Yesterday evening I started missing my mom very much. I miss
her all the time, but, every now and then it gets tough to handle, like it’s
still fresh. I’ve noticed that sometimes it makes me feel very little, very
young when I miss her like that. I draw pictures of us or I write to her or I
just cry.
I wanted to hear from her so badly that I went back through
her CaringBridge journal to read her entries—to “hear” her voice. We’re closing
in on fall and that was the last season she was writing regularly. Anyone who
knew my mom knows how much she loved fall. We don’t really get fall here in
Austin—it feels more like spring in reverse. The days cool off (80 degrees! oh
my!) and the nights get chilly. But the sun shines warm and everything stays
green longer and then shoots really quickly to brown and dead. But I’ve heard of
a place down south called Lost Maples and it’s supposed to have amazing fall
colors. I’m going to be sure to head down there this November to see Lisa’s season
at its fullest (Texas style).
My mom was never very adventurous when it came to “home”.
She grew up and lived most of her life in Southern California and then moved
north to be closer to her parents. She didn’t like change and didn’t like being
uprooted from her routine. But she never imposed that on me. She encouraged my
travels and adventures even when she doubted their success. She knew I’d make
the most of it. She knew I’d get by. And she knew when I started talking about
Travis that he was the perfect fit for my wandering ways…
She was right about me all the time. It was infuriating when
I was a teenager, but so priceless when I got a little older.
Anyway, Travis and I aren’t done adventuring. We have big
plans for our future and I know my mom would be cheering us on. That gives me
the courage I need to really pursue it. I’m a relentless planner—never satisfied
with the present—and the plans we’re cooking up are BIG. But I’ve got the
passion to match.
Mom told me to live and I won’t let her down.
