19 Things I Took For Granted About My Mom

When I was 17, my mom was diagnosed with a rare and extremely aggressive cancer. When I was 19 she lost her fight with that cancer. In the almost five years since she has been gone, I have had a lot of time to realize that I didn’t know what I had had until she was gone and what I took for granted when she was here. This is a list I wrote to my mom of all the things I miss about her and took for granted.
Terms Of Endearment
Terms Of Endearment

1. The consistent compliments. I think my self-esteem has taken a nose dive and it takes me twice as long to shop now without you there to tell me how great I look in everything. Call me conceited but you really did make me feel like the most beautiful girl in anything I tried on. Of course you were probably biased since you made me and all but still.

2. Your cooking. No matter what it was from pancakes and peanut butter and jellies to brownies and chocolate cookies. I could follow your recipe exactly and it still doesn’t taste the same as when you’d make it. (I can’t find your French toast recipe anywhere. Did you hide it? Or burn it? Where is it?!)

3. Having another woman in the house. Dad and Zach are great when it comes to sports talks, drinking beer and eating pizza. But they’re not really into home mani/pedi sessions, Gilmore Girl and Friends marathon binges or eating Grater’s ice cream out of the container by the gallon. As much as I’ve tried to convert them, they still insist on being men.

4. Asking me how my day was. I know in high school I would roll my eyes and huff and puff when you would ask me how my day went. I miss coming home and telling you every detail of my day, knowing you cared (or pretended to at least). Karma is a bitch isn’t it? I take back all that eye rolling now.

5. Your hugs. Oh how I crave your hugs. They always seemed to make everything feel right in the world. You gave the best hugs.

6. Your tough love. I’m sure you know already that I have been struggling a lot since you’ve been gone. I’ve made some bad/risky decisions and part of me wonders if it is because I am half hoping that you will magically show up and knock some sense into me like you used to.

7. Your advice. Even though when you were alive I know I acted like your advice was stupid (but that’s because my mom couldn’t possibly be right about anything), 99% of the time I followed it and worked (shocker). I miss having you to talk through every problem or situation with.

8. Your surprises. Call me spoiled but I do miss the little knick-knacks you would pick up just because you thought I might like it or just to let me know you were thinking of me. P.S. HELP! I’m almost out of that purple nail polish you bought and I can’t find it anywhere.

9. Your faith. I know I groaned about having to get up for church on Sunday mornings or reading devotions every night but I miss you pushing me to go and keeping me close to my faith. I’ve slacked off since you’ve been gone. Sorry God.

10. Your adventurousness. I miss having someone who would be up for a spur of the moment hiking/biking adventure or flight out to Colorado. You always encouraged me to explore, travel and try new things. I need that push out to get of my comfort zone.

11. Your cleanliness. The house has not looked the same since you left (you left me alone with two boys what do you expect). I’m sure you would faint if you looked at my bathroom in its current state. I actually miss your insane cleaning habits.

12. Your generosity. You gave and gave and gave. And when I didn’t think you could, you gave some more. Even when you were sick. Your example taught me to be a better person.

13. Your DIYness. Your ability to turn anything into a project was incredible. You would LOVE Pintrest if you had had the chance. My room really could use a facelift from you right about now.

14. Your genuine kindness. You had the best heart out of anyone I have ever known. You always taught me to look for the good in people and I never realized how important that was until I got older. If we always look for the bad we will live a pretty miserable life.

15. Your ability to spot a sale. You had a special talent for scoping out a sale and finding the best stuff at amazing prices. I just don’t have the patience to look for the racks like you did.

16. Your holiday cheer. No matter what the holiday was Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, Arbor Day, whatever, you always had a way of making them feel incredibly special. Even if you did make us still hunt for our Easter baskets and write letters to Santa at the ages of 18 and 16.

17. Acting as a buffer between Dad and I. You’ll be happy to know we don’t fight as much as we used to but I definitely miss having you there to calm us both down and to help him see my side (and vice verse I suppose).

18. Making me appreciate my curly hair. But seriously, it’s been out of control since you left. It’s probably because you haven’t been here to compliment it and tell me how pretty it is and how so many woman would pay to have hair that looks like me (see item #1). TELL ME I’M PRETTY.

19. My best friend. I miss my best friend. I miss having someone to vent to and not having to worry about them thinking I’m a bitch or terrible person. I miss having that person that no matter what horrible thing I’ve done, knowing that I can turn to you and know that you love me no matter what. I miss having that person who believed in me and pushed me to be my best. And when it feels like my world is falling apart, I miss that person who could put it back together and tell me everything is going to be okay. I miss the things that we never even got to do together. Like shopping for and decorating my dorm, Mom’s Weekend at OU, mother-daughter trips, coffee dates, my 21st birthday, biking trips, college graduation, my first apartment, my first job, my wedding (if that day ever actually comes), meeting your first grandchild, the list could go on forever.  I miss my mom, my role-model, and my best friend. I miss you and I’m sorry I took you for granted. TC mark

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