Hey, just now seeing this. Thank you for reaching out! I'm surprised that someone who knows this is my blog, knew her.

31.01.2024

Most of my friends have moved on from tumblr at this point. I still lurk, but this site doesn't hold as much appeal for me like it used to. The blog will never be deleted. There's too many memories attached to this. Too many past lives have used this blog to document themselves on here. Maybe one day I'll return in a more meaningful way.

A Grief Observed.

It's strange. I check on here pretty frequently and chat with mutuals often, but I don't post any more. I want to reserve this space for my long form thoughts, but I also do that on my Instagram.

Grief is fickle. It sucks when I wallow in it. So I distract myself to avoid it and just kick that can down the road. Mom wouldn't want me to feel bad all the time, but some part of me reasons that moving on is forgetting her. And while I know that isn't true, it's so fucking convicting that I'm at an impasse. And I don't move forward.

Lately life has been more smiles and laughter. Which is awesome! Until my fucking self pulls me down and ruins the mood. It's awful and I really don't know how to move beyond this phase.

Mom’s Eulogy

Hello and thank you for attending this morning. 

Mom was the sort of person who knew what she was going to be from a very young age. When her (favorite) cousin Devin was born, mom’s mom and Devin’s mom were surprised to find my mom holding him in the bedroom. She said that he was “her baby” and it’s like she knew that one day she would have babies of her own. 

Growing up as the oldest has some perks. I received undivided attention for 14 months, had all the new parenting styles tried on me, and enjoyed some pretty sweet birthday parties. Mom had a way of thinking that no party idea was too much. Around 1st grade, she threw a spy themed party and didn’t hold back. She hid clues in resealed cereal boxes, weathered notes hidden around the house, and culminated in a big cake. She knew how to make special events all the more special. 

For Christmas in 98, the family actually was in China for a couple weeks. It was kind of a bummer, knowing that Santa wouldn’t be able to visit us, seeing as we were on the other side of the planet at the time. Imagine the surprise on my and my sibling’s faces when we got home and saw that he still came. Or there was a time when the family was returning from a trip on Easter Sunday, and seeing eggs hidden while we pulled into the driveway. Mom had that quality about her to make magical moments alive for us kids. 

It has been such a treat and blessing to read the many stories shared by friends, former classmates, peers, and family about my mom. Knowing that the effort and love we kids were able to grow up with, shared with the community is so nice. 

In particular, I saw a story one of her friend’s Kerrie post. “When we were facing hard times or upset with our circumstances, we would always ask each other, “What Would Julie Do” because it would help us remember to be kind, humble, positive, and have grace.”

Thank you, Kerrie, for sharing that. 

I leave you with a verse that mom liked:

Proverbs 3:5-6

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding, and in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.

Terminal

It's a word I never thought I'd use to describe my mother's situation. She's been battling cancer for 6 years, and it's run her course.

She's terminal.

I was saying that she's dying of cancer. We got told in December that she had 6 months left. Then the cancer started growing aggressively and her timeline shortened.

I knew when she stopped fighting last summer, quality vs quantity, that it was only a matter of time. I (accurately) predicted we would have about a year left. I don't like being right in this situation. It's in her lymphatic system, and had free reign to infect her entire body. It's honestly easier to list the places it isn't at this point.

But terminal.

A phrase that still leaves me reeling. I'm not sure why it does. Why it hits harder or feels more real. Maybe it's because I've heard it as a description for other people, but never *my mom*. This death feels different.

All my deaths I've experienced have been sudden. A heart attack, a car crash, a suicide, etc. All sudden. All impactful in their own way. But this is different. Is it better to have time to prepare? Or would you rather it be sudden? I don't have an answer, they both have their own pros/cons. This is a new experience. A drawn out death that we know only has one outcome. She won't get better. It kills me to watch her wither away, gradually. She's talking to people in the room that aren't there. I know what that means, my family experienced that before my birth. It means that she's not long for this world. She won't hit her 6 month prediction from December. Maybe she'll hit her 61st birthday in 27 days, maybe she'll make it to the end of April. I want more time with her, but as her mind goes I don't want to see her continue in this state.