Goodbye August

I know it seems strange to say goodbye to a month that has already slipped away, but I feel as though I still need this closure.

It was on August 9 that a very special lady left my life. Beverly left all of our lives for a better place. I'm not sure what that place is, but I know it's filled with the people she loved who died before her, especially her daughter and husband. My grandmother was more than a grandmother to me. She was like a mother, when my mother was too busy or too selfish to actually be my mother. It's why I called my grandmother Mom and it's why it felt unnatural to call my own mother, Mom. It was a title only reserved for one who loved me like a daughter. Growing up in her house, under her wings and there was no way I could call her anything but. Mom. She taught me the virtues of patience and generosity. She taught me that it's important to care for others because you want to, not because you feel you have to. She took me everywhere with her, introducing me to new experiences and new people. She bought me new clothes, got me new haircuts. She treated me to lunch whenever I went shopping with her. She talked to me and listened. She stood up for me, and she showed me she loved me without even having to tell me.

Not even a week after she died, I found out we were having a girl. We also had a scare that forced me to come to terms with the possibility of having a child with Down Syndrome. And I thought to myself- what would Mom do? How would she feel? The answer: She would accept it and move on. She would give birth to the child and give her all the tender, love and care she deserved. Fortunately the blood test came back negative, but even if it didn't, we would be okay.

I realized too that while she may not have the same spirit or soul, I am sure my daughter will embody some of the positive qualities my grandmother possessed. Why? Because my grandmother instilled those in me. I will pass them on to my daughter. My grandmother's spirit will live on in me and in my daughter.

So goodbye August. Usually your sounds and smells intoxicate me. Your beauty is enchanting, and I always want you to last forever. You are warm and inviting and peaceful. But this year you changed me. This year I hardly noticed your existence. I was bathed in too many tears and too many self-imposed distractions. Before I knew it, you were gone. Poof.

When you come to visit next year, may the new life I hold in my arms love you as I have and remind me that we can all still be as innocent and bright eyed as the Blue Moon on a late August night.

Happy Christmas, circa 2001

Proud. circa 1998

Mom, Ma and Dad. 1953

Mom, Aunt Sharon and me. circa 1978.