To everyone else, this just appears to be a picture of the inside of a building. But to me, I can still see my mom's blonde hair speed walking across one of those hallway balconies and walking down those steps with a big old grin on her face to come meet me when I was finished with class or when we were picking her up from work, and later when I had just gotten off the airplane from Florida after months of not seeing her. She was happy and healthy, and whether it had been a day since I had seen her or 6 months, her face always lit up as she walked toward me as she'd greet me by saying "Noella Bella!" (prolonged emphasis on the Ls).
Her face still lights up this way when she sees me, but it is no longer the face of someone who remembers the accomplishments, heartbreaks and roadbumps of my 27 years...this new but familiar face doesn't even remember that I'm 27. On most days, it's enough that her face still just lights up when she sees me. When this all first started, my biggest fear was that my mom would forget who I was. I remember talking to our amazing family friend when I was still trying to decide if returning to Florida was the right thing to do, because I didn't want my mom to forget that she had told me I needed to go back and then to think I had abandoned her. And I didn't want to be gone long enough for her to forget me. Our friend told me that loving Neal and me is in my mom's DNA, and that she may continue to forget a lot, but she will never forget that she wants what's best for us and she wants us to be happy.
I told one of my friends yesterday that I understand and know what's going to eventually happen with this stupid monster that has invaded my mom's brain. She got a sad look on her face and asked me if I really do, and the fact that the sad look didn't go away tells me that she knows I really don't. Sometimes I feel like I can't even look most people in the eye anymore because I'm afraid they'll see right through me--but a few people already do. I realized last night, after I got home from running around with a soccer ball outside while A-Woww climbed a mountain that was actually a very small hill and thought she saw a comet in the sky which was actually an airplane, that I have not yet fully processed that the old version of my mom is never coming back. The version that would have been right out there with me, and that I would have had a hard time keeping up with. The version that, as I was thinking how nice it'd be to go back to Dunedin/Clearwater where my Grandma lived, would have said we should just get in the car and go. My Grandma may not live there anymore so we really have no ties there besides memories...but hell, it'd be an adventure. The last time we were there to get some things from her condo, Jazazzle had toyed with the idea of trying to buy it herself. There were so many memories there, and leaving that beautiful place behind seemed crazy. I remember driving along that causeway for the last time...my then-boyfriend and I were in my car and my mom and brother were driving behind us. My mom said that was the first time it had all really hit her, and she got choked up as she looked around at the beautiful place that had been a second home to us for so many years. That bridge over the causeway that separated one piece of land from another also suddenly separated my mom from her mom, and it finally sunk in that she was really gone. She said when she came back to visit me in Orlando, we may have to take a trip back there because of all that it represented for us. She made it seem so easy....as if driving back across that bridge would have put us right back where we were, arguing back and forth with my Grandma about things that I can't even remember now. If only it were as easy to go back to a time as it is to go back to a place...because the place just happened to be a b-e-a-utiful location that hosted all those crazy-good memories that I hope to never forget....
All those late night "illegal" swims in the pool.
All those late night "illegal" swims in the pool.
All those walks along the marina...especially the late night walks, when my grandma would put the hurricane shutter down after she promised she wouldn't.
All those dolphin sightings and amazing sunsets off the clubhouse deck and pier.
The time my mom and I got a blow-up boat and paddled out to one of the islands and met Captain Jim, who apparently "lived" on said island and who informed us that if we had arrived just 30 minutes earlier, we would have caught him sunbathing in the buff. Captain Jim gave us some great insight on all the different ways you could eat ramen noodles when living on an island. He also towed us back into the marina because paddling against the wind turned out to be counter-productive and we didn't get very far.
The time a seagull shat upon my head and my mom laughed and laughed and insisted it was good luck. 2 years later when it happened to her, she found it slightly less amusing.
So much has changed since those days, but at the same time, it feels like it was just yesterday. Memories like these are bittersweet, but I hope they'll be as vivid in my mind as they are right now forever. I know my Grandma and I didn't always see eye to eye, especially toward the end. But I will be forever grateful for the memories I would not have with my mom if it weren't for her. Because I think it was in those moments--where Jazazzle and I spent a lot of time together, just the two of us--that I got to learn who my mom really is, and why she is that person. I would see the relationship between her and my Grandma, and feel so thankful that someone who was raised by a mom who unfortunately never seemed to know how to give unconditional love and acceptance can show my brother and me, every day of our lives from the second we wake up until we close our eyes to go to sleep, so much love.
