Her & Mom & Me

She was a Her before me. She was Mom before I was born. I am nothing without both. Forty-two years ago, I was due. I envision my mom pacing the floor, anxious, nervous, but mostly excited. I was stubborn and kept her on her toes.  She became a mom the day she found out she was pregnant. I wish I knew exactly when that was. Maybe it was immediately after conception. Maybe it was months. Was she happy? Did she cry?  I know I couldn't possibly know every detail of her life, but I wish I did. I want to fill my memory, my brain with her story, her stories. How did she become who she ... was? How did she become so courageous, tough, and able to endure such pain - physical, mental, emotional? She shared some of her stories that rose enough to the top of her mind, for better or worse. I don't know if I want to know her legacy, her to be remembered by some of her most traumatic experiences. I know several of those. Was her diagnosis a manifestation of one of them? Depression passed dow...

OBX holds a place in my heart. My first trip was with both of my parents for my 7th birthday even though they had been divorced since before my earliest memory. It was all I wanted, a beach trip with both of them and they made it happen. It was right after the Gulf War began. During the day we lounged on the beach and pool or go to the Foosball Palace (no longer exists) to play games and the juke box. At night, we were glued to the television. Then I'd return to Duck with my dad and his side of the family each June for many years. When Fiona turned 4 years old, the three of us began a new family tradition. Since then, we have been 8 times. Many years with our parents, Nick's siblings, and niece and nephew, including an evacuation during Hurricane Florence. This year it was different, for obvious reasons. My mom wasn't planning on going, but she had gone with us 4 of the recent trips. I knew this year's trip would be cathartic having endured the most challenging 4 months...