Jackpot

I have been missing my mom a lot lately, and certain things have been happening, that I will not divulge, that have made me feel the need to defend her and protect her memory. I feel as though she is not being respected, and a simple "nudging" to point that out was quickly shot down by what I feel is denial and desperation. So, I guess I feel the need to uphold her loyal, beautiful spirit and remember what an amazing person she was, even if others are making poor choices that she would not be comfortable with. Because of this, I have wanted to wear her things, and I would especially like something of hers for my wedding. Lately, I have been into wearing leggings with long shirts and sweaters, and I have really wanted to wear a retro, skinny belt, so I ransacked her closet to see if she had any circa-1982-belts hanging around anywhere. She did. Two of them: one brown, one tan...simple and neutral, just like me. Jackpot.

I stood there for a long time just looking at all of her stuff, not touching anything, and examining each piece of clothing and trying to picture her in them. Most of them were things she wore to work everyday, with a few "hang out" pieces like capris and jeans to fit her newly-shaped body, and some really fancy stuff like suits and dresses like the one she wore to my graduation. I quietly remembered her face, her body, her clothes, how she looked in them, special occasions celebrated in them. They looked so sad and forgotten, hanging there without her to care for them or pay attention to them. I felt really sad, and realized what a huge reminder her closet full of forgotten close was that she is really gone, and that she is never coming back.

Out of nowhere, I wanted to hug her so bad my chest hurt. And my shoulders. I started to breath heavy and get a little panicky, and I started to cry softly. Not a sad cry, but a quick, desperate cry. I put both of my arms out and in between her hanging clothes until my hands met. It felt like her. I put my head down near the hangers, and I cried so much, it felt like it was the day she died. I began to sob, so loud and so heavy I actually got lightheaded. I really miss her a lot. I do not understand why we had to be separated like this, and why she had to be so sick and so scared.

That is still the main thing I miss about her: being able to touch her. We were completely inseparable, and I was always touching her somehow. Hugging her or rubbing her back or pinching her cheeks or putting my arm around her. She was such a good sport, letting me mess with her all the time, especially when she was sick, but I knew she secretly loved it. We always sat as close as we could together until we were practically on top of each other. I remember a couple years ago giving her a hug in the line at the grocery store. The woman at the check-out said she wished her daughter hugged her like that, and mom laughed, but not in a way to brag, and said that we acted like that all the time, but that our kind of relationship was rare. The woman told us we were very lucky, which I already knew. I asked her if she wanted a hug jokingly, but she actually said yes and began to walk out from behind the cash register, so I gave her a hug.

I want to hug my mom so bad it feels like sometimes I might actually die.

Her clothes brought back so many memories and so many thoughts of her, happy and well, not sick, just being herself. I was careful not to cry my tears all over her clothes because I know how particular she was about things being clean and fresh. Even though she is not here to wear them, I didn't want to do anything I thought might make her uncomfortable. I do not want her to be uncomfortable for any reason at all, especially now that she is in Heaven and away from me. I won't let her be disrespected or pushed aside. She was my best friend, and I will always remain loyal and stick by her side no matter what.

I am excited to wear her belts. I hope she doesn't mind that I took them.