But I can catch you up in a nutshell:
Spring went by in a rush, followed by a very busy summer with work, life, etc. I worked at the LPGA (which is a true ass kicker) and several other work related events over the summer... fall went by in a flash, and then... December.
The beginning of the month was a blur... every department in Wegmans had their holiday party (which we hosted at the conference facility), and Chris was opening the much anticipated Next Door Bar and Grill (December 11).
Opening came and went, and the restaurant was crazy busy... restaurant and gift certificate sales went through the roof, and you couldn't get a reservation to save your life. I went over to help sell gift certificates, along with other members of my team, because we were winding down with parties and wanted to help out in any way we could.
December 17th... I was at the restaurant helping out... it was about 2:00 in the afternoon, and Chris comes up to me and tells me he had to talk to me in private. His tone and body language made me think there was trouble, but I was in no way prepared for the news he was about to lay on me: That my mother had passed away. My world stopped- time stopped- I couldn't hear him or understand him. We stood there in the office and I went completely numb. That moment is imprinted on me in the same way the Shuttle did when it blew up, or when the Towers fell... I will remember every millisecond in excruciating detail for the rest of my life.
On December 15th, sometime in the early evening, she had just gotten finished cooking dinner, when she literally dropped to the floor, either from an aneurysm or massive heart attack. She was alone, her cell phone still on the counter above her. It would be two days before her ex-husband #2 found her (they had made plans to get together, and when she didn't return his phone calls, he went by to check on her). The coroner said she wouldn't have felt any pain.
Let me tell you a few things about my mother...
Like a lot of women I know, the relationship I had with my mother was strained at best- it wasn't the picture of warm and fuzzy. Our phone conversations mostly gravitated towards how broke she was, and how it was my daughterly duty to buy her a house, or a car, or pay off her credit cards, etc. On Mother's Day, she told me that I was the mother and she was the child, and how it was my job to take care of her. The last time I physically saw her was July 2009, where we sat in uncomfortable silence eating lunch, and I was counting the minutes until I leave to meet up with friends. The last time I saw my mother alive, she was standing in front of her house, tears in her eyes, as I was pulling away.
I am the same age now as my mother was when she left my dad for the guy my dad hired to do yard work for her, because he felt that she needed help, and he was away a lot on business trips. That man (if you can call him that) would come to be the bane of my existence, and a wedge that would drive my mother and I apart forever. I have always been critical of her life choices, and have held them against her for as long as I can remember, but now that she's gone, none of that seems important. We can get into the gory details at a later time.
My mother's mother (my Nana) is still alive, and I guess I had it in my head that my own mother would be around as long as she is... I still find myself dialing her number from time to time, feeling guilty about not having spoken to her in a while. My hope is that I can finally come to grips with her death, and learn to love and appreciate her as my mother, not as the pain in the ass financial and mental drain that I had considered her to be for so long.
my mom, sister and me, taken May of 2007
My point in writing all of this, is that her passing was a huge wake up call for me, on more levels than I can count. Firstly, I have this overwhelming desire to write- and to continue this blog. My goal is still the same: to give you a 365 degree view of me, but I will use the lessons I have learned and try to be as honest as I can. I will still use photography as a vehicle to demonstrate who I am, what I'm feeling, etc., and I hope that in reading this, you will learn a little more about me.
