Has it really been that long?

Saturday marked eight years since my mom has passed away. I had a very busy day and night due to the Anna Foundation Auction I help plan, which kept my mind occupied. April 2nd has changed throughout the years. The first year my family drove down to Mike's college to visit and let off balloons in the air. The second year, we got together just to be together. After that, it has become more personal. Some of us do things, others don't. We are all aware, but we are all so different and have different ways of healing. For many years, I chose to watch a movie my sister had made in college which my mom has a lengthily interview in. This year I know with my hormones... I cannot handle it. April 2nd is not a day when I like to sit around, wallow or cry. I'm not a person who likes to go back to the past in my mind too often. I usually like to move forward quickly and think positively. I typically see little benefit in going back and replaying those early moments. Again, this is just a personal choice I have made. I don't think there is anything wrong with crying or being sad. I am sometimes. But, this day.... just can't do it... It keeps me afloat to be positive. The night I lost my mom was and still is like a movie in my mind. Like a bad lifetime movie that you want to turn off, but you can't. When I allow myself to go back to that night, I still can't believe I lived through it. Last night we got back from the auction around midnight and I laid down and attempted to get some sleep. (knowing that Will would be up soon) All the details of the day and the auction were filtering through my mind and I was trying to relax. Then, out of the blue... I thought "my gosh it is April 2nd". I knew it was the whole day, but the true meaning had escaped me. I felt a pang of guilt at first, then quickly realized how amazing that was. It is amazing to think that eight years ago, I thought my life was over. I truly believed I would not go on breathing. I can vividly remember my hearing being fuzzy. People's mouths would move, but I heard voices that sounded like the mom from Charlie Brown. I remember reminding myself to breath in and out constantly and feeling my heart stop every so often. I can remember driving back from the hospital, after having a very hard time leaving, and seeing the people around me in their cars. I remember thinking, how are they smiling?, how are they laughing?, do they know what has happened to me and my family??? It is crazy to think about that now. Knowing what I know now about greif. I know now that I was in shock for a very long time. I was functioning, but only phsyically. It took a long time to come to terms with her death and to see anything positive that could possibly come from it. Eight years ago I was twenty two. I lived in MD. I was in my senior year of college and was student teaching in a fourth grade classroom. I was dating Jon, but we had breifly discussed our future in a serious way. I was president of my sorority and a senator for the student government. I lived in a house full of girls. I was recently back from an amazing spring break trip. I was close with and loved my family. I would call my mom so often, that I was made fun of for it. I believed in God, but did not think of Him often. Ignorance was bliss and I was living a "blessed" life. I was in the prime of my life. I had tons of friends, fun and endless dreams! I had a plan. I was going to graduate, teach young children, marry (I hoped Jon), become a stay at home mommy, have four children, buy a yellow victorian with a pond and be happy. My mom was in all of those plans. She would be there on my wedding day, my baby showers, at the births of my children, we'd vacation as a big happy family, have bbq's and just be... simply be happy and together. Well, God had a very different plan. I am now thirty years old. I live in NJ. I married Jon!! I did teach and I am now a stay at home mom. I have two children and one on the way. I live in a grey colonial (with blue and yellow accents) and we have a pool. Pretty darn close if you ask me. However, life is different. I am different. From the surface, all is swell. Underneath, only God can fill the void I feel on a daily basis. There are amazing and supportive people in my life and I am thankful for them all. However, you can't replace your mom. For me, that is hard. I often see girls shopping with their moms or walking, doing simple every day tasks together. Every time, it catches my breath slightly. I yern for that. I miss that very much. I know that I will have that with my children one day, I will make sure of it. However, it is what it is. God knows why He has chosen this life for me. I know I will find out the fine details of His plan later. In the meantime, I look for and seek the positive outcomes from this experience. I feel lucky to have seen a few already. I have personally gained a relationship with God and a real awareness of the short time we have here on earth. This to me, is priceless. I have compassion in my heart for others that was greatly enhanced by my experience. I know that the person in line next to me or in the car next to me, could be having the worst day of their life. Every time an ambulance passes, I think "wow, someone's life could be changing right now." I know how important it is to be there for people during hard times. Especially later when the crowds are gone. I love my family with all my heart and I try not to take anything too seriously. I kiss my kids hundreds of times a day and tell my husband I love him as much as possible. I end arguments with Jon very quickly and have a voicemail or two of his in my phone at all times. I have been able to help a handful of people through their losses and hope to be there for more. Obviously, I would have preferred MY plan. My plan was painless. My plan was easy. My plan did not require me to stretch or change. His plan is painful, hard and ever changing. However, along with that... His plan is joyful, amazing, unexpected and blessed. I feel lucky to be alive and well. I feel lucky to have a family and friends who loves me. I feel lucky to have hope. For now, that is enough for me.