As most of my faithful readers know, my journal (which I’ve used on and off for years to purge my feelings), has now turned into where I write to my mommy. I’m not sure that this will stay this way for ever but, for now that’s the deal. Sometimes, though, like tonight, what I’m writing just feels like a blog entry and so, here is the letter I wrote tonight to my beautiful mother, who I lost last August.

Hi Love. I’ve been having a hard time lately. Ma, was that you with the 11:11 on my phone this AM? I got out of the shower and just felt like I couldn’t leave the house. I had an important meeting with Angie at 2:30 and I just didn’t feel like I could do it. I picked up the cell phone to call Angie and tell her that I didn’t think I could get out of the house today – it was that bad, and alas, the time on the cell was 11:11. Just in case, I forced myself and got through the day.
I have to tell you, though, Mommy, that that is the only way I feel that you communicate with me. The whole 11:11 thing. I don’t feel you around me. Where are you, mom?

Are you the orb in the pictures? Sometimes on my shoulder, sometimes by my stomach? Is that  just a dirty camera lens or are you that close that you are sitting on my shoulder? Sadly, I don’t feel that you are.

I guess because we were so very close, I thought that once you were gone, I would feel you all around me. I don’t.
Are you the butterfly that showed up on Memorial Day and wouldn’t leave? Are you the cardinals that I see from time to time (although, when you were alive, we thought that those were grandpa – LOL).

How about what psychic Glenn Dove said to Chrissy? The minute she sat down he said “who is Nicole?”. I heard it on tape. You know how skeptical I am, though. Did she give him some information before and he did a little leg work? I know she gives the whole readings to psychics by her obvious reactions to everything they say. It’s very hard, if they are not real, to get around them. Even I, who give them barely anything but yes or no answers am aware that if they say something that touches me, I may involuntarily smile, or frown, or clasp my hands together. It’s hard to say if the Glenn Dove thing was real or not. Of course, when I went, he immediately said that you were with me the entire time and, although he seemed to nail your personality, I just can’t help but be skeptical. I mean, magicians cut woman in half, you know what I mean? Oh, and I bought the girls tickets for John Edwards for Christmas. We went last February. Guess what? Nothing. That makes how many times we’ve gone and not gotten called? At least Chrissy didn’t cry on the way home like she used to when we would go for Grandma and she didn’t come through.

I don’t know, Mommy. I hope you are somewhere. That you can see that Jack made the Football Team at school and got moved from the “B” team to the “A” team in just a few games. He also just got braces. I hope you see them? Or the new house. Or the new building. Or how tall Michael has gotten and how strong he is. I hope you see what a special young man he is turning into (although he is still sometimes a ROYAL pain in the you know what). I hope you have seen the new baby, Mason. He is so beautiful. He looks like Lori. He laughed for the first time today.

Or maybe you have come back to us as a different person. That is a theory, as you know. You keep coming back, until your soul is ready to stay “up there” forever but, you continue to stay with the same people. Like, I could have been Aunt Carol’s mother in the last life. Maybe you ARE Mason – that’s how you have come back to us. Or maybe you are someone new that we have met and who has come into our lives recently.

It’s possible that the Indian beliefs are at work and you have come back to this earth as an animal. Paulie Walnuts, maybe? He definitely has your spunk! Or maybe you are in India, and are worshiped as whatever animal you have come back as. You deserve that. To be worshiped. Do you know that I have been thinking about it since your gone and with the exception of you know who (who doesn’t even count), I have never met one person who has not liked you and who was not deeply affected by your death.

Are you in heaven, Mommy? That is where I hope you are. I have no idea what it would look like but, if you are there you know how many people I have prayed for since you’ve gone. I hope that you have found Olivia Grace and you are spending time with her. I know how much you loved Vincent and how devastated you were when we lost him. I hope you found him. And, of course, I hope that you are with Grandma and my honey and all of your aunts, uncles, cousins and friends that have gone before you. I hope that there really is no unhappiness, fear or yearning there. I hope that, for the first time since your late teens, you are able to have a mind that is completely free of fear. I hope you are at complete peace. I hope that some of life’s mysteries have been solved for you.

Chrissy and I were talking about it today and, we hope that the reason we don’t feel you around (like we have with some others who have passed) is because you were so GOOD that you went right up. You took the HOV lane right to the top. No purgatory. No needing to tie up loose ends here. We all knew you loved us, we all knew what you wanted from us, you taught us strength, to have gumption, and to know how to take care of ourselves.

I think that’s what happened. And, I hope that 11:11 is your way of letting me know that you ARE someplace else and not just “no where”. They say that the deceased do try and communicate through numbers and electronics and this would be both. I would say I see it at least five or six times a week now. And, usually, like I said earlier, when I need you most.

Like you used to say about Grandma and Grandpa, I hope you are even more powerful up there than you were here. I have to say, the last year and a half have been filled with heartbreak for our family but, I also believe in a big picture for things so, I still hold out hope that you are guiding us and helping us and there for us.

You are my mother and so, of course, I still cry for the loss of you. I want you to know, though, that just in the last week or so, Barbara, Angie, Aunt Angela – they have all cried for you, too. It doesn’t matter that it has been about a year and a half.

The heart prints you have left on this earth are immeasurable. Yeah, I’m pretty sure you are spreading those heart prints somewhere else now. Somewhere so beautiful and wonderful our human minds can’t even fathom what it looks like.

As always, we all love and miss you.

Oh, and I heard recently that to people in heaven, time moves differently. In other words, I feel a hole in my gut when I think that I will live another forty so odd years (God willing) before we can be together again but, for you, those forty years feel like a day. To that I say, “Put the coffee on, see you tomorrow, we have a LOT to catch up on.”