Normalcy

I still remember the call as if it happened last night. The phone rang and the voice on the other end said "How are you doing baby boy?". Mom wanted to know how Elena and the kids were doing and remind us to hunker down as we were in the midst of a series of thunderstorms. We laughed together as Mom made a few wisecracks, and as always, said that we would talk to each other later. We didn't say "Luv Ya" because we both knew that there would be time for that during one of our next phone calls. Not to be. Four months later, I am still asking myself "How are you doing?" How are we all doing? The Summer of Discontent has now set and Fall is upon us. As have most of us, I think about Mom on a daily basis, especially now as the cooler weather begins to move in. Fall and Winter were Mom's favorite times of the year. She would love to call each of the kids (Ross and Didi included) and quiz us about our plans for the cooler evenings. The conversations always included two questions: "What are you having for dinner?" and "Are you having a fire tonight?". It is hard getting used to not having to answer those questions on a daily basis. It has been four months since Mom's passing and I ask myself everyday "how are you doing?". We have all gotten back to our lives, but with me, life is still lacking normalcy. Everyday, something reminds me of mom and how much I miss her. Nate's first day of school or my first day of work, there was no phone call from her to see how it went. Jasmine and Emily's birthdays, there was no phone call from her proclaiming that "your mommy feels better today than she did so many years ago". Texas' comeback against Oklahoma State would have brought a bevy of calls from her. We go on with our day to day routine but with the expectation that those days will be lacking in some way. In these past four months we have all had to lean on someone, be it family or a friend to find some level of comfort and normalcy. For Elena, it has been her best friend Lisa, but for me personally, if it had not been for Ross and his daily phone calls, I would have been carted off to the rubber room factory for sure and for that I am eternally grateful.
In the grand scheme of things, Life goes on. It will. It is our job to go on with our lives but with the understanding that the memory of Mom will never dim. That she will always be there, cigarette in one hand, glass of wine in the other, laughing as we laugh, and saying to herself: "You done good Toni, you done good".