One year on

It's been one year exactly since my mom died suddenly of a heart attack. I have many things going through my head, but what I'm trying to keep out of my thoughts is my mom because the second I think of her, I get teary and start crying. I'm not ready for that, still. I miss her very much. I miss her even more because there are so many baby related questions I want to ask, but I'll never get to hear from her. I know my dad knows some of the answers, but not all. Nothing can replace a mom and her knowledge. I just want my mom!

24 hours later

It's only 24 hours* later and my whole world feels like it has come crashing down. I went to work today, because I couldn't stand the thought of sitting at home doing nothing. So, I worked and I only cried twice and teared up a couple of times.

Some of my mom's knitting.

My thoughts are jumping around in my head, racing from one thing to the next. I can't seem to focus on anyone thing. All I want is my mom! I'm supposed to start thinking of things for her obituary. What does one write in an obit? I'm too young to be doing this. My mom was too young to die.

I am so thankful for my family in the US. Especially my step-mom. We've had our differences and trying times in the past, but I do love her and I am so very thankful she is here for me, my sister and brother right now. (And my dad and little bro.) I've talked to everyone in my immediate family. We're discussing what needs to be done, because it just has to be done.

I've sent in my signature on a self-written letter saying I authorize my mom's cremation. It's what she wanted and it's what I would want for myself. So this was not a hard thing to do. It's not the cold body that I need, it's my mom, alive and well. I'll have to do with my sister, brother, dad, step-mom and little youngest bro (lol, he's taller than any of us).

We're going to have a celebration of her life. She doesn't want a funeral. Again, that is totally fine with me. I want to remember her in the good times and with everyone crying happy tears.

Hubby and I will be flying out Thursday morning. It's going to be one hell of a flight (3 of them actually).

24 hours ago...

*Ok, so it is more than 24 hours now when I found out my mom had died. But I started thinking about this post right around the 24 hour marker.

My mom is dead

I got the dreaded call this evening (morning in the US) that my mom died of a heart attack today. I'm in shock, hurting, crying and in pain. I miss my mom! I'll never get to talk to her again! She will never get to meet any of my children. We won't get to go to Scotland together. No more knitted items from her. No more Skype calls with us sharing links of knitting stuff we like. She was too young to die. I'll never get to do anything with her again. I want my mom back!

RIP Sabby

There are several things on my mind tonight, but I'll only briefly mention them so I can post about the most pressing item on my mind: Sabby's passing.

- It's really really late (after 1am when I stared this) and I really should be in bed, but I need to get these thoughts out of my head.
- Tomorrow we have our first new home meeting and get to meet our new neighbors.
- Work is a bit stressful right now and I just wish it would go away, but it won't, at least not any time soon.

Sabby was my kitty for almost 19 years. Even though I've lived in Finland for the last 12 years and away from my mom's home for a couple of years before that, Sabby has always been mine (especially when she was in a witchy mood).

When I was 16, we had just moved to a new house across town. It was a place where we could finally have a pet that wasn't in a cage. And I wanted a black cat! At this point in my life, I was very much interested in Wicca and Pagan ways. And all witches are supposed to have a (black) cat as a familiar. *cheeky grin* We went to the local shelter and looked at kittens. We almost left without a kitten because I didn't see any black ones. But just as we were on our way out, I saw this itty bitty black thing in with some others. I wanted her immediately. Even if she did have dragon breath and worse yet, the breath of death! Yes, her breath was horrible! She would lick herself and her saliva would glue her fur in place. (Girls who used tons of hair spray back then would have been envious of this.) Her death-breath stayed with her for sometime, but thankfully she out grew it and was able to cleanly lick her fur.

As for her name, that wasn't easy to come by. What do you name a black cat? I asked her if she wanted to be called Blackie? I got a blank stare. Midnight? Another blank stare. Shadow? More staring. All of a sudden, it came to me: Black Sabbath? She gave me a wink and a chirrup and that's what she has been called ever since. Although, we've always called her Sabby for short. She wouldn't have just any ol' name, not this girl.

She had personality oozing from her. She would sleep under the covers with my sister, had a love-hate (although more love) with my brother and would hang out with me in my room. She knew whose window ledge to hop up on (mom's) to meow at to be let in. Or if it was late at night and my mom was still awake, she'd scratch on the window by the front door. She scratched that place so often and for so long, there were scratch marks in the glass. I talked to Sabby, she was my sanity at times. She even helped me paint my bedroom door. Ok, she didn't really help, but more got in the way, so I painted her toe nails red and purple. (I guess it wasn't the possibly toxins from acrylic paints that killed her, eh?) One time, I was petting her from head to tail. I would run my hand down her head, continue to along back and to the tip of her tail where my hand would stop at the ending position so Sabby had to turn around to repeat the petting process. After a couple of times of this she got fed up and bit me on the nose!

I'll miss her pissy old lady whine. But after living for almost 19 years, she definitely earned her right to talk as she please and act how ever she wanted.
I'll miss you Sabby!

My last picture of Sabby - Sept. 2010