All the firsts

This has been a hard couple of weeks. In some ways, it feels like we're adjusting - making progress towards this new "different" - but, in other ways we are just constantly reminded of what we're missing as another season unfolds before us.

I missed Mom when I saw my daffodil patch come into full bloom shortly after her death. I missed her even more when the last one wilted and slowly faded away this week.

I missed Mom when planning for Yuri's 3rd birthday. She was at the center of it last year. I did it, boat-cake and all, but felt "off" that day.

He was a happy birthday boy! 

I missed Mom when I pulled out the winter vegetables she had planted in our garden to make room for our summer garden. She would be out there nearly every day in this beautiful weather, hands and knees, covered in dirt and digging for worms with Yuri.

I miss Mom when I look out to the pond and see the apple tree with beautiful blossoms. I remember last year how full my heart was at this time of year -- anticipating Gareth's arrival, watching Mom and Yuri gardening in the tiered beds Bill had just completed.

I took this picture last Spring. That is Yuri and Mom, working together in the garden.

I missed Mom today when I couldn't find the planter with the hosta she had planted when we moved in to this house. Then, I found the planter -- sitting empty next to the deck. Bill may be the guilty party, or perhaps Yuri. But, I was sad that it got thrown out when I was looking forward to seeing the hosta again this year. Especially this year. If Mom were here, she would have laughed as I complained about Bill not caring about my "flowering" plants, and we would have found something else to put in the planter.

I missed Mom when Yuri had a 105.7 fever last night. If she knew he was sick before going to bed, she'd for sure be checking her phone for texts that night and I likely would have gotten a reassuring text from her.

I miss Mom when I just want her to say, come here Bethy, sit next to me and tell me why you look so sad.