There are a million things to do. Â A million tasks that must be completed. Â But, I would be missed if I did not pause for a moment and reflect. Â First of all, I must say that the tasks are all bullshit. Â On my death bed, I won't think: shit! I wish I'd had time to scrub that toilet that one day of that one month of that one year so long ago! But perhaps, I might remember the giggles of my little girl as we played this morning or how ecstatic she got when we jumped in the shower (it's like a water park to her!). I am stressed. Â I sat down tonight to get working on some flowcharts. Â But to be honest, my mind is packed with thoughts and feelings that are not letting me concentrate on the task at hand. Â I am reading a book called Focus at the moment which I hope will put me on the right track. Â But, it's more than just not having focus. Â You see, today is the 2 month anniversary of my mami's death. Â I sit at my desk surrounded with images of her. Â And I remember so much all at once. Â Her smile, her greeting to me (she'd always say: hello little one). Â Her spirit. Â I also remember her work ethic but most of all her very clear perspective on priorities. Â We were always it. Â No questions asked. Â No stopping to pause and wonder if that was the right answer.
One day I hope my frog princess can say the same about me. Â That she was always the priority in my life. Â It's making me rethink the Evo and the iPhone. Â Making me wonder if I should really get that iPad2. Â I want my child to remember my eye contact, not the sight of my phone or whatever other distraction I might find in the course of a day. Â All I want is time with my child and time to get through this grief.
To say that I miss my mami is the understatement of the millennia. Â I have so much going on and her advice was always readily available to me, no matter what. Â As I walk through situations I hear mami's voice in her dismissive tone usually saying: leave it alone or let it go, but I still want her words. Her presence. Â Yes, I know she is "with me". That she's in a better place. Â But to be honest, that shit doesn't bring much comfort. Â I mean it does but at the end of the day, it doesn't make me miss her less. Â It does not, by any means of the imagination, buffer the pain. Â Don't let anyone fool you into thinking that it does.
Every night, the frog princess and I pray. Â And I always start thanking God for whatever it is that I am thankful for on that day. Â I always thank him for my baby girl. Â And some days, that's all I got. Â My gratitude session is followed by prayer and petitions. Â I don't wish for my mom back (Stephen King made sure of that because all I can think of is Pet Cemetery and who wants a crazy zombie mom, you know?). Â I don't pray for anyone to take her place (that's all kinds of impossible). Â Some days, all I can pray for is help and then a quick thanks. Â Tonight, I should've prayed for a miracle on this flowchart. Â I think I'll go pray for some divine intervention on this after I post. Â I pray for God to ease my pain and the pain of those closest to my mami. Â I pray for God to help me understand her absence and accept it. Â I pray for other people afflicted by cancer. Â Pray for health and all kinds of other good stuff. Â It's important to me that I continue to pray for others. Some days, I just have the thought and strength to pray for God to let me make it through another day. Â I cannot imagine what things would be like if I didn't have my frog princess. Can't imagine the additional hollow I might feel. I am so thankful and blessed that my mami got to meet her granddaughter. Â Before she got sick we were driving one day and mami said: I always have prayed that God would let me see my grandchildren. Â Though I could not have predicted what was coming, I remember thinking: why didn't you pray for more? But, that's the character of my mother. Â She was content with what she was given and pleased when her prayers were answered regardless of what was to come. Â Mami didn't want fancy cars, a big house, expensive things to fill it. Â Mami wanted her family. Â More and more I find myself thinking that that's the route I want my life to take as well (not that I have ever been a materialistic person, mind you). Â My mind is filled with so much emotion right now, I can't pluck the thoughts so perhaps I will call it quits for the time being.
In the meantime, I will not regret choosing to spend time with my child today instead of tackling the task list. Â Tomorrow, I may do the same. Â Who can resist giggles and hugs, especially when they so efficiently ease the sorrow?