I really can't believe my Uncle Tony is dead. How can he be gone? The last two year have been one death after another. Yes, he was 94 years old. Yes, I should have been prepared for it. But he has been the one constant my whole life. Multiple moves, constant readjusting. Then one loved one after another dying and he was there to understand how much it completely sucked. It was from a different point of view, he watched younger generations go before him, but he understood the loss. He always made me feel special and always appreciated me when other people didn't.

He was my godfather. He bought me my first bike. Almost all of my favorite childhood memories involve him. He walked me down the aisle and let me know it was okay my dad wasn't physically there because we both knew he actually was there making sure everything would be alright.

Human beings don't live forever and 94 is a lot more time than most of us get. He died before he lost his mind. He left us with nothing but positive memories of him. I could not have wished for a better ending for one of the most important people in my life and the life of my family. I just don't want him to be gone. I want him to call and tell me that I still look like the little girl who loved those weekends running around his backyard. I want him to say that he doesn't know what he'd do without me and how proud he is of who I am. I want to hear that infectious laugh one more time and maybe play a game of chess.

But he's gone and I know I have to accept it.

It just really sucks a lot.




Apparently, going topless wasn't something I had a problem with before kindergarten.

One year ago today, my mom was alive. One year ago, tomorrow, she wasn't.

I'm still pissed off about this.

I stopped expecting my Mom to call a while ago and her loss isn't a daily stab in the gut anymore. Not having her here is the new normal. There are times when I have the very logical thought, "Mom would have called me today" and the long term reality of this new, Mom-less world, slaps me in the face and makes me its bitch. It goes without saying that Mother's Day is going to be one of those days when I can still clearly hear her voice in my head wishing me a happy one.

"So what're you doing today?"

Missing you a lot and hating this new, Mom-less Mother's Day world.