Serendipitous Girl

While running errands a few weeks ago, I ran into an old acquaintance. We were catching up with the usual pleasantries. “How is your son? Does he have a steady girlfriend?” I replied, “No, but he and his boyfriend have been together for more than a year and a half.” With a horrified and shocked look, followed by a snarky reply, she inquired, “Well, how is that?” I gave a quizzical glare until she finished. On some level, my mind knew where her comment was going, “Having a gay son?”   After what I am sure was an equally, if not more, shocked look in my eyes, followed by an image in my mind, playing out like a seventies cartoon of a baseball hitting her upside the head. I replied with, “I don’t know. What is it like having a heterosexual son?” My response left her speechless, and we soon parted ways.   Since that afternoon, I have not been able to shake the insensitive encounter from my thoughts. I am unsure if it was the underlying tone of her question that offended me. Per...

  So much has transpired in the thirteen months since the gift of time ran out, and we buried my Mommom. Life has been busy, and in many ways, I am grateful because it forced me to keep moving. Each time I was still, it seemed to allow the grief to take a stronghold. Last year at her funeral, multiple family members and friends approached me, reiterating the same sentiment, "You were her Kellie." It was heartwarming to hear those words. For some time, it felt as if she was not truly gone. I guess it makes sense. She always lived less than an hour away. Except for the time I lived with her, then moved around the corner for a few years. But that all was a lifetime ago. Today, our family is waking up to a different world. The house, which was our family home for over sixty-five years, is officially someone else's residence as of four o'clock yesterday. 1407 Stengel Avenue. It was not much by today's standards, but her door was always open, and you always knew you w...

Today marks one year since the gift of time ran out, and we lost my Mommom to cancer.  Not long ago, I was advised, "The first year after losing a loved one is the most difficult." With the loss of a loved one, life abruptly changes. It is categorized. Suddenly there is a before, and there is an after. Time becomes measured in weeks, months, and years. I assume it is accurate to an extent. There are first holidays and special occasions without the person we love. Yet, it is the little day-to-day moments missing from our life, which become the most significant reminders of the poignantly palpable void. Brady and I discussed a conversation between him and his boyfriend, Mario, about getting a pet. While Mario is an animal lover, his hesitation stems from growing attached and the pet passing. Brady's reply was simple, "It's the circle of life." I was telling Chris a few days ago, "I wish I could go back to a year ago, to immediately after my Mommom passed....

Chris leaned over and took my hand, "It feels good to finally make this trip with you by my side." The bottled emotions I had previously been unable to name washed over me as we turned onto Plank Road last night. They proceeded to stream down my cheeks uncontrollably. We were greeted at the door by most of the Jackson pride, who were anxiously awaiting the return of Momma and Baby Doolittle. Mommom, Poppop, and Grandmom turned Jayde's homecoming into the celebration it should be. It was not long before Jayde requested a smoothie, and I put the Ninja blender to work. Apprehensive is how I would best describe Jayde right now. Her hospital room was designed for her and her needs. Her bed at home does not have rails and buttons to raise it up and down for her ease and comfort. Laying still, she is in minimal pain; however, it is a different story when she moves. Still, she is trying to smile through all of this the best she can. The next several days will be an adjustment per...

Each day is full of milestones in Jayde's recovery, filled with moments where I am more amazed by our Baby Girl and her determination. Yesterday was all about getting out of bed, taking short walks, and moving her tiny hiney. Jayde's gait as she walks down the hall is slow and steady, like a tortoise. Returning, she is always an eager bunny, anxious to get back to her room and crawl back into her bed. The medicine is keeping her pain away and a smile on her face. Yesterday, Jayde had many visitors. We got her steps in by taking her guests on a walk to the kid's room. Though she has mastered that smile, no matter how she is feeling, it was obvious once everyone departed, she was exhausted and hurting.  Today has been quiet. The three of us slept until 9:30. Her incisions look beautiful. A year from now, it will be difficult to detect a scar. Also, per her request, her belly button is still an "innie." Today, she is more alert but on edge. She used the bathroom by h...

I am lying in bed, trying to wake up. I grab my phone and browse over my calendar. The last few months have been a whirlwind. I have always relied heavily on my phone's calendar. (Yes, I was a Blackberry addict in the early days.) Although lately, it would be impossible for me to tell you the day of the week without my phone's assistance. I am submerged in a deep haze. Our schedule for the next ten days is overwhelming. What was I thinking of scheduling two major doctor’s appointments on the same day?!? The simple answer—I wasn't. To the Super Moms who do it all, are beautifully put together, your homes are clean, and dinner is on the table at 6 P.M. every day—I applaud you. I also wonder when you sleep and if you are actually human. My feet hit the floor, yet all I want to do is crawl back in my bed, pull the covers over my head, and sleep away the grief. I am silently praying when I wake up, this ache in the pit of my stomach, and the accompanying heaviness that begins fr...