Five Years Ago

 Tomorrow marks the 5th anniversary of Mom’s death. Five years tomorrow at 11:40am. I can’t believe it’s been five years. Everything just seems like a blur to me these past years. I’m taking the day off work as I haven’t worked on any of the previous anniversaries and never will. I will be doing a certain ritual—a tradition, if you will—as I do every year at the time of death.

  My emotions are not so much sadness anymore, just anger and bitterness sometimes, directed at her for not trying to live and for secretly drinking herself to death; but also directed at myself for not seeing the signs and not doing everything in my power to keep her alive. It’s almost like some supernatural (re:evil) cover was put over my eyes, a malevolent pair of blinders that kept me some seeing reality and doing something about it. That anger turns into fits of rage every now and then, fortunately I keep it within the well-insulated walls of my house and is never, ever showcased in public.

  Not much else has happened these past five years, just work and sitting at home and going on little road trips to mountain cabins twice a year or so and visiting old friends up there while I’m at it. I got a promotion at work over years ago; Mom would have been proud. I’ve gained quite a bit of weight these past few years out of depression, I guess. I don’t know. I was involved in a car accident in Tampa two months ago, totaling my car of 13 years and causing me some injuries. I’m temporarily using Mom’s old car (seen in a previous blog). It would have been nice to have been able to call Mom afterwards and for her to be there for me as I went through recovery and all the mess of an accident, but I had nobody to call except for that father of mine. Life without your soulmate is empty.

  That’s all for now. I greatly encourage all of you to read my other blog posts over the past five years. Check them out!

Mom's Car

 I thought I would share this with all of you as it’s been a long time since I’ve posted on here. Tomorrow is the 18 month anniversary of the loss of my beloved mother and absolute best friend, Carol. One and a half years without my soulmate. One of the very few things of any value that she had left in her possession when she died was her car. I decided that there was no way I was going to part with that car, even if it meant paying a bit more with insurance and the initial title transfer fee (which the tag office cut in half when they realized the car was bequeathed to me). It was the first vehicle that Mom bought on her own, the first one she paid off on her own; it was hers and hers alone. Mom neglected it badly in her final year of life, so I have fixed it up, top to bottom, cleaning it, getting all the needed maintenance done, and taking care of it even more than my own car. 

 There’s also a sort of spiritual connection with it. Some months before she started getting sick, Mom was involved in a car accident. A woman driving a brand-new Toyota Tacoma pickup truck slammed into Mom’s car at a roundabout. The truck was badly damaged and had to be towed away, but Mom’s car had no damage. Nothing, not even a dent or scratch. The lady who caused the accident couldn’t believe it, but then she looked at the plate on the front of Mom’s car and said, “Yep, now I get it. Now I understand.” I used to pick on Mom for the tag, saying it was goofy, but methinks it’s going to stay on there. I don’t drive the car too much, so I expect to have it for a long time. Keeping the vehicle and taking care of it at all times is sort of a memorial for Mom; I do this in her memory.