Everything and Nothing

Maybe you've noticed that it's been a couple of days since I posted anything new. It's because of everything and nothing. Too much and not enough.

I am still trying to find my way without my mom, and oh boy, I'm having a hard time. Yet I'm not. It's so hard to explain; I'm fine, but I'm not fine. On the whole, I'm doing fine. It's just the millions of little things that get to me now, and perhaps always will. Even now, just writing that sentence I can feel my eyes welling up, wanting to leak memories and feelings all over my cheeks.

Day to day, I'm fine. It's those rare quiet moments where everything floods over me.

Remembering the thousands of ways she showed her love to her family. Remembering the way she used to do or say things. Remembering her laugh, her sarcastic sense of humor, her love of word puzzles, how she was trying to convert a non-computer user to using a computer until very recently, remembering how proud she was of her family and her love of shoes. The thousands (millions?) of things that made my mom my mom.

I'm already missing the foods that, while I know how to make them, my versions don't taste like hers. Everyone in my family has their favorite food that my mom made. For my daughter, her favorite was my mom's barbecued hamburgers and potato salad. My barbecued hamburgers are pretty good, and my potato salad is okay. They will never be as good as my mom's.

My husband loved my mom's apple pie. Again, my apple pie is good, and I never have to toss any part of it away, but it's definitely not my mom's.

My mom used to make puffs. Not cream puffs, but this dessert was called puff pastry, and it was delicious. It was one of those things people used to ask my mom to bring. I've made them a few times through the years, but again, they weren't my mom's.

I'm talking about the foods she used to make because really I'm avoiding talking about missing her. Not missing what she made, or missing what she did, but just sitting with her, talking to her, laughing with her, having coffee with her. Those days are truly behind me, and I can't fully bring myself to think about it. I won't ever hear her say, “oh Lou Ann, that was clever” after I made some joke. I won't hear my kids exclaim, “UMMA!” like they used to when she would come in.

How she would call me and say, “I have a big big BIG favor” then follow it up with “I'm always asking for something” and a little chuckle. And it never was a big favor. It was usually something like “will you bring me ____” or “I'd like to go shopping”.

I look around my house, and there are literally hundreds of things that remind me of my mom. But that's nothing compared to the billions of things inside my head all colliding into each other. One day they will get sorted, I'm sure. But I'm also sure it will be a long time before that happens. How do you organize billions of anything?