The Other Girl

She was 25 when she lost her mother.


I met my future husband when I was 25. Two years later, I bought a house. Two years after that, I bought another house. I was proposed to when I was 29. I got married at 30. I was pregnant shortly after.

I was lucky to experience a lot in the 6 years from the ages of 25-31. And I got to do and experience all of those things with my mother in my life.

And my sister won’t. And this breaks my heart. She won’t know the joy of telling her mom about the man she met that she will eventually marry. She won’t have her mom there to help her decorate her first house. She won’t have the experience of walking down the aisle and looking to her mother standing in the first pew.

She won’t know how amazing it was to tell her mother that she’s pregnant.

This is what keeps me up at night. As much as I need to write this website for my daughter about her grandmother, I need to write it for my sister about her mother.

And I need to be that woman. That woman who is no longer here. For my daughter. For my sister.

I have big shoes to fill; that’s for sure. And I second guess and worry that I’m not living up to the legend. Not doing it right.

But I keep on going. For Leah.  And for Adriana.

 
 

Happy Birthday, Mom.  I hope you're dancing.  Wherever you are.

 

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