It has been over 4 months since Mom died.  Dad is settling in very nicely here in Port Washington.  He walks by the Marina at least once per day.  My sister-in-law, Diane walks with him almost every day.  He is a stronger walker at the end of the summer.  He enjoys seeing the fish being caught and the boats going in and out of the water.  This late in October the Marina is getting emptier everyday, boats are being loaded onto semis and trucked away to their winter home.  Baseball season is coming to a close.  The Cards will be playing the Dodgers next and Dad doesn't know which one to cheer for since they are both his favorites.  Is there life after baseball?  How can we last through the winter? 

Dad has tried pizza, tacos, zucchini soup, barbecue pork sandwiches and guess what?  He likes them! He tried one piece of asparagus-he didn't like that!  We have him hooked on weight watchers ice cream bars.  We found some bologna and summer sausage that is satisfactory.  He has survived without Anderson-Erickson milk.....

 I gave dad a Mom's list of family birthdays and some birthday cards.  Hopefully he will send some.  I know he needs to stay in touch with his family.

I still find myself wanting to pick up the phone and call Mom.  I still cannot understand what happened and spend time wondering why and if I should have done something different.  Well I will not get the answers to my questions in this life. 

You look just like your mother

When I was younger, people always said I looked like my mom did at that age. I did not start to see the resemblance until I was older and had kids of my own.  I do not look like her if you look at individual features. My eyes are not her eyes.  My nose is not like hers.  My smile was never as wide, my teeth are not the same.  And yet, people always recognized that I was Karen Scott's daughter because I looked like her.  My daughter looks like me too

I remember when I was 5 or 6 I thought mom was the most beautiful mom ever.  She was brave too.  She killed a skunk with a flashlight and a mouse with her broom.  She knew everything.

Mom married when she was 17 and I was born when she was 18.  She had 3 kids by the time she was 20.  When I was 18, I just wanted to be free and have fun.  She was only 18 years older than me so it seems to me now that in some ways we grew up together.  I can't believe she is gone at age 76.  I can't understand it.  It changes the timeline of my life.  It resets my expiration date.  It leaves me wanting to talk to her.

There will be no order to my writing, just random thoughts based on random memories.

I can't call my mom ever again

After a lovely, busy day I sit thinking that I should call my mom. It has been too long since we spoke.    She died on May 28, 2013.  I wasn't expecting it.  I still find it hard to understand.  I want to talk to her again.