It's really funny...just last night I was thinking about how much different life would be if my mom hadn't died.
Well, anyway, at dinner thats where the conversation ended up. My dad was talking about how when Sharon was pregnant with me, I was the most perfect child ever. Lol, and when I came out, I would sleep...and I just made everything so easy. My brother on the other hand...she had said she thought Kevin was playing football in there, he just wouldn't stop...And later after he was born, I guess when he was about 2-3, he would never go to sleep, and eventually they would just let him come and sleep with them. At one point they got scared that something was wrong, and they asked a doctor what to do. And he said...they would just have to go through it, and not let him come into their bed, so that Kevin would learn how to sleep on his own. Lol, Kevin didn't like that idea...so...for thenext three weeks, every night between eleven and one, he would come and bang on their door. And when he went unanswered...he would bang his head. For hours at a time for 3 weeks, this toddler would be banging his head against the door, and they couldn't do anything.
So that got me all sappy, and all like "Awww, look what they had to go through, they must have reallty loved eachother". Then...
Then, he started talking about the death. It was the middle of the night...fifteen years from tommorow. One of the arteries in her heart burst, and the blood filled her lungs. Then all the gas left her body, pretty much one giant burp. And what happened...my brother (he was sleeping in their bed that night), nudged my dad, and said "Mommy make noise", and he rushed to the hospital.
When my dad came back, Kevin came running up to him. Full on running. And my dad looked him in the eye, and said "Your mom is dead, and she's never coming back." Yeah, the most difficult moment of his life. He almost cried when he was telling us right now (I don't really know why, because that's the one part that he's actually talked about before)
So, for the next....I don't know long, Kevin wouldn't let anyone near anything of my mom's. Nobody sat at her seat at the table, no one took the cups she used to drink from. Well anyway, one day, it was 8 months after the death, my dad calls my gramma, and says "Hey mom, how are you?" And kevin, on the couch, jumped off, fell off the couch, and ran to the phone, with a smile that nobody had seen since that day. He thought his mother was on the phone. And...that's where my Dad couldn't talk anymore, just cry.
So later, my gramma was saying how I'm so much like my mom. Calm. Rarely get my emotions all wound up. Whereas Kevin, was almost entirely my Dad.
And then I got to thinking. If my gramma is the way she is, and I'm like my Mom...she must have been a really great person. And then I thought about how two days ago, we were going through this box of her things. She liked to sew. And Knit, and that kinda stuff. She made a couple of those framed pictures made of threads and stuff...I wanna keep one, But i dont know where I could put it. And I guess my gramma wants it more.
Idk...I wish I just knew more about my family. I don't know what she looked like; we have pictures, but we never look at them. I really wish I could have seen her growing up. With my gramma and everybody. And to see her, and my aunt, and my gramma when they were all in the same house, at their home. My grampa died before I was born, and my dad never let me go to any of the family reunions. So I know two aunts and gramma. Thats 3, out of a family of...well, the roster for the family reunion this year, was 2 1/2 pages long. So....I know like...less than 10 percent.
Not kool at all...