She was excited as always to see us all—I think seeing us somehow makes her feel as if Mom is close, maybe? She went right to work as we were there, making us some jars of homemade hot chocolate powder, and wanting to make a pound cake and some other goodies. She said she was going to be our Mom this Christmas, and that really means alot knowing that she cares enough about us to want to try to be there for us. Our Uncle Gary had us all laughing so much with just about everything that we would talk about—something that we all can use more of these days. We all had a great time, and unfortunately don’t get to see each other often enough.

There’s no nightmare stories or memories of others drinking. It’s just a complete personal decision. My parents were never like “you better not ever drink” or anything like that. In fact, I never remember even having a discussion about it at all. I’ve never had the desire to, and as bad as things could ever be, I’m extremely confident that I will never have the desire to, ever. It’s a harder path to take, if you want to consider the ridicule you’ll get from the occasional “friend” or in-law, but I prefer to be 100% coherent 100% of the time.

It’s true—I’m an observer, a listener, a thinker.

So with thinking about all of that, I keep asking myself, what is the point of life? We go to school to learn so that we can get a job. We get a job and make investments so that we can make money. We make money so that we can have what we need now, and save for what we need later. Somewhere in the middle of all of that, you’re supposed to reach the high of life called happiness. Happiness eventually becomes contentness, which usually at some point will become discontent–whether is an unwelcomed change or a rut that just can’t be gotten out of.

As horrible as it would be to be someone that just thrives on materialistic wants and desires, I am jealous at how they aren’t burdened with the questions that always seem to weigh me down. It becomes spiritually exhausting. Perhaps everyone at some time or another does hit the point that I am at in life now. Maybe I’m just there prematurely compared to the masses. Maybe it’s abnormal. I don’t know.

I can’t say for certain what’s got me in the downer mood that I’m in now—perhaps it’s just a little bit of everything. One thing is for certain though, when you feel that you’re at the absolute lowest point possible, there’s no where else to go but up.

What do people fear most about death? I asked the Reb.
“Fear?” He thought for a moment. “Well, for one thing, what happens next? Where do we go? Is it what we imagined?”
That’s big.
“Yes. But there’s something else.”
What else?
He leaned forward.
“Being forgotten,” he whispered.
Have a Little Faith, Mitch Albom

Chase and I have conversations often, trying to recollect how things used to be. It’s really disheartening when neither of us can remember what Mom used to say for certain times or things. I don’t want to forget any of the small details of the way things used to be or the way things used to happen. That’s a part of who I am, and to forget anything like that is numbing. It actually scares me that as time passes people forget. I don’t want to forget people, and I don’t want to be forgotten when I’m gone. Life’s scary sometimes, ya know?

What I’m having a hard time with is what it must be like to be her, or just as much, her husband. See, as scary as learning that you have cancer is, it’s learning that you have a time left to go with it, and her doctors have given her 2 months. I am completely positive that they are both right with God, and perhaps even as scary as it could be for them, maybe knowing in their hearts that they’ll see each other again in Heaven is what will make it easier for them.

In one sense, I think it would be better to know approximately how much time you had left. But I don’t know. With Mom, it was cancer, but the doctors talked like she was going to be okay. I know you never know, but had I have known, the months leading up to her leaving would have been worlds different. I know she wouldn’t have wanted us to change a thing because of her, but I would have wanted to. I would have.

I hope I get to see her again. But even if I don’t, I’ll always remember her as the wonderful person that she is.

You are in part to blame too for any resentment or hurt feelings that now exists between anyone in my family, for without you taking Mom, that would have never happened. I hope you’re happy, because I hate you with every ounce of my being.

I miss you so much Mom—today and every day.