I lost my parents a long time ago, my mom when I was 20 and my dad when I was 23. My mom, I was half way through my second year of college, my dad I was newly engaged. A time which should have been filled with excitement and looking towards the future was clouded with grief and hurt. Time has passed and lessened the pain. The pain isn’t as sharp. It no longer catches my breathe. Time has eased the lump in the back of my throat. Milestone moments of my life and my children’s’ lives, my family and friends have corralled around me and safe guarded me from the pain. Nathan & I’s wedding, our children’s’ births, figuring out being a wife, figuring out how to be a mom, birthday parties. Milestone moments. The unsaid words someone should be there are never said. Many times I have cried to Nate or yelled in anger, “I just need a mom!” A mom to help me. A mom I don’t feel like I am a burden to when I do need help.
But then there are the moments you are not prepared for. The moments where it catches your breathe. The moments you were not expecting and it just happens. My mom loved flowers, every morning she would walk the yard in her pj’s and house coat looking at each and every flower bed. Saying good morning to each and every flower. My mom was pretty awesome. Spring time comes and I safe guard by heart knowing what could have been but isn’t. Instead of dwelling in the sadness I have chosen to share my mom’s love of flowers with my children. I try so hard not to think about “what would it be like” because it isn’t and it won’t be. But then it comes out of the blue and hits you like a ton of bricks. Everett asked if he could pick out flowers for his own flower garden. I walked to the back of the green house with him and Vivian. Everett started to examine each and every flower. Whispering to the flowers or to himself. I couldn’t breath. A lump started to form in an instant. I wanted to freeze time. I wanted to time travel. I wanted my mom to share this with me. When Everett was finished, he proudly carried his box of treasure to the front. We shared his joy with the cashier. 
Raising a Farmer 
This is such an openly honest and touching post. Nice one Brenda!
I always enjoy your blogs, and this one has made me cry. I did not know about both your parents but I do know they would be proud of the person you have become. It is amazing how are loved ones find away to let us know they are watching. Everett talking to the flowers will be a memory to treasure. Sending hugs!
You are too much! I can usually do pretty good with your blogs, not this one. Tears are pretty plentiful.Love you!
From: Raising a Farmer To: granny.food@yahoo.com Sent: Wednesday, July 6, 2016 5:24 PM Subject: [New post] Grief is Strange #yiv1017914235 a:hover {color:red;}#yiv1017914235 a {text-decoration:none;color:#0088cc;}#yiv1017914235 a.yiv1017914235primaryactionlink:link, #yiv1017914235 a.yiv1017914235primaryactionlink:visited {background-color:#2585B2;color:#fff;}#yiv1017914235 a.yiv1017914235primaryactionlink:hover, #yiv1017914235 a.yiv1017914235primaryactionlink:active {background-color:#11729E;color:#fff;}#yiv1017914235 WordPress.com | raisingafarmer posted: “I lost my parents a long time ago, my mom when I was 20 and my dad when I was 23. My mom, I was half way through my second year of college, my dad I was newly engaged. A time which should have been filled with excitement and looking towards the future w” | |