On this day two years ago, I lost my mom. My daughter lost her grandma. My grandparents lost their daughter. To put it extremely lightly, that day sucked. So did the days, weeks, months and now years after. Sure things have gotten easier in some ways. The pain not so sharp and fresh, not so constant. I don't wake up crying, or have trouble falling asleep as frequently. But it is harder in other ways. As my girls hit milestones, do funny things, or I need to vent about the stresses of marriage and motherhood, it just makes the fact that she is not here more real. I am not writing this for sympathy. That is the last thing I want. I am writing this hoping that somebody can learn something new about the mother I loved, or learn from my mistakes. 

I didn't get to say goodbye to my mom. I think that hurt the most. I can't even recall our last conversation. I know in the weeks before the accident we had talked about KJ's upcoming birthday party and designed her cake. I remember her mentioning how badly she wanted to buy KJ's first dirt bike for Christmas, and someday she wanted myself, her and KJ to race. Seriously, three generations on the starting line would have been a sight to see! She was so proud of her grand baby. I wish she could meet KM, she'd be head-over-heels in love with her. She wouldn't let weeks or months pass without seeing her grandchild. She was always calling or texting, asking how KJ was doing and how I was holding up being a new mom. She answered all of my silly questions, even at two or three in the morning. The realization that she will never answer the phone again, that my girls won't have her in their life, is hard to digest. 

I still catch myself thinking I should give her a call when I am driving home from running errands, when KJ says something hilarious, or I am at a loss of what to do. When KM was sick with RSV at only a week and a half old it took everything I had to hold it together. Not only because my baby was sick, but because I wanted my mom. I wanted to call her, ask her what I should do and get some medical advice. The nurse in her always came through when KJ was a baby. I could count on her to calm me when I freaked out over the hiccups, or tell me when I should go ahead and take her in to get checked out. She would be the first to tell you that she made mistakes. There were certainly some rocky years. But I will tell you with confidence that she was one heck of a grandma and took so much pride in KJ. 

I have my regrets. I didn't spend enough time with my mom, I don't have enough pictures of her and KJ, I let her drive all the way to babysit on Tuesday nights when I know she barely had enough gas money. There are so many situations I wish I could do over and make right. I wish I would have hugged her longer at Deanna Rose, the last time I saw her in person. I wish I would have grabbed the camera from her that day and took pictures of her and KJ petting goats, watching the cows and waving at the buffalo. But this is life, there are no do-overs. So remember that, as you go day to day. Make your family a priority, don't push them aside telling yourself when life slows down you will get together. Speak with love and kindness, always. And hug your loved ones tight, you never know when they will be taken from you. 

-Court

P.S.- KJ did in fact have the coolest birthday cake ever, designed by my mom. Oh and for Christmas? There was a shiny Honda CRF50 with training wheels waiting under the tree. And I know my mom was smiling down, seeing those promises fulfilled.