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Trip To Chicago


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I own a retail store and my mother was like my business partner. We sell antiques and home decor and we also have a boutique that sells jewelry, purses, scarves, etc. My mom and I used to go to Chicago four times a year for the merchandise shows. For the last 5 years we've gone with one of my mom's friends who also has a store. A month and a half before my mom died, we had planned to go to the fall show in Chicago. My mom loved going to the city with us, but at this point, she was so sick and weak. The doctor advised that she didn't go. But she packed some comfortable clothes and some flat shoes instead of her heals. She was bound and determined to go on this trip. Cancer was not going to stop her from doing what she wanted...at least not completely.

After three hours of viewing new products, mom got very tired. The hat she was wearing started to make her hot, so she took it off. There she was...amongst all these women who had their hair done so nicely...sitting on a bench with her bald head exposed. I was embarrassed at first. I went over and told her to put her hat on becuase she was making people uncomfortable. "Uncomfortable!" she said. "How do you think I feel with this tumor in my head! Besides, this hat is driving me nuts!" At that moment I realized that I had no right to be embarrassed. I helped my mom back to the hotel room so she could nap. On the way there I noticed that she was becoming more fatigued, so I offered to carry her purse. Normally I would have been so embarrassed to carry a purse around, but this time I proudly slung it over my shoulder and my mom laughed as we walked arm in arm back to the room.

As I got ready to go this show, I wondered what it would be like without my mom. Her friend and I took the train up there, and we laughed and cried as we told stories about mom. It was a difficult weekend, but also healing. I still wish my mom had been there with me. She had a soft spot for "baby products." Everytime I saw showrooms that carried baby lines, I thought, "Oh! I have to show mom this!" Then I would remember that she's dead.

It's so weird because everyday I still think of things that I need to tell her. Or something will happen at school and I'll think, "mom is gonna crack up when I tell her this!" I suppose that goes away with time. People still stop me and ask how she's doing. Then I have to relive her death all over again. That happened to me twice yesterday. And I still get cards for her, and people still call and leave messages. The dog still waits at the door after I come home and whines. It's just so hard to move on. I can't even put her clean clothes away. They've sat at the foot of my bed in a basket for three and a half weeks. It just seems like she should come in and say, "Hey, put those clothes away!"

Edited by drew
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Drew, I know what you mean about thinking about something you need to tell your mom. I do that every day. I used to call her every day on my way home from work (she lived 100 miles away from me) and we would talk about how we spent our day. I still feel like I should pick up the phone and call her.

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I still think, "Oh, mom would have loved this!" when I'm in stores or watching a tv program. It takes a long, long time to get over feeling like they are "coming back", so to speak. I still can't throw out a lot of things of my moms, like I still think she might need them...crazy! But normal. I talk to her all the time, asking her what she thinks about things that are going on in my life. I sure wish she could answer me! It's just not wanting to let her go and that's just a testament of the love we had for them.



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It's just so hard to move on. I can't even put her clean clothes away. They've sat at the foot of my bed in a basket for three and a half weeks. It just seems like she should come in and say, "Hey, put those clothes away!"

Drew: I know what you mean. I found a necklace in my mom's jewelry box. Its a heart locket with a horseshoe inside. I decided to wear it because I was hoping it would bring me luck.

Then one day, I wondered if perhaps it had belonged to my grandmother. When I realized my mom was not here to ask, I lost it again. It just doesn't seem to take much.

Hugging you!


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