seem. I will try to enjoy the little things. I will try to forgive others and myself for anything that needs forgiving. I will try to be the daughter my mom would be proud of. I will keep her in my heart at all times.