Cool kid and I are driving home, talking about a recent weaving loom experience she had at a friends house recently and it just brought me right back to my "unofficial grandma"
Part of the reason this year was so hard for me up to this point has been due to her loss.
I know there are people who probably question that because for the last seven or so years of my adult life our chats and correspondences were few and far between. In retrospect this makes me so sad, because the reason for that was, 1. life and 2. stupid people I don't respect surrounding a great woman I always loved and respected more then I was ever able to express to her. I guess you always think tomorrow you will get the chance. I never even realized that until uncle moking had his poem to his mother read by my best mom at the memorial.I never put it all together until then.
The night I heard the news and the day after I cried a fair amount, but just chocked it up to grief. But it was there; in that moment, there was a line in his poem... (damn I wish I had a copy of it it was so beautiful... who knew uncle moking was so talented?) it said something like "all the words I thought I had more time to say, now are gone with yesterday.) That line, escaping best mom's lips. It ripped my heart out. And it was then I realized. I never got to tell her. I never got to say thank you. I stayed under the radar to avoid people that don't really matter to me, when I let one huge important influence in my life slip through the cracks and now I cannot even say I'm sorry. How fucked up is that? And I am not sure on which end it is more.
Regret, is a terrible horrible thing that will rip you apart.
Being the kind of person I am I really try not let people see my misery, or my sadness because I am so ashamed sometimes of my big ass heart. So When I got up to read brothers solders eulogy, I thought this is perfect, he is singing the song of happy childhood smiles and I smiled right along with them....until I didn't anymore. I balled like a fucking baby in front of a room full of 60 some odd people that were like who the fuck is this girl? and I felt ashamed, as the crappy people I avoided steely gazed me like I had no right to mourn. But no one knew what I was mourning that day. No one has truly understood except best mom since, what I always mourn. The loss of a women who never had to love me, had no obligation to me. But always did. She always listened to me when I needed her no matter what. Always tried to guide me through my life the best way she knew how. Someone I took for granted and assumed she would be around for me to say thank you, but she was gone in the snap of my fingertips.....
Several people there were mourning their rock, their lifeline, hell I hate to say it but... their meal ticket. Not me, I was mourning the woman I loved, and my own damned stupidity and selfishness.
So cool kid and I are talking about the weaving loom, and how much she really enjoyed weaving. I started without thinking to talk about Juju and the weaving loom she gave me one year as a Christmas gift, The doll Elena she made for me, the many things she always did for me. and the next thing I know we are talking about 99 cent store trips for almond cookies and swimming in kitties pool and summers in Covina, and it's the first time in a long time I have thought of "unofficial grandma" and smiled. Because I'm lucky. I'm damn luck. I hope she knows.... how much I really love her.
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