There aren't to many firsts left as the one year anniversary of my mother's death approaches. Really, only just two important firsts are left...my birthday and the birth of my first grandchild (and mother's first great grandchild). My daddy is over the moon excited at the thought of a little one. He's so cute when he talks about things like needing to buy a car seat so he can take the baby places with him. Be still my heart!
I was fortunate enough to have known all four of my great grandmothers and two of my great grandfathers. And, completely blessed to have had all four of my grandparents until I was 36. Recently it occurred to me that in the last 10 years all four of my grandparents, my uncle (my mother's brother) and my mother have passed. That is a lot of people I love to leave us in such a short amount of time. However, I am thankful to have had them for as long as I did. So many don't get that.
In these last days of preparation before my granddaughter gets here I have really, really been missing my mother. It's hard to put into words other than to say I'm about to enter a new phase in life in which I know nothing. I will be a grandmother. I want to ask her what I'm supposed to do. I know what to do but there have been so many times lately that I want to ask her questions or tell her how a doctor visit went. The baby tea was a couple of weeks ago. That was the first big, non-holiday related event that has taken place since her death. I wanted so much for her to be there. I am reminded daily that she is everywhere and always with me. However, my selfish heart wants to actually look at her and touch her. Hear her voice (even though her voice would irritate me sometimes). I chuckle now with a melancholy sigh about welcoming the opportunity to fight with her or at least have a disagreement with her. The smallest, most insignificant things are now the things I long to have with her.
I decided to pull out a box of baby clothes I had saved and go through them. Looking to see if there was anything I could use for the grand baby. There were so many cute things I had forgotten about. And, as I pulled things from the box four tiny outfits stopped me in my tracks. I stood frozen for what felt like an eternity processing what I was looking at and remembering what they were and to whom they originally belonged. Four tiny little outfits that my mother had put on me 47 years ago and that I put on my daughter 20 years later. Four little outfits that will most likely fit my granddaughter when she arrives. In that moment, I realized that three generations will have worn these dainty little clothes. They are a little less bright than they were 47 or even 27 years ago but I will put them on my granddaughter, if for no other reason than, to take a photo. When this realization hit me the tears began to flow and the loss of my mother was as painful as the day she passed. All I could think was "she won't get to see sweet Anna Kate in these precious clothes. The same clothes her sweet baby girl wore in 1971."
Everything is clean and put away. All washed in Dreft because that's what my mother would have told me to use. Even though I already knew it. Now, we just patiently wait for our sweet granddaughter, Anna Kate's arrival.
There aren't to many firsts left as the one year anniversary of my mother's death approaches. Really, only just two important firsts are left...my birthday and the birth of my first grandchild (and mother's first great grandchild). My daddy is over the moon excited at the thought of a little one. He's so cute when he talks about things like needing to buy a car seat so he can take the baby places with him. Be still my heart!
I was fortunate enough to have known all four of my great grandmothers and two of my great grandfathers. And, completely blessed to have had all four of my grandparents until I was 36. Recently it occurred to me that in the last 10 years all four of my grandparents, my uncle (my mother's brother) and my mother have passed. That is a lot of people I love to leave us in such a short amount of time. However, I am thankful to have had them for as long as I did. So many don't get that. 
In these last days of preparation before my granddaughter gets here I have really, really been missing my mother. It's hard to put into words other than to say I'm about to enter a new phase in life in which I know nothing. I will be a grandmother. I want to ask her what I'm supposed to do. I know what to do but there have been so many times lately that I want to ask her questions or tell her how a doctor visit went. The baby tea was a couple of weeks ago. That was the first big, non-holiday related event that has taken place since her death. I wanted so much for her to be there. I am reminded daily that she is everywhere and always with me. However, my selfish heart wants to actually look at her and touch her. Hear her voice (even though her voice would irritate me sometimes). I chuckle now with a melancholy sigh about welcoming the opportunity to fight with her or at least have a disagreement with her. The smallest, most insignificant things are now the things I long to have with her. 
I decided to pull out a box of baby clothes I had saved and go through them. Looking to see if there was anything I could use for the grand baby. There were so many cute things I had forgotten about. And, as I pulled things from the box four tiny outfits stopped me in my tracks. I stood frozen for what felt like an eternity processing what I was looking at and remembering what they were and to whom they originally belonged. Four tiny little outfits that my mother had put on me 47 years ago and that I put on my daughter 20 years later. Four little outfits that will most likely fit my granddaughter when she arrives. In that moment, I realized that three generations will have worn these dainty little clothes. They are a little less bright than they were 47 or even 27 years ago but I will put them on my granddaughter, if for no other reason than, to take a photo. When this realization hit me the tears began to flow and the loss of my mother was as painful as the day she passed. All I could think was "she won't get to see sweet Anna Kate in these precious clothes. The same clothes her sweet baby girl wore in 1971." 
