Mother’s Day was a very interesting day for me. I felt torn between so many emotions. It was not a bad day, at all, just full. We started off by making breakfast for Danita (my step-mom). No not the wicked kind. Blueberry pancakes, eggs, bacon, and mimosas with flat, 3-year old champagne. I had got her a pretty little perfume bottle (she collects them) from the same store in Galveston that Floyd and I had got one for Mother’s Day last year. I thought she would appreciate that. She teared up a little bit and while I think she had an okay day, I know it was hard on her.

She went to see Floyd by herself and I’m sure that helped her a little bit. Although, sometimes people say things because they are trying to accomodate you and not themselves. So while she told my Dad that she wanted to go by herself, I feel like she may have liked it if all of us had gone together. It’s hard to tell sometimes with Danita but that only tells me one thing. I need to get to know her better. Would be easier if we lived closer, I know. BUT….Danita, if you’re reading this, hopefully next time you have an all girls trip, you will send an invite my way.

Next, my mother, Richard, Ritchie and Ryan all drove out from San Antonio to come to the gravesite for Mother’s Day. I thought it was going to be the roughest part of my day. It was far from it. My mom had written a beautiful prayer that she read along with some other poems that she found on the internet. I am so proud of her. She has been inspiring me since I got into town. I thought that I needed to come to Texas to help my family. That I was the strong one that could offer them what they needed. Turns out, they are helping me more than ever.

I had a dream about my brother before I had decided to come back to Texas and he said “hey, mom is trying to call you”. I thought it meant that I now had a mission to come here to help my mother. She has found her own light and she is spreading love. Not hate, not selfishness, just love and beauty and I thank her for that. Spirituality is really helping her move on. She has even invited someone to her church who has recently lost someone and there is no doubt in my mind that it won’t help them heal. I think she has a lot to offer the world in these respects and am anxious to see where it takes her. I am also very intrigued to learn more and I remain open. I think my brother wanted me to listen to what she had to say.

We are going to meet my biological father sometime this week. I wish I could tell my Dad, but I’m embarrassed or ashamed or something. I can’t quite figure it out. Maybe he will read this so I don’t have to and post a comment. More on this topic to come.

Another set of emotions was that of Nate having lost his mother (being able to help me so selflessly) but feeling torn to pieces by his own emotions. I wish I could have given you a hug and I hope our talks as well as those of other’s who care about you, helped ease your pain. Even if it was just for a moment. I know Betsy will be happy too. Just as soon as she has her brother back! You guys need eachother. You never should have left her in the first place, but I am eternally grateful that you did. Otherwise, I would not have my Baby.

As we all know, the pain of losing a loved one will never ever go away. We just learn how to deal with it better. Our minds somehow adjust so that we are capable of maintaining our normal lives as we are eaten alive by our thoughts and emotions. We need to have an outlet. I still haven’t found the best one for me, but there are a few things that help. Writing my personal feelings for the world to see is one of them. Praying is another. I have many goals to set forth on upon my return. Trying something new AT LEAST once a month, is one of them.

This blog post may not have any structure. It may seem rambled upon. Maybe a little abstract. Maybe the words I use or don’t are inapropriate and don’t make any sense? Well, folks….that is just how my mind works. I have been trying too hard on here to structurize everything I write. It makes sense once I’m done but it just takes to long. I like freely writing, which to me, means rambling. It’s alot easier to go to the next thought before I forget it and I have a terrible memory. So, should you think I sound frantic, like I’m rambling away or should you think my sentences and paragraphs are running together and there is no sense to be made anywhere? There probably isn’t. So stop reading.