While I'm usually inclined to not share my doctor appointments with an audience, I asked my mom to join me for a routine scheduled ultrasound at 9 weeks (or thereabouts) pregnant.
I remember the joyful tears in her eyes as we watched the teeny tiny beating heart up on the big flat screen in the dim room.
I am so thankful to have shared that experience with her.
After my appointment, I stopped in town for an iced coffee and brought it to the cemetery.
I laid out a blanket at the foot of my mom's grave and recounted (out loud) that day to her...the nerves and excitement that I had felt, the fact that I was so glad she had been there by my side.
I told her how Maeve points to the pictures of "Grammy" on our kitchen wall and leans over to kiss them/her.
I told her about my challenging ride in the humid woods with my dad last night.
I told her about the excitement in my brother's voice when he called to tell me about his audition for the upcoming prison talent show.
I told her about Max easing into fourth grade with a renewed confidence (or as Max would say, "swagger"...I know).
I told her about the pit I feel in my stomach, the ache in my heart, every time I think about her upcoming 61st birthday (9/30)...how I'll bake her a cake and we'll celebrate "with" her.
With my coffee finished and our conversation over, I sat in silence and soaked up the sunshine and perfect breeze.
I've said it before, but having my mom's final resting place so close to home brings me immense comfort.
I miss her every. single. day.
We're so fortunate to have such a beautiful place nearby to visit and reflect.
I see many more coffee dates with Mare in my future.