My handsome father, Laurance Joseph Weimar, in about 1958 or so.  I miss him so much.  He has been gone for about 15 years . . . so hard to believe.

My handsome little man, Frazier Harrison Shirey, who will turn 3 on 9/21.  He gives me light in times of darkness.

Forever Friends

I just got off the phone with one of my dearest friends ever!  Ronda, whom I have known for over 30 years, who lives about 3000 miles away.  We don't speak as much as we'd like, but when we do, the miles and time melt away!  We laugh about our silly private jokes and our passionate love for bands like Van Halen and Journey and LoverBoy and all the other experiences that only we own.  I always feel like I'm on the top of the Empire State Building after I get off the phone with her or see any of my other dear and loving friends!  And that feeling just got bigger because I found out her sister Dianna has moved back to SC after all these years - we started as secretaries together MCG, and to simply state we had some interesting and fun times is an understatement - the Trauma Times, the Goat Roasts, the high heels, the drug rep lunches, the cute interns and residents, oh there are so many wonderful memories, which can't be told here!  We also sort of grew up together because these were our first "real"jobs - working in the Trauma office at MCG!  We eventually became inspired to continue our education because of the people we were exposed to daily.  I became a teacher, and she became a doctor.  I'm so proud of her . . . and I CANNOT wait to reconnect with her now that she is back in SC!  Let the games begin!!  Ronda and Dianna - I love you both!

Since my mom has passed away, my mindset about life has changed so much.  I know that my mother and father are gone, both sets of grandparents are gone, and my two brothers whom I love dearly are not as much a part of my life as I would like them to be (but I'm working it and so are they).  I am incredibly blessed to have a wonderful husband and two beautiful and loving daughters and the cutest little blue-eyed, blond-headed two-year-old in the world as my grandson, but I need more than that sometimes to just be me, no demands.  

Friends.  What are friends?  To me, they are presents you give yourself.  Better than anything money could ever buy.  The richness and complexity and pure love that exists in a true friendship is infinitely priceless.  My friends have become an even more integral part of my life and they keep me afloat.  There are so many that I can't name them all, but I'm going to try to mention a few long-time ones.  Please don't be upset if don't mention your name because if you are reading this, you know I care about you and you care about me and that's what constitutes a friendship.  People placed in your live to kick it up a notch!

I already mentioned Ronda, and I'm so excited to see her in October when her daughter Brittany gets married.  It's going to be an event that will go down in the book of "I Will Remember Always."

Then there are my Hallpass friends - Carolyn, Mary, Chris, Cindy, Susan, Debbie, and Sammy.  Carolyn and I used to be friends in 11th grade.  We loved the Eagles and Bob Seeger and overalls and cute guys!  She loved my Yankee accent (LOL) and I always envied her big and beautiful hair (which she still has!!).  I am so thankful that Carolyn and I have found each other again after all these years.  That, my friend, is the true cornerstone of a friendship . . . one that endures time and space and everyday life!  Mary, what can I say about Mary, except that I love her!  She is one crazy gal who always, always puts a smile on my face and she does the funkiest dances you can imagine!  She is my good-time hanger-outer, and I am sad that she is moving away.  She has been there for me in a way I can never even begin to describe since my mom passed away, but I am trying very hard to push away my sadness because I want Mary to be happy.  She deserves it.  Nuff said about that - you know how I feel, Mary!!  Chris and Cindy - lucky to know both of them and thrilled that they are finally getting married!! Who'd of thunk it??  Seriously, you will never meet two more kind-hearted and genuine people, and did I mention big-time Gamecock fans??  I don't get to see Susan much, but I love her tenacity and her spunk!  She is a woman after my own heart!  Heck she manages rental properties. . . she is one tough chick and so honest.  I love her!  Sammy and Debbie - a fun couple that I have had the pleasure to come to know.  They are a beautiful couple who really love each other and their presence at any function makes me happy!

Sherry and Teesha - where do I even begin?  They are like the sisters I've never had (they are mother and daughter).  I have known them for about 20 years.  They are two of the most down-to-earth people you will ever meet in your life.  And both have the gift of gab, which is a good thing because those of you who know me, know I <3 to talk!!  I could talk until the 12th of never!!  They also did something for me that I will always be grateful for and places them both in a special corner of my heart.  When my my passed away, they did her makeup, hair, and dressed her for me.  They loved her just as much as I did, and she loved them, and that was their final gift to her.  For as long as I live, I will be thankful that God placed them in my life.

There are so many more people who have come in and out of my life but have shaped me into the person I am today, so thank you for your influence on me.  I am a better person for having known you.  I wish I could mention everyone's name, but maybe one day I will write a book about the lasting impact that friends have had on my life.  I have never met a stranger so my list of friends is quite lengthy!  There are my Levittown childhood friends - Donna D., Louann C., Lori C., Janine S., Eva L., Donna B., Kathy K., Lori S., Fran P., Ginny H., Ellen M., Mary H., Debbie B., and I know I have left some out, but I love you all.  There is nothing more unique and enduring than sharing a childhood and teenage years together . . . wow!

There are my school friends - the people whom I have worked with in the past and the ones I work with today.  They carried me through a very difficult year this year and were my rocks . . . I could not have made it without them.  My NAMS family - I love you all!

So, please know that if you are reading this, I consider you to be my friend.  You have left a little part of yourself with me, and I am a patchwork quilt of all my friends . . . a priceless and colorful and vivacious and comforting array of personalities have woven themselves into my life forever.  You know who you are and I love you, too.

So as the Golden Girls theme says, "Thank you for being a friend."  <3

Lost . . . .

Someone's Daughter

I was once someone's daughter, but now at 51, I'm an orphan.  No, I'm not a child, and yes, it's ridiculous to call yourself an orphan at my age, but it's the most definitive way in which I can explain how I feel.

This has been a hard and long summer.  Usually I cannot wait to be out of school and yearn for summer like a child yearns for candy, but I still have 21 days before I go back to work, and it feels like an eternity.  This is like the summer that never ends.  Why is it so bleak?  It's one of the "firsts" - you know, the first Christmas without my mom, the first New Year's without my mom, the first 4th of July without my mom, and now my first summer without my mom, my best friend.

Lost doesn't even begin to describe how I have felt and still feel . . . yes, at this very moment, I'm crying yet again.

I am loved, I know that. But no one will ever love me like my mom did.  It was a special and unconditional love that knew no boundaries.  All she ever wanted was for me to be myself.  She loved that Billy Joel song "I Love You Just the Way You Are," and when I hear it, I know she is singing to me.  She did love me just the way I was.

She knew me in ways that no one else will ever know me.  Yes, I am known to my husband as his wife.  To my kids, I'm their mom.  To my grandson, I'm Mimi.  To my students, I'm Mrs. Frazier.  To my friends, I'm Laurie.  But to my mom, I was just the real me.  I didn't have to be anybody.

I miss those daily phone calls when she used to just call to ask how I was.  I would get so mad sometimes because it seemed like she had radar and always called as soon as I got home or she would call at the wrong times or she would call when I didn't feel like talking.  But now, those calls will never come again, and I miss them deeply.  She didn't want anything from me, she just wanted to know how my day was.  That doesn't happen very often nowadays.

Working through my grief is a journey that I will be taking for the rest of my life.  They say time makes it better, and yes, I do subscribe to that saying, but it also takes me further away from my mom.  I am starting to forget little things about her and it makes me so sad.  I don't like to read like I used to because we shared that bond but now I have no one to share the stories with.  I miss our crazy Saturday morning yardsale treks and how we would go and eat lunch after our shopping for yet more needless things.

Looking into my past needs to be a lesson, not a sentence.  God puts us on this earth to go through a series of lessons and with each lesson, we are supposed to learn to become the person we are ultimately destined to be.  I will continue to weave my past into my present so that my future is stronger than ever.

But I still miss being someone's daughter  . . . .

Sometimes hope peaks through.

Hiding from the Night

It's now 11:42 and I am still up . . . wide awake as a child on Christmas Eve or the night before the first day of school.  Lately, I have not been able to sleep.  I have always been nocturnal, so this comes as no surprise, but while I love the solitude of night, I think I am hiding from it.  It is that time . . . that middle-of-the-night silence that scares me the most because I am alone with my thoughts, which ultimately drift to the loss of my mother, my adult girls' future, my grandson's life, and my husband and his retirement at 56.  Too much thinking for a time when you should be shutting down.  The coolness of the pillow should provide respite and sanctuary from the intrusion and chaos of life. But sleep has been elusive, like that winning lottery ticket that I never seem to be able to find or the numbers I want to see on the scale when I step on.  But I digress  . . . which follows suit with my train of thought at night . . . wandering wherever it pleases.  Sometimes it visits pleasant places and I feel comforted, but mostly it has been seeking out dark and scary places that I try to repress.

This blog, however, has become a safe haven of sorts.  It helps me make sense of my random thoughts. . . I wonder if I'm even normal sometimes.  Will I ever feel like myself again now that my mom is gone?  She was my very best friend, and when I think of a world without her . . . oh no . . . push it down.  I still have to go to her house and sift through her belongings.  It all seems so senseless that we collect all this stuff and then we leave this world, and it stays right here for someone else to make sense of.  Obviously I will never have the same appreciation for some of her things and some things I will downright laugh at, but I know there are some things that will make her life tangible for me . . . her books, her jewelry, her teapots, her Beanie Babies.

I will do this with a heavy heart, but I am hoping to find smile and laugh a little when I do.  Maybe it will be therapeutic and the nights will no longer plague me.

A Long Summer . . .

Today is the first official day of my summer vacation, and normally I would be ecstatic, but oddly enough, I am dreading it . . . I haven't posted in a long time because quite honestly, I feel so lost. I am having a difficult time coming to terms with my mother's death.  This isn't how I thought my life would turn out.  In the back of my mind, I always knew she would probably go before me, but I always thought it was light years from whenever I thought about it.  If I had only known that it was going to be so soon, I would have done thing so differently.  But then again, wouldn't we all?

There is no way to prepare for death.  It just happens.  I don't mean to minimize life, but it just seems so cut and dry sometimes.  Then you start thinking about why are you on this earth and what is your role.  You wish you can have the kind of life that you are supposed to have, but sadly this only happens rarely.

If life is just a series of lessons (and I feel it is), and we evolve into the person we are supposed to be with each lesson, then my mother's death is supposed to teach me something.  Right now, unfortunately, I'm feeling pretty sorry for myself.  I loved her so much (wish I had showed her more) and I know she loved me unconditionally (even when I wasn't the perfect daughter) and now I feel a huge void in my life.  It is selfish to wish that she was still here . . . she was so broken by the time of her death . . . not the woman who moved us to SC in 1975 with everything we owned packed into an Oldsmobile, driving down I-95 searching for a better life.

She changed her life dramatically, so that we could have a better one, so I need to find myself.  The "me" she would want me to be.  The "me" who will continue to make her proud.  The "me" my girls and my grandson can look up to,and one day look back after I'm gone and say she used everything God gave her.  Maybe I need to drive on the I-95 of my life . . .

Within Me

Standing in your sunlight

Soaking up your rays

I watch the light surround you

Igniting all my days

I’d love to be the fire

That sets your world ablaze

Darkness tried to steal you

While confusion taunted your soul.

I want to be the brilliance

That makes the broken whole

Life can be so transient

So fleeting and surreal

But now that you are near me

Slowly we both heal.

Step into the sunlight

And breathe in deep and pure

Let the love that burns within me

Give you reason to endure.

So soak up all the love

That radiates from my heart

And we’ll never be alone

Though we’re miles and miles apart.

February Storm

It's February - my mom's favorite month of the year.  She loved everything about it - the horoscope sign of Pisces, the royal purple of its birthstone amethyst, the candy and flowers of Valentine's Day, the almost-chance of snow some years, and most of all, her birthday.  February 24th, 2012, would have been my mom's 70th birthday.  As the day approached, I became increasingly anxious and fearful.  What could I do to honor her?  How would I make it through the day?  And, what would that day, February 24th, feel like without her gone from my world?  Would I be able to weather life's storms?

The day came . . . it was a downcast day.  I knew it would be melancholy and fragile, mirroring my frame of mind.  I didn't work that day . . . didn't think I could navigate the day at school with students and bells and paperwork and lunch duty.  Visions of me crumpled on the floor like the ashes of an extinguished fire filled me with panic.  Yet somehow, I knew I could survive if I just did things that would make me happy.  I met a friend for coffee at Starbucks, a good friend whom I had not seen in a long while, and surprisingly we picked up as if not one second had passed.

Later I met my daughter Kristen for an early lunch, having just finished a late breakfast of oatmeal and a Venti Blonde at Starbucks.  Kristen soon left, and again that feeling of uneasiness returned, as I was alone with my thought.  I decided to go to Dollar General to buy something, anything, just to occupy my mind, as loneliness was the ghost I feared.

While in the car, I had heard a violent storm was on its way at 75 miles per hour towards somewhere around our area, and it was packing 60 mile-an-hour winds, but I wasn't alarmed because it was not supposed to hit us directly.  In the store, I meandered through the aisles, looking for something to buy.  Picking up and putting down things randomly, I suddenly grew aware of a steady pounding sound.  Sirens seemed to blaring outside.  I made my way to the front of the store, and the doors of store, completely made of glass, as well as large plate glass windows, rattled and wavered with the onslaught of the wind, the piercing sound I had heard.

I assessed the situation quickly as the lights flickered on and off.  Where would I go?  Standing in front of glass doors and a wall of windows did not seem to be the best option.  I began surveying the store looking for  shelter.  As I sat on a carton of detergent boxes in the back of the store, I saw the sign "Women."  That's where I should be - a bathroom.  I surmised that taking cover under the sink would be the most logical plan.

Wait!  It was my mom's 70th birthday . . . she was my guardian angel.  "Mom, I'm scared."  Am I really going to be caught in the wreckage of a tornado as it brings down the Dollar General?  "Please, Mom, ask God to keep us all safe.  Please stop this storm.  It's your birthday, so surely this can't be happening to me?"

As quickly as it started, it ceased.  The sound of nothing felt so good as I realized the rain stopped and the wind died.  I was okay, and my life would not end at the Dollar General on my mom's 70th birthday.  I weathered the storm and will weather the storms.

My World Without You

Today was a gloomy day.  I think I've been in denial about my mother being gone.  It's like I have tucked her away in a small compartment and rather have chosen to just believe I haven't seen her in a while.  There are so many things that scare me when I think about how I will deal without her in my life . . . my future, my own children, my grandchild, just about everything.  She was always my rock . . . and somehow I falsely believed she would always be there.  And as long as she was on this planet, I had a buffer zone . . . a safe haven.  But now my world feels so incredibly large and blank . . . I am not saying I'm not blessed for I truly am, but I feel lonely now.  I am drifting from day to day with my good days, my okay days, and my just plain sad days.  So many days I want to just pick up the phone and call her and then I have to steel myself when I realize I can't.  Don't think I haven't tried . . . but when I dial her number, I get the following, "The number you have reached has been changed or is no longer in service."  No longer in service . . .

Me and Belle

I was dreading going back to school today, but I attempted to put on a brave face because that's what grown-ups do, right?  As I was heading out the door, I noticed a horrible smell.  I looked over and saw my poor little Taco lying in his own "sickness."  Just laying there, helpless.  I had to go to work, and I just couldn't handle it.  I called for David, and he came downstairs to take care of Taco.  

Later in the day, I got a call from David, which I missed because I still had students.  When I could, I texted him back to ask about Taco.  David replied, "He's gone."  I dialed David's number and he picked up.  I could tell he had been crying.  He told me about how the vet said Taco was one sick little dog, and of course, they both made the decision to put him to sleep.  The vet asked David if he wanted to be in there.  Well, no one wants to see an animal die, but if you have a dog or a cat who has become a part of your family, there is no hesitation.  Out of love, you hold that pet and stroke its head or cuddle its body while his life slowly ebbs away.  David did that for Taco today and for me.

Now Belle (Taco's other half - Taco & Belle - get it?) and I are grieving together.  She is tinier than Taco, and right now she seems so frail.  Taco and Belle were two halves of a whole.  Wherever you saw Taco, Belle wasn't far away.  So Belle is grieving along with me.  We have lost our best friends.  The only solace I take is knowing Taco is not sick anymore, and he is a young pup in Heaven.  I smile when I think he is there to take care of my mom, the faithful lapdog that he was.

It might seem strange or even silly to some people that a human can get so attached to a dog or a cat or a bird or any other type of pet, but I believe God places animals in our lives to teach us about ourselves.  Taco taught me about aspects of myself that I didn't know existed because before I had him, I'd never had a house dog.  He brought me comfort, happiness, and laughter.  I will miss his furry little body perched in my lap, under the covers while I read or search the internet or watch TV.    

My mom was a huge animal lover also.  She had three pets when she died - Andy (a rescue dog), Lulu (her 60th birthday present), and Dude (a slightly offbeat cat).  As she had no children in her house, her pets became her children.  She even cooked for them and hand-fed them.  It's strange because the last week of her life, I was driving by her house on the way to the nursing home, and I asked her if she wanted me to stop by her house to see Andy and Lulu and Dude.  Sadly, she said no because it would be to hard.  If only we had known . . .

So Belle and I will grieve together, and oddly enough, we will go through this healing process together.  Yes, God places animals in our lives for a purpose.  He knew.

Time stops for no one

After 21 days, I am going back to work tomorrow.  I have mixed emotions - I'm scared and sad and tired and weak, yet I am also optimistic and hopeful that going back to a routine will begin the healing process.  It's good to have order in your life, and the last three weeks (well really the last four months) have been like trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle with pieces missing.

I told my husband yesterday that I don't even feel like teaching anymore.  He was pretty shocked to hear me say that, and then he said, "Is that how your mother would want you to feel?"  I wanted to cry for being so miserable and pitiful.  She was so very proud of me . . . I'm the only one in my family who graduated from college - Bachelor's and Master's degrees.  Was she proud of me?  Yes!!  She used to talk about being at my first graduation with Kristen on her knee (Kristen was not even two), and then she was there for the second one (Master's) in May of 2008.  She didn't like crowds and surely didn't like all the stairs she had to climb in the Civic Center, but she was there.  Both times she saw me walk across that stage and clutch that diploma.  For that I will be forever thankful.

I do regret that she never got to see me in action as a teacher.  She never even came to my classroom . . . I don't know why, but it never worked out.  But she knew what my days were like . . . I filled her ear with everything that happened . . . I usually called her in the car on the way home from work as that was the only alone time I had.  If I ever missed those phone calls, she would call me and say, "You didn't call me."

So tomorrow as I drive home from work, there will be no phone call.  The silence will be heartbreaking and the feeling will be stifling.  As much as I will want to pick up that phone and dial 645-2522, I can't . . . not ever again.  I see her number as a favorite in my contacts . . . 645-2522 . . . I am starting to forget the sound of her voice . . . yes, I have deleted all the voice mails I've had from her, never thinking she would leave me, and the last text message I have from her asks me to call her because she is so worried that she hadn't heard back from the nursing home.  She was only at the nursing home for four days . . .

Going back to school tomorrow will be one of the most difficult days of my life because it is also a reminder that life goes on.  No matter how much you are hurting or suffering, time continues, people keep living, and the world keeps spinning . . . it stops for no one . . . me included.

I may not be able to call my mom, but I will be talking to her every day on my way home . . . I hope she hears me.

The Dress

So 2011 is officially gone . . . hallelujah!  2011 was my test and so far, I probably have a C-.  It's been a difficult year.  Not really complaining, but difficult things far outweighed the good ones.  I won't go into all of them because those of you who know me just know.

Last night was New Year's Eve, and everyone was festive.  Everyone but me.  We spent the time at a dear friend's house, and believe me, they are some of the best friends a girl could have, but without my mom, nothing feels right.

I just couldn't get myself in the festive mood.  Maybe if I had gotten dressed up and gone out to a fabulous party with dancing and crowds and music and champagne, there might have been a slight chance I could have gotten lost in it.  I could have even worn "the dress."

Let me tell you about the "the dress."  This dress a links my mom, me, and my daughters.  Do you remember flapper dresses?  Well, I don't think anyone actually was around when they were popular, or if you were, you probably don't know how to use a computer (sorry ... just trying to make myself chuckle a little).  Well, in my closet hangs a black flapper mini-dress.  It was made in the 1960's and doesn't even have a real size - I think it is Size B, whatever that means.  It is a simple black dress with layers and layers of black fringe and bands glittering black sequins and spaghetti sequin straps.  Putting it on makes you feel quite sexy or flirty or whimsical, just plain happy.  You want to twirl and dance to Chubby Checker's "The Twist" or shimmy to "The Charleston."  It makes you feel like a Dr. Suess character or a Tim Burton siren!

So what is special about this dress?  My mom and I had lots of talks about "the dress."  She said she wore it to a Halloween party one year in the 1960's, and to top it off, my dad was Dracula (bet that was one crazy shindig!).  What amazes me is that my mom ever fit into that dress.  She has always been overweight, but I cannot even remember her ever being that size.  Heck, I don't even know if I can fit into the dress anymore, but I'm gonna try (I'll try to post a picture if I can squeeze myself into it!).  I bet my mom was gorgeous that night!  She always dyed her hair Elvis-black back in the day, and she wore cat-rimmed glasses with faux diamonds, dark thick eyeliner, and the fire-engine red lipstick.  I'm pretty sure she was wearing black patent leather high-heels, too, when she went to that party.  Oh, if I could just see a snapshot of that long-ago magical moment . . .

I've worn the dress to a Halloween party, too (on a few occasions when I could stuff myself into it).  I, too, wore high heels and black fishnet stockings and even a sequined band around my head with a few feathers and strands of sparkling beads hanging low!  For a moment, I felt my mom and the fun she had when she wore that dress.

Meghann has worn the dress for Halloween.  I have pictures somewhere, and I plan to scan and post them.  She was a natural in that dress - always hamming it up for the camera.  Exaggerated makeup, cute bob, and those pouty brown eyes . . . she looked liked she had jumped out of another era.  She was only about 10 when she wore it, so she will have to don the dress as an adult for some special occasion!

I don't think Kristen has worn the dress to a Halloween party yet, but we owe it to my mom that she does.  Kristen would look stunning in it because of her height and her flair for fashion.  She might even wear some of the dangling earrings that my mom loved to hang from her ears!  Blingy and glitzy and even gaudy are some appropriate adjectives to describe my mom's style, and each of us have taken a little cue from her (have you seen the picture of my Miss Me Jeans from Buckle with rows of sequins on the butt?)  Pictures are coming . .

Yes, it's just a dress.  But it ties us all together in a way that is unique.  My mom is gone, but her legacy lives on in me, my daughters, and all the family and friends whose lives she touched.  "The dress" is our link forever.

Maybe my New Year's Resolution should be to slim down to do that dress justice and just paint the town "red" or "black" one special night as a tribute to my mom.  The only catch - she'd be mad that she wasn't there with me!

Goodbye 2011. . . 2012 . . . please be kind.