Last day of 2011

I'm having a bad day . . . it's the last day of 2011, and in a way, I don't want this year to end because this was the last year my mom was alive.  As long as I have 2011, I still feel like she is a part of me . . . I know this doesn't seem to make sense, but it's how I feel.  I spent most of the day crying because on top of everything, my little dog Taco, my chihuahua for 11 years, has been really sick, vomiting for about three or four days.  He is not acting right.  I know that he is getting old, and that his time is really limited.  David and I talked, and we decided to take him to the vet.  I pretty much knew the vet would recommend that we put him down, so I gingerly wrapped Taco in a Carolina blanket (he's a Gamecock fan, too), and held him for a while and told him what a wonderful friend he has been to me.  I kissed him and pet his little head.  I was not ready to lose him, too.  He is the dog that pretty much started the chihuahua craze around my house and why I got Lulu (another chi) for my mom for her 60th birthday.

We did the neatest thing for her birthday.  We took a picture of Lulu and cut it into seven pieces.  Then each of us put a piece in an envelope and put To: Mom/From: Laurie (or whoever), and gave them to her.  As she opened each piece, she just didn't know what to think.  She finally put the pieces together and saw that we were giving her a dog.  The look on her face was priceless as we brought Lulu into the room for her.  She later confessed that she didn't know if she wanted to keep Lulu and didn't know how she was going to give her back to me.  Lulu won her heart over and she became my mom's little girl (well, I would always be her big girl).  My mom even later got Andy, a rescue from the pet shelter, so Lulu wouldn't be lonely.

We both loved our dogs and took them to the beach and included them in Christmas celebrations, etc.  I'm so glad that my mom and I were able to share this love of animals.  Between the two of us, we have nine!  Six dogs and three cats (well, we even have a snake now - thank you, David!).

The good news (I think) is that Taco has diabetes, but the vet did not recommend we put him down.  Maybe my mom will become Taco's guardian angel and heal him, too.  She knows, more than anyone, how much that little dog means to me.

So as 2011 comes to a close, I'm happy to put the sadness behind me, but I'm sad to close the last year of my mom's life.  I miss you mom, and I'll be toasting to you at midnight.  <3

Beautiful video entitled "Missing You"

My old friend from high school, Mike, sent me this video.  I am so blessed to have people think of me and love me.  He told me that the marine in the video was one of his friends.  In the video, the photos of the people are attached to strings which are attached to balloons.  Some of the photos float away as the singer releases the balloon.  What a cool way to honor someone!  I have some words I need to send my mother . . . http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-MWXoB7jq0U&sns=em

December has been so lonely.

I became an orphan at the age of 51 on December 16, 2011.  Surrounded by family, my beautiful mom passed away while I held her hand.  As I heard the blips of the heart monitor slow down, I knew my life would change forever as a part of me died that day, too.  I have never known a stronger or more compassionate person, and I don't think I ever will.

I am already starting to forget how her voice sounds.  If only the phone would ring . . . . I decided I needed to start writing about her every day so I don't forget the times we shared.  For the most part, I have no regrets about our relationship, although I do struggle with the things I cannot change, viewed through the lens of hindsight.

Yesterday, I had to go to the lawyer's office to sign some more papers (does this ever end?), and on the way home, I got hungry.  I hadn't eaten much that day, if any.  Probably more like I had five cups of coffee and that was it.  Rifling through my purse for some gum, I saw the Bruster's free single-scoop ice-cream cone card that I'd been carrying around for about a year.  Why not?  So unlike me, I pulled into Bruster's and thought about how both my mom and I love ice cream.  I didn't even stop to look at the no-added sugar or sugar-free choices.  I felt like I deserved the "real deal" to make me feel better, and I chuckled when I thought my mom would say, "Get it." Surveying the "real deal" choices, I chose White Turtle, which was vanilla ice cream with swirls of caramel and salted pecans.  

"I'll take a single-scoop of White Turtle in a sugar cone," I told the voice who wanted to know how she could help me.  How many calories would this "real deal" have?  At that moment, I didn't care.  Life is fleeting, life is temporary, and life is to be lived every moment with no hesitations.

I pulled around to the window, the window opened up, and I could hear Tim McGraw's voice as he sang "Live Like You Were Dying."  My mom was telling me to "get it" as the girl handed me the single-scoop White Turtle sugar cone.  I smiled.