Grown and Flown

I remember the day that you were born.  I required two epidurals and even threw up during your delivery.  Though it wasn't necessarily a difficult pregnancy and delivery, you would be considered my "hardest delivery."

I remember a time when you were left home for the first time without a babysitter.  Isaac was in charge. While we were at a wedding, you called throughout the evening--crying and demanding we come home. I was upset, feeling our night was ruined.  I realized you weren't ready to be left home without a sitter, even if we thought you were.

Throughout the years you have taken your younger sisters under your wings; nurtured them as a mother...but, you also became a mother hen.  They would listen to you better than me.  Carley often stating, "We're afraid of Erika getting mad."

I appreciate the positive role model you have been to your sisters.  I love how your loyalty to your friends is fierce.  I am proud of your dedication to hard work; focusing on doing a good job while in the workforce and and applying your work ethic to your academia.   You impress me daily of how you have always remained true to who you are.

As you are ready to fly from the nest, I have no advice for you.  Though, I know this is difficult for you...and me, dad, Danielle and Carley...you are ready.  

You are ready.  Spread your wings.  Fly high.  We'll be the wind beneath your wings.

We love you.

Hello?

August.  The month I've recognized as a time of reflection since both of my parents died in this month.  I neither rejoice nor hate the month.  I can't. I still reflect...

Today, I reflect on the time, Jody and I were leaving for college and as we were about to get in my dad's blue Ford truck, my mother began to sob.  She said through tears and between breaths, "I can't do this. Joe, you have to go alone.  I have to stay home."  I remember looking at her in disbelief, looking at Dad and back at her, then stating, "You'll get over it."  It only made her cry harder and I thought she was insane.

We hooked up our phone after a little unpacking and in a matter of minutes it was ringing.  Who the hell was calling us?  I picked up the phone.  "Hello?"  I heard crying on the other end...it was Mom.  I assured her we were OK, we had lots to unpack and didn't have time to talk.  We would call HER.

Today, I wish I could call her.  To share the pride and sadness with her as I reflect on our second going off to college.  I am also reminded, that when she was dying, she said, "There will be times that you will want to pick up the phone and call me...you won't be able to...but, know that I am there for you."  She continued, "Not being able to call my own mom was the hardest thing for me when she died...that part never got easy."

No, it's not easy.

I don't know which is harder.  Erika going off to college or that you're not around to share in this milestone.  You have been dead for almost nine years, Dad four.  They all rank right up there and the tears fall down my face as I write this.

I'd call, but you wouldn't answer nor would I hear any voice on the other end.  Distantly, I hear your voice say,  "You'll get over it."

I don't think I ever will. Mom, I miss you every day.