Start

Where do I even begin? I’ve sat down here at least a dozen times trying to figure out what to write. And I’ve failed a dozen times.

My last post on here was February 16. A lot has happened since then.

Mom made the decision to enter hospise on March 18. She passed away March 26. I still can’t believe how quickly she went.

I continued to train for my sub-2 hour attempt. I ran a 2:01:50 on May 19 at the Bill Snyder Highway Half. So close and yet still so far away. I ran with my mini necklace urn in my pocket. Mom was with me.

On May 20, our treadmill broke AND Runner Boy and I were in a car accident. The car was totaled and I broke the middle metacarpal bone in my left hand. I had surgery on the 21st. Runner Boy was fine…thank goodness.

I was in a cast for 5 weeks with pins in my hand for 4 of those weeks. My coach gave me a slow build for my half in October. I was able to run with cast, but it was gross and I hated it.

I have a new car. No cast on my hand. Summer reading is almost over at work. I’m back training at a moderate level. Our treadmill is still broken, but I’m getting up a little earlier and driving into our small town to make laps around the neighborhoods. It’s making me stronger.

I miss Mom. She’s with me all the time. I feel her in a sudden breeze across my legs when I’m running. I see her in the sunrise during my runs. And the sunsets out my kitchen window when I do dishes.

Life goes on. Even if the thought of living the rest of it without her is suffocating. I’m going to start writing again. I need to get back on track with so many things. This is my start.

Stay neon.

3 Months

This morning I woke up. I stumbled into the kitchen and made coffee. Caribou…her favorite. I took a deep breath. I can’t smell coffee without thinking about her.

I watched the sunrise on this beautiful partly cloudy Kansas day. I didn’t take a picture. I tried to ignore the catch in my throat when I regretted not taking a picture.

I got dressed. I put on my purple Oiselle Story shirt. She loved Oiselle. She loved being a mother runner. I paired the shirt with Old Navy boyfriend jeans…she lived in them. I bought my first pair after she was gone.

I drove to my hand appointment and listened to Brad Paisley’s “When I Get Where I’m Going.” She played it for us in her hospital room on the last good day. When I miss her, I listen to it. I listen to it a lot.

3 months without her voice. Without her smile. Without her. I miss her. But I’m surviving. I’m living for her because she would expect nothing less.

I love you, Mama.