Giggles and Hugs (and a pinch of sorrow)

There are a million things to do.  A million tasks that must be completed.  But, I would be missed if I did not pause for a moment and reflect.  First of all, I must say that the tasks are all bullshit.  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.  I sat down tonight to get working on some flowcharts.  But to be honest, my mind is packed with thoughts and feelings that are not letting me concentrate on the task at hand.  I am reading a book called Focus at the moment which I hope will put me on the right track.  But, it's more than just not having focus.  You see, today is the 2 month anniversary of my mami's death.  I sit at my desk surrounded with images of her.  And I remember so much all at once.  Her smile, her greeting to me (she'd always say: hello little one).  Her spirit.  I also remember her work ethic but most of all her very clear perspective on priorities.  We were always it.  No questions asked.  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.  That she was always the priority in my life.  It's making me rethink the Evo and the iPhone.  Making me wonder if I should really get that iPad2.  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.  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.  I have so much going on and her advice was always readily available to me, no matter what.  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.  Yes, I know she is "with me". That she's in a better place.  But to be honest, that shit doesn't bring much comfort.  I mean it does but at the end of the day, it doesn't make me miss her less.  It does not, by any means of the imagination, buffer the pain.  Don't let anyone fool you into thinking that it does.

Every night, the frog princess and I pray.  And I always start thanking God for whatever it is that I am thankful for on that day.  I always thank him for my baby girl.  And some days, that's all I got.  My gratitude session is followed by prayer and petitions.  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?).  I don't pray for anyone to take her place (that's all kinds of impossible).  Some days, all I can pray for is help and then a quick thanks.  Tonight, I should've prayed for a miracle on this flowchart.  I think I'll go pray for some divine intervention on this after I post.  I pray for God to ease my pain and the pain of those closest to my mami.  I pray for God to help me understand her absence and accept it.  I pray for other people afflicted by cancer.  Pray for health and all kinds of other good stuff.  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.  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.  Before she got sick we were driving one day and mami said: I always have prayed that God would let me see my grandchildren.  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.  She was content with what she was given and pleased when her prayers were answered regardless of what was to come.  Mami didn't want fancy cars, a big house, expensive things to fill it.  Mami wanted her family.  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).  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.  Tomorrow, I may do the same.  Who can resist giggles and hugs, especially when they so efficiently ease the sorrow?