It's been 18 years since I've seen you

September 10, 2019

Dear Mom,

It has been exactly 18 years since I've seen you. Heard your voice. Saw your hands that look exactly like mine. Heard you read 2 year old Drew a Richard Scary book. Hold a 3 month old Amelia and whisper in her ear not to cry in the car (she continued to do that for months and of course 18 years later, loves to drive).

Your last words to us still cut my heart in half. "Don't grow up too much when I'm away."

That 2 year old and 3 month old are now 20 and 18 and both in college.

Mom, everyone in the family has grown and is literally taller than me:)

For the past 2 weeks I've been telling everyone, "I am so busy with so many things in my life right now, I don't even have time to think about 9/11." It was true. Usually when I wake up on August 1st my mind and body go into emotional battle mode. It didn't happen this time because I was in California with Drew so he could meet The Garcia's. Oh mom, I often wonder what you think of everything that has happened the last year and a half. Everyone had such kind and wonderful memories of you and like the magnet on my refrigerator says, I truly believe with all my heart and soul that everything happens for a reason and for whatever reason the universe waited for this year for me to meet my loving family and it has been the most beautiful blessing, one that I'm so grateful for every day. Then September 1st came and I had just moved 2 kids into college on 2 coasts in 4 days, started school and I was just flat out, well, flat out. Still none of the usual PTSD symptoms that typically visit me this time of year. It took me leaving Boston for my well constructed wall of denial to come crashing down. On an elliptical machine. To Lizzo. Hey, at least it happened with good music in the background.

I was at the hotel gym working out while Jess slept. You would have been so proud of our packing-between the two of us I think we had 8 pairs of shoes for less than 48 hours but no deodorant or toothpaste. Priorities. I had just lifted weights and and was going to get some cardio in so put on my Pump and Primp Spotify playlist and was getting ready to sweat. I was grooving along on the elliptical thinking about what a great dinner we had had the night before, what I was going to eat for breakfast, the upcoming wedding, and that I needed to call the kids. Then. BOOM. I'm singing "I am free, yeah yeah, come water me..." and in one instant the wall of denial comes crashing down.

I am at the exact same life point you were when you died. You and dad had just started the Empty Nester phase. Tempo, Dolce, and I just started ours. Aren't they adorable?

I physically found it hard to breathe. And then I realized come tomorrow, you will have been gone for half of one of your children's life. 18 years. Don't grow up too much.

I just sent my baby girl 3,000 miles away. And I couldn't be more proud of her. She is loving, funny as hell, smart, and I hope will change the world with the stories she'll tell through film. And you would have found a reason to visit California every other month to check up on her, take her shopping, and let her know that even though she was far away from home, she was always close to your heart.

And the 2 year old boy who you told not to throw the ball into the poison ivy and he did, you laughed, got it and then had poison ivy all over hands? He just called me. In addition to being on the quidditch team, and competitive ballroom team at college, he's now auditioning for a play. I told him to kick some butt for his Grandma Cora. And yes, I know you would have gone to every one of his games and competitions. He probably would have talked you into going to a metal show with him and you would have gone because no was a word that you didn't know when it came to your family. That's what made you you.

So there I am sweating, Lizzo playing in my ears and I had this "a ha" moment. You had a 30, 22, and 18 year old when you died. I have a 20 and 18 year old. You were about to experience what life was like without kids in the house. Exactly where I am. Exactly. My heart started to get heavy again. Breathe, Steph, breathe. How did I not figure this out earlier? Seriously, how? Then I realized that I've been focusing on 52, the year you died, for so long. That was going to be the hardest year. I forgot about places in life. And all of a sudden this peace and resolve flowed through me. You were telling me something. So many countless nights I've asked you for signs the past 18 years and sometimes I do think you've answered.

You were telling me to be me. Me. Not who I thought I should be or different versions of my depending on my environment, but me. You were telling me, Hey Kiddo, life is short, be your most authentic self, take risks, love more deeply, mother more passionately, and stand up for what you believe in and leave this world a better place. I'm still not sure how sweating on an elliptical machine to Lizzo in a hotel gym made me realize all of this but it did. When I wake up on September 12th, I will have surpassed you on being an empty nester. You have inspired me Mom to do something. Go out of my comfort zone. Make a difference. I can't explain but knowing that I will have surpassed you makes me want to live my life a little bolder-for me and for you.

I know your last words were to my kids were "Don't grow up." But they did mom. And despite my occasional parenting miscalculations, these 2 are ready to take on the world. Make it a kinder place. They don't have memories of you-you live through the stories of others. But they know you. They love you. They miss you. We all do.

18 years without you mom. I honestly didn't know how I was going to make it through year one. But I did. And I have your continued love to thank for that. You never stopped believing in me. Please don't. And when I need another kick in the Latina butt, send a sign like you did this weekend. Except maybe instead at a spa instead of a cramped hotel gym?

You knew it was coming. The song. You know that every September 11th I try to go to a concert on or around. You loved music and I love experiencing something that you loved to do in honor of you. So don't faint but this past year I've started listening to a little country. I'm slightly kinda obsessed with Kacey Musgraves. I knew it was a sign when I saw that she was playing Boston on 9/12. The genius woman who wrote High Horse, an anthem of mine, was going to be in town. I knew I HAD to see her. This is actually the first song I ever heard by her, a cover. I LOVE covers. Love them. A new twist on a familiar song. The minute I heard her voice, I was hooked. And mom, I think if you were here, you'd love her too and I would have taken you to see her. And saved you from a metal show with your only grandson:)

Love,

Steph

#9/11 #neverforget #kaceymusgraves #lizzo #remember