Exist Loudly

Celebrating Lek 2014

December 17, 2009 seems so far way, yet it feels like yesterday. You’ve been gone 5 years now Mama. 5 YEARS! It seems like yesterday and yet also feels like a lifetime ago. Time sometimes seems like it moves like molasses and sometimes it seems like lightning flashing across the sky. There are moments where I forget you’re gone and will pick up the phone to call you or take a photo of something I know you’d like. It’s in those moments that I know you’re standing by my side. Then there are the moments where I need you or a sign that you’re there or near and I get nothing. Those moments make me so mad and frustrated that you’re not there and then I feel horrible for being mad and frustrated at you and not the situation.

I still talk to you and ask you for your advice. I think I always will. They say time heals all wounds but there are some wounds that I don’t think heal with time. I think the heartache of it gets less. There will always be a giant void in my life where you should be in it. Nothing can fill that void. It’s your space. It belongs to you. All I can do is keep the space clean and remember the good from you and in you. It’s like putting a transparent piece of tape over the void. It’s still there but nothing can get in, nor out. So maybe, time seals some wounds. Maybe it seals wounds to remind us that life is short and there is nothing more important than the very moment we are living. Not yesterday. Not tomorrow. Just right now.

I can look back and see all the would’ve, should’ve, could’ve that I would’ve, should’ve, could’ve done, but I also know that life is one fucked up dream where parts are nightmarish and parts are fairytale-ish. It’s not a perfect life. It never will be, but it’s a good life. A full life.


My mom holding her 2nd granddaughter, Taylor, moments after she was born (5/5/2009) with 1st granddaughter, Riley looking on.

You had so much more to give and live, but I know that you give and live in each breath I take and in actions that Brenda, Daddy, Riley, Taylor, and Bud do. You live in the way Taylor cocks her head to the side and smiles. She was only a few months old when you passed, but I swear your spirit is teaching her that head cock and smile. The impact you had and still have on Riley is inspiring and breathtaking. She knows you’re with her and guiding her. It’s the same for myself, Brenda & Daddy. Yes, we’d prefer you here in a physical being, but I’d rather have you in a spiritual being than not having you at all.

I miss you Mama and I love you as big as the sky and to the moon and back. I say “goodnight baby” to your dog Nick like would say to me every night. It’s not exactly the same of course, but it’s a piece of you I still have in my heart. It’s a piece I can give to Nick in your honor.

5 years later, I still Celebrate Lek. Not only on this day, but every day. Wherever you are right now Mama, I am giving you a giant bear hug that you would hate.

You will always be loved, remembered, and honored today and every day.