when did this happen?

When did I get old enough to have a teenager?

Not only that, but a teenager who wants to put colorful stripes in her hair? And asks for my help buying the hair coloring agent? And then asks for my advice on where to put it? And looks up at me with her melty, chocolate eyes and beauuuutiful fringy lashes and says, "I really want to know your advice. I trust you."

I won the lottery here. I adore her, Mom. I know you do, too.

2011

Hi Mom,

You left us a year ago yesterday. I don't like the way that sounds, it sort of implies that you went voluntarily, but I don't like the way "taken" or "died" sounds either. And while we "lost" you in some ways, that doesn't quite hit it either. It was a horrible day then, and I thought of you all day yesterday, but I was able to think of good things more than I expected to.

Last Christmas, you found such wonderful gifts for us. We're all still using them so much that it makes me really glad to have them; they're a link for me to you. I pulled out wrapping paper that we'd saved that has stickers on them with your writing. That makes me happy to have, too. I've always envied your penmanship. Lovely AND legible. I sign my name the same way you always have; first two initials and then last name. Brings you to mind each time I do, whether it's at work or signing a check. I like that connection.

I know that you're pleased that Dad is doing so well. He's traveling and continuing to be the social animal that he always has been. He's made a lady-friend in San Diego, and I know he's told you all about her, that she's kind and funny and reads the same books that you like. He took her to dine with Chuck and Muriel and they liked her, too. He misses you so much. I wish I could do more for him from here.

It was a nice, relaxed Christmas this year; I took off a whole week and really got to slow down and enjoy it. We had some snow which made things lovely, but not enough to cause any real problems getting around. Now we're back to rain; typical NW weather.

I miss hearing your voice on the phone. I miss your encouragement when I talk about work issues. I miss hearing you yell at Dad to turn the TV down when you get on the phone. I miss hearing all the redecorating plans for both houses. My mind's eye has you curled up on the couch, needlepointing away or working on acrostics or the NY Times crosswords. I have your Nintendo DS, and I love seeing your name in your writing each time I play with the Brain Age game. I wish that I'd kept your book list. I love you, Mom.

LYMY
XXXOOO
kt

Gobble gobble

I sense a theme here, holiday posts.

I remember that you always said that Thanksgiving dinner was the one meal you never minded cooking. Mostly I remember the ones in AZ, around the clawfoot table. That notwithstanding, the one in Japan with the pastel-colored marshmallows on the sweet-potato casserole was quite a memorable one.....

It's an odd day here, Mom, it's been snowing off and on this week, and we have about two to three inches on the ground, though it's warming up and supposed to rain today. I got stuck downtown Monday night and stayed in an old hotel that you and Dad would love, the Sorrento. Tiny old lift with a carpet that has the day of the week on it, nice cozy bed and a sitting room and a VERY COLD marble bathroom.

We're off to the Readers here in a minute, but I'm thinking of you and wishing I could give you a hug and kiss and cuddle up next to you on the couch while you do embroidery and I knit.

XXOO
LYMY

kt

Boo! It's Halloween

Hi Mom,

It's late in the evening on Halloween. M was a vampire this year (not a Twilight sparkly one, but an honest to goodness scary one with pale face and cape). She went to a party last night and then to a friends for movies and trick-or-treating tonight.

It was kind of an odd weekend--S had to work yesterday, so M and I lazed about and then got her ready for the party. Today just went by too quickly, but I have to admit, I'm losing my love of the day. I remember back when I wanted to be married on Halloween. I still like dressing up, and this year I was my desk at work, which is a huge mass of papers and post-it notes and my coffee cup and calendars and all sorts of other stuff.

The one part of Halloween that I do still love is the pumpkins. We had two this year that were at least 2 inches thick--carving them was a real job! Marion and I gutted them and carved them on our tiny front porch--it rained last night, but today was a picture-perfect fall day, and it hasn't started raining yet!. I have a big bowl of seeds to toast, and we got tons of compliments on the jack-o-lanterns. The best compliment was finding the top of the teeny squash I carved several feet away from the bottom of the squash--and the top had been nibbled and chewed on! I'm wondering what will be left of them in the morning!

It's cold--in the 50s mostly, but dropping lower at night. It's supposed to be a very wet, nasty winter this year. I'm still feeling such mixed emotions about being here--it was a move we really couldn't pass up, but had I known what it would be like, I might have made the decision to hold out in AZ instead. It really is incredible different to live in a place than it is to visit. Like S said, "I thought this place was gonna be cool." Me, too. Parts of it are, but it overwhelmingly isn't. M's starting to feel more at home here, and she's made some good friends, but they all live in another part of town so it's hard to even arrange for her to hang out with them. I like my job, but the commute takes a lot of time every day. It's so blinking expensive here, too! I miss our house.

I'm going to sign off for now. I miss you. I know we really didn't see eye-to-eye on lots of things, but I never doubted that you loved me. I hope you know that I love you, too; always have and always will.

5/22/10

Happy Celebration Day, Mom. I'm sorry I didn't post on Mother's Day.

We had your party today, Stephen's birthday, at a restaurant in Seattle that overlooks the shipping canal. The room was lovely, and we had flowers and a big board of photos as well as a slideshow of photos going throughout. We also had a board with samples of your writings (Christmas letters) and lots of your name tags from trips and music festivals. There was a brass quintet; it was so nice outside that they played on the patio, startling and pleasing passing kayaks, joggers and dog-walkers. They had a great repertoire; Dixieland, swing classics, and classical. Trombone, euphonium, french horn and two trumpets.

Dad spoke along with some selected photos and told of your history together; it was very sweet. Everyone enjoyed his reminiscing, and many joined in at one point or another to identify people in photos or add to the backstory.

Paul Courtney and his wife Diane and daughter Heather were there, the Kelly's, Glenna and rank, Babs Glasgow. Joe's in the hospital, but I think Dad's going to visit him tomorrow. Mark and Fran, of course, Seth, Marion, and two friends from work that I would have liked you to know, Melissa and Hazel. It was really sweet, and the band played beautifully. We had a buffet of hors d'oerves, and it was all very casual, which worked well.

I felt happy rather than sad, which was a nice thing as I've been so stressed in the last week getting ready for this. Dad took a tumble and cut his ear and cheek, and I do worry about him. He and Stephen have been working very hard together to take care of all of the details of running the household that you handled; they're doing pretty well, but you know how it is whenever there's a change of command.

It was cloudy and sprinkled this morning, then it was gorgeous all during the party, and now it's clouded up again. I hope that we did it the way that you would have liked. It was very odd not having you there; it felt as though you were, and I think that's one of the reasons that it was as relaxed as it was. Everyone got along and I believe that they had a good time.

I miss you; it would have been more fun had you been there in person rather than in spirit. I hope you know how much I love you.

You say it's your birthday

I just talked with Dad and S-- I'm really glad that they're together tonight.

Thanks for making it easy on me--having your birthday right before Mother's Day really made things simple for as far back as I can remember.

I'm looking forward to your Celebration in a couple of weeks, and I'm looking forward to seeing Dad and S.

I love you, Mom. Happy Birthday.

for you, Mom

I'm a little early for your birthday, but I wanted you to have these. They smell wonderful. I miss you.