My Mom

My mom, Carol

You might have noticed that it's been a little quiet around here. The last few weeks have been pretty rough, and I want to explain.

My mom passed away two weeks ago, on February 12, and it's been hard to process. I was able to be by her side in Oklahoma when she passed away, and that brings me some comfort. But my heart hurts deeply, and I still have the feeling that I can to call her and talk about everything. She would know what to say.

I've heard that feeling doesn't go away, or at least that it takes a long time to go away.

Despite the heartache and the whirlwind of decisions that have to be made once someone you love passes away -- namely, the funeral and burial, and what to do with all of their things that also seem to be waiting for their owner to come home -- I have at moments felt a peacefulness and comfort that I can only explain as her spirit helping me through this. (Full disclosure: I'm Catholic and believe in God.)

Some things that otherwise would have seemed too much somehow fell into place, and when I've felt especially down, there has been something about the way the sun was shining or the gentleness of a Southern California breeze in February that told me she was at peace but also that she was still with me -- that she would always be with me.

I was talking to Will about Grandma, and he asked where she was. "In heaven," I said. "We need her back," he responded, which made me smile. (CC has processed this in her own way, keeping a strong face while sometimes allowing herself to cry. She's really into the Beatles right now and wrote a song about her sadness to the tune of "Yesterday.")

You might remember the times she visited -- here, here and here. Her obituary was also picked up by the Cherokee Phoenix. (She was Miss Cherokee Holiday in 1959.)

I will miss her visits out to LA, and I'm sad that my children were only around her for such a short time, but I know she will always be with me. With us.