Growing family (wait no, not like that...)

Family has always been especially important to me. I'm relatively certain people can read it on my face when I speak of you or dad or Neal or our cousins and aunts and uncles. People make fun of me because of all the cousins that pop up in stories of my childhood and yesteryear. But truth be told, my cousins and other family members made up most of what I remember, in some form or another.

This past weekend, we were able to spend some time with Stormi's mom and dad and both of their families. 

I love them so much, and I'm certain you'd love them too. Actually, I'm pretty sure you handpicked not just the best person for me, but the best person with the best family (tied with ours) to boot. 

The pride her mom has for her and the way she beams at the incredible woman her daughter has become is something I'm no stranger to. You were so similar in your expression of love and the way you lived and put me and Neal at the very top of your list of life accomplishments. In many ways, it strengthens the bond between me and the baby hurricane, because we were both raised by very similar, hard working matriarchs with strong work ethics and a personality that everyone is drawn to. The relationships she has with not only Stormi but also Stormi's friends reminds me so much of you, too. She loves them, and she makes sure they know it. Not just because they are friends of her daughter, but for who they are as individuals. You loved our friends, and you loved just hanging out with them, whether it was on a boat on Raystown lake or sitting around your living room. It was so much more than just you wanting to know the people we were closest to; you cared about them so much. You invited them into your home and you showed them how lucky Neal and I were to be raised by such a cool mom, and how much you appreciated their places in our lives.

Stormi's family is such a special family, not unlike my own, and I feel so lucky to have been welcomed in by them. I never feel like an outsider, and they made the second holiday season without you so much more bearable. I know this would make you so happy and content, because while you've seen me moving forward and smiling and enjoying life, you've also seen me hunched over a few times, sobbing and gasping for breath behind closed doors. 

We ended our low key Sunday funday with dinner at her dad and step mom's, and we finally took over the piggy bank we got for her little brother Riley (he looks taller because he's 5 now, guys.) When Stormi explained that there were 2 parts to his belated birthday present and showed him the ziploc bag of coins, he sported his lady killer dimples and explained "oh thanks, but I would really rather have a toy instead." I adore her stepmom (Pennsylvania AND Polish roots, so that's a given) and her dad, but that little guy really does just melt my heart. I realized the other day while glancing at the ceramic transformers piggy bank we got for him why the idea came to me: your giant multicolored piggy bank. Pretty sure you used it to collect spare coins until you got sick, and it was such a staple and something I will always remember about you. Riley has discovered the joy of being able to pick out his own toys with money that has been gifted to him, so we thought a piggy bank would be a cool idea. His little face lit up when his big sis gave it to him, and he was very careful when carrying it, because "it's made of glass." When he finished putting his seemingly endless bag of coins into his new bank, he explained that he would get the money out through the belly button when someone needed it. When asked for further clarification, he told us he was referring to people who don't have money. Seriously? This kid is the greatest, and I'm so lucky to know his whole family. 

I know if you were still here, these stories would warm your heart. You were always thankful to the people who gave me a family a thousand miles away from the one I was born into, and they are no exception.  

“A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words.”

Mary Ann had a heart attack just a few short months before we had any idea you were sick. You suspected something might be wrong when you didn't hear from her on your birthday, but life kept you busy as it so often did and you didn't think much of it until you heard from her a few weeks later, informing you of what had happened. I remember your voice cracking over the phone as you told me, "she actually died more than once on the operating table, but they were able to bring her back." I told you how happy I was that she was okay, and I told you that you had to make more of an effort to keep in touch with her. Neal and I insisted that we go visit her the next time we were both home (I don't think I had seen her in years at that point.)

You and Mary Ann had a special bond that only people who have known one another since childhood are lucky enough to posess. You had seen eachother through the best and worst of times, and in many ways, you were the only constant thing that could be depended on in each other's lives. I remember thinking "I don't know what mom would do if she ever lost Mary Ann." I thought it was just a scare and a reminder of how special that relationship was, and that some day, when you were both 90, you'd be sitting in your rocking chairs, reminiscing about the old times and that one close call. I didn't realize it would turn out so differently.  

It wasn't long before the tables turned, and Mary Ann was making regular visits to see you. As your memory faded, she'd sit out on the deck and tell stories about the good old days as she took over for you as my back tickler. Dad even told her at one point, "you must be really special, she usually saves that job for her mom." She'd crack jokes about how much she regretted growing her nails out, because I'd just sit in front of her, like I often did with you, and that always prompted the action without me having to say a word. The truth is, Mary Ann really IS special in a way other than the obvious when anyone talks to her. She is this really incredible piece of you that we still get to have, while learning to accept everything that we have lost...together. 

Mary Ann would ask you if you remembered her stories, and of course early on, you'd insist that you did. Time went on, and as you grew more and more tired, you responded less and less to those anecdotes and tales from your childhood and younger years. But I know, and I hope she does too, how special those memories always were to you. It dawned on me very early on how lucky Neal and I are to have Mary Ann; how special it is to have this person who lived through so many memories with you, and who can keep the stories going, even after you're gone...and how close we came to not being so lucky. My heart hurts for Mary Ann as I type these words, because as much as it warms our hearts to have her here to carry your memory on in such a special way, I can only imagine how broken her heart must feel when she tells us stories and no longer has her "buddy" by her side to fill in pieces she may have left out or to insert an inappropriate joke here and there. She recently celebrated her 60th birthday, and she didn't get that phone call from you, singing loudly and off-key. The dynamic of the relationship that you two shared was something so special and so rare, and probably very much created the foundation of so many friendships I'm lucky to have in my own life. 

I will always be sad that Stormi never got to know you. She didn't get to see that light in your eyes, or experience all your goofy Jazazzle-isms. (That just became a thing, by the way.) But I realized when she got to meet Mary Ann on our trip to the Burgh that to know her is really to know you. Your energy and those special stories and her love for you really shines through her when she talks about you. 

And even though it's not everything and it never will be, it holds its own weight. I get to have my own unique relationship with someone who was so close to you. I get these loving text messages from her,

asking me how her two favorite girls are doing and always telling me she loves me and to tell Stormi she loves her, too. How lucky am I? That's my mom's best friend, and in many ways, she is the voice of my mom...reminding me how much she loves me, and that finding happiness in this life is all she ever wanted for me.