What Love meant to me.
The girls all made a decision. Let's go to Braum's for lunch. Sounds like a good idea and off to Braum's we went. Now the girls were under the impression that Mom was untouchable and could get away with any and everything when it came to Jeff. Not exactly the case. Debbie was not big on trying new foods. I had a strawberry shake which she found quite disturbing. She kept threatening to put something in it. The girls found this very disturbing. Their mom was messing with his drink. That’s wrong! We would never get away with that. I kept telling her to do her worst. What no one noticed was my right hand was gripping the bottom of the cup and when her face came within an inch of the cup, I gave it a good squeeze. The strawberry liquid jumped out of the cup and covered her face from her chin to her glasses. The girls were in shock as was she. I looked at her and said, “Hey Debbie, how'd you like my shake?” The playing field had now been leveled. None of them ever again complained about my menu. In fact, I introduced them to all types of new food with great zeal.
I can't help but chuckle as I read the above and remember the look of utter surprise on all the girls faces;especially Debbie's. We had so much fun together. I think the beauty of our relationship was the ease we did everything together. Nothing was forced. Nothing was expected. It just happened. I think that's what love means to me.
Enjoy your partner with the time you have, for you never know when it will end.
In honor of he birthday, I've reduced the price to $3.77 on Smashwords and Amazon. It might take a day for Amazon to reflect the new price.
Jessica, Amanda and Debbie. Our last trip to Wylie,TX. What a great time we had!
After the funeral.They became my second set of girls.
A closing poem written by Amanda.
It’s been three years.
Time goes by so quickly, it seems like.
I remember when it was one day, one month, one year.
Sometimes I think about it.
Sometimes I try not to.
Sometimes it’s hard to forget.
Sometimes I wish I could.
I miss her more than anything.
I miss seeing her – hearing her voice.
I don’t remember what her voice sounds like.
In fact, I hardly remember anything.
I don’t remember the way she smelled,
Or the way she talked,
Or the way she loved.
I forget sometimes – that she’s gone.
I talk about her in present tense.
I think about how old she should be every year on her birthday.
It isn’t fair that she got to leave me.
It isn’t fair that I’m here alone.
It isn’t fair, is it?
How can it be?
How could she leave me?
Surely she didn’t mean to.
Surely she didn’t want to.
Did she want to leave me?
Did she want to make me feel this way?
Did she care?
Did she have a choice?
I bet she didn’t have a choice.
I didn’t either.
I think of the things that we should do –
That other girls get to do with their mothers.
I can’t do those things.
I can’t be like them.
I’m positive that she would’ve wanted us to do those things.
She would’ve wanted us to have that time together,
But we can’t now.
She won’t see me at prom.
She won’t see me on my wedding day.
She won’t see my husband or kids,
All because she’s gone.
She may be gone, but she’ll never be forgotten.
I love you, Mom.