Being Debby Downer today ... (sorry)

As much as I love the holidays, this time of year is always touched by a bit of sadness for me. My mom died 10 days before Christmas in 2000, and it's generally unavoidable for me not to be thinking of that starting sometime in November. I remember the last conversations I had with her, how Jerry and I had just bought our first house and how excited she was to come see it (she never got to), and then I remember that call from my father, how I'd never heard him like that before ... how it was so clear from his voice that her illness was serious. How I went to my company Christmas party that night (I'd booked a flight out the next morning) and tried my best to put on a merry front, but failed so miserably.

Enough of that. This could quickly turn into a downward spiral.

So yesterday, a bit of this was on my mind, and a realization hit me. She's been gone almost 10 years. I'm almost 40 (well, 39 on my next birthday). That means I've lived almost a quarter of my life without her. I mean, it should have been obvious, given the simple math ... and perhaps the fact that I've gotten married, bought two (soon three) more houses since that first one, had two of her grand-kids since her death ...

But I'd never thought of it in that way. A quarter of my life. That seems like such a big chunk. A heartbreakingly big chunk.

I just miss her. All the time. But more this time of year, given the timing of her death and how much she loved the holidays herself. She'd be in her kitchen right now, cooking like crazy in her sweats and an apron, probably, if she were still alive.

Well, anyway ...

If you are spending part of your Thanksgiving holiday with your mom (dad, grandparents, anyone you love and can't imagine not having in your life anymore ...), give them a big hug. You really, truly never know when it'll be your last chance.