Taking a Break

I got into town yesterday, and felt very lethargic, definitely not in any state to write my second chapter of my thesis that is due today. In fact, we were both too tired to unpack. We just kind of sat around and napped. The visit was wonderful. I got to hang out with tj's side of the family and my side of the family- minus jason :( I had fun visiting a green house and spending a gift card, imagining what i am going to work on next with all my new scrapbooking items, making tasty strawberry freezer jam with gail and tj, listening to my grandma tell some stories. I guess when we got together to celebrate father's day and birthday, she said it was her farewell party. I walked into her spare bedroom to look at some old family photos. I imagined i would look again at photos i had seen a hundred times, but instead, my eyes fell to this unfamiliar photo.When i saw it, i immediately put my hand up to my mouth and started crying. Some things just do that to me. . . mostly when i am not expecting it. That is a picture of my mom, eight months pregnant with Jason, and my grandma getting ready to cook in the kitchen. It was their smiles that made me emotional. They both look so incredibly happy. I showed this picture to my grandma. She always says she misses my mom and then gets kind of upset and doesn't want to look at the picture anymore. When i say upset, i mean kind of angry at the unfairness of it all. She said they were good friends and that she loved my mom.

When i got home last night, i relaxed with a good book- For one More Day by Mitch Albom. I picked up this book, not knowing it was about this guy having one more day with his mom after she had died-- to talk with her, to listen to her, to enjoy her touches and her laugh. Ya, not the best book to read, i know, but i did anyway. Here are some lines i liked:

This is said while she is cooking him dinner (remember, he never thought he would have this opportunity and knows he won't have it again) "I had forgotten the small joy of listening to my mom talk about herself."

This is speaking to the reader- "I hope you never hear those words. Your mom. She died. They are different than other words. They are too big to fit in your ears. They belong to some strange, heavy, powerful language that pounds away at the side of your head, a wrecking ball coming at you again and again until finally, the words crack a hole large enough to fit inside your brain. And in so doing, they split you apart."

"I saw in her expression that old, unshakable mountain of concern. And i realized when you look at your mother, you are looking at the purest love you will ever know."

Break is over. I am past the deadline. I am late and far behind.