Ready

 I keep dropping the ball. I will start to write a post. Then I put it down. Tomorrow is my parents 55th anniversary. So I couldn’t look away.

I went to see my mom a few weekends ago. I warned the kids that things had gotten worse. That this may be the last time they see her. That she may not recognize them. That she may not recognize Ziggy. Which blows me away. Ziggy. She sat for hours rocking him his first weekend of life. He would do the same for her in her last moments if he could. She didn’t even look at him when he sat with her. He just held her hand. I could see his little heart crumble. He wasn’t ready. I’m not ready. 


She is just a whisper now. I keep thinking, “I should call mom.” And then I remember. I can’t. 


My family and I met my dad at the High Museum this last weekend. I think it was a bit overwhelming for Dad and I. So many memories of mom. So many moments there as a family. Museums were sacred to her. And to my dad. So I followed him around looking at him like I was still a child. Trying to read what he needed.


All this in the midst of crazy hopeful life. I'm pregnant again. It’s very early but at this stage I celebrate everything. We had a few early scares with this little peanut. But it’s holding fast. 


Everytime I think of this new baby I think of my mom. How glad I am to hat she was able to hold Weldon. To smile at her and kiss her head. To tell me how beautiful she is. I think of how she rocked Ziggy for hours. And sang “Sally put your red shoes on,”to Charlie, who sings it to this day when she is looking for her shoes. 


I am elated and heartbroken all at once. I guess that just means I’m alive.

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