Today I am remembering you.
On Feb 18th it will be eight years since you passed. I don’t feel sad today. The sun is shining. I want to celebrate you.
Glad I knew you this lifetime.
I know we will meet again on another go around, but today I want to celebrate you as Mom and also your friendship…..
You were a first time Mom of 26. You didn’t know you were having twins until I was born and the shocked doctor said ” Mrs. Brownstone, there is another one on the way.” Crazy.
I could only image how overwhelming that was in the early days of having us. You couldn’t hold us. The doctor said it wasn’t okay to hold us premies. 7 weeks early both being under 4 pounds each. No fair. 4 weeks in the hospital. Then when you brought us home there was a mean nurse who wouldn’t let you hold us for another 3 weeks. That was wrong. So wrong. Twins need to be held or at least touched by their parents so they can bond. We bonded later.
I remember you picking us up from Shoesmith after school….talking about our days.
Thank you for making sure we went to Phoenix, a parent run alternative school. I learned how to read there from Pat Keig. You remember teachers who teach you to read at nine. I remember the nightly eye exercises with the string and green ball to try to focus my eyes. Seeing double is no joke.
I remember you and Dad reading bedtime stories and your backrubs. Laura and I shared a bed room in Chicago. We pushed our two beds together. Caty our little sister slept in the crack some nights. She didn’t want to be left out. Love you Caty and Laura.
I remember you coming to my gymnastic meets, spotting me in our carpetted living room to do backflips from a standing position. Thanks for your strength and patience. You understood when I needed a day off from school because of anxiety from competeing. You let me sleep it off. I had a hard time going to Junior high. The bullying in 7th and 8th grade was brutal. Thank you for being there for me and getting professional help for me.
I remember you coming to my performances and cheering me on.
I remember the day John Lennon died. We were both home for the day. We both cried. We played and sang Beatles songs. We sang until we started laughing. I miss your laughter. I miss your voice.
The other day I remembered meeting you in downtown Akron with my sisters for cokes and bowling. We did that once a week. It made being in Akron better.
I remember our poltical talks around the white round dining room table as a family. We had alot of family dinners. We would discuss current events, politics, during Reagan’s time in office. I remember thinking that you were very smart. You knew alot. You also listened to us kids give our opinions.
I remember canvassing in the rain with you in the 80s trying to register people to vote. People back then said” My vote doesn’t matter.” You taught me that votes do matter.
I remember the day you and Dad told us your were separating. You intiated the separation but both of you weren’t happy for along time. It takes courahe to leave and start a new life. You showed me how to do that.
Talking with you about maybe going to Israel for a year study abroad when I was 21. I climbed into bed with you and we weighed the pros and cons together. You also helped me picked up the pieces of myself when I returned.
Later you came to my wedding at Foster Beach. You let me learn from that lesson.
I remember you as the best Grandma devoted to: Rose, Anna and Miranda.
I remember your courage volunteering for the Obama campaign, answering phones trying to be civil with angry callers. You were on the frontlines with other grandmas.
I remember traveling with you to Paris and Greece and to the Obama innaguration in 2009. Huddling around George and his wife. There were 20 of us listening to Obama on the radio outside crying and laughing together. We had tickets to the blue gate but we couldn’t get in. Our experience was still special. We were together being a part of history.
I remember you getting sick with ALS. You lost your voice first, then eating, then walking. I am glad I could be there for you that last year. I got to know you and like you.
All the old hurts didn’t matter. You told me when you still had you voice ” Eve I want you to really love yourself my dear. I want you to get this.” I do Mom.
Eight years later, I am remember alot of the goodtimes..thankyou Mom.