Bittersweet

Dear Mama,

Do you remember when I was a teenager and I would wake you up in the middle of the night because I had a bad dream? They were so frequent back then. I remember dreaming about losing you, waking up scared, then waking you up and crying hysterically on your shoulder. You said you weren't going anywhere, mama.....You hugged me tight, kissed my cheek each time and assured me that you weren't going anywhere. But you did. Why did you leave me? I'm sorry. It's just been a weird couple of days. A contradictory couple of days. Great and horrible. Imprisoning and liberating. Happy and sad. I need you here to listen to me. You always understood me, even when I made no sense. Now, I don't even understand me.

I have created a Relay for Life team in your honor. "Team Shipley's", we call ourselves. I thought it might be easier to get donations with a recognizable name. Some thought it was too soon for me to dive into something like this. But, I think it's helping me. Granted, I have cried more since I became involved in it, than I have since you left. We had a bake sale at your old job. David's Grocery. Just saying the name makes me hear your voice saying it. I would call you at work during a busy moment and you would answer with an aggravated, panicky voice...Your tone would be slightly elevated: "David's Grocery!" I knew I better talk fast, when I heard this. Being there was so hard, Mama. I stopped going in there too much after you got sick. As much as I love the place, and as much as I feel that it is sentimental to our family, I just couldn't bare to walk in there as often as I once did. When I walked in, I kept expecting to see you behind the counter. But you weren't there. You were home sick. Or you were somewhere hooked up to a pump, with poison running through your veins. Poison that didn't save you, by the way. There was someone else behind the counter. On the counter was a jug with your picture. A picture of a healthy woman. A picture I couldn't bare to look at. There were people asking about you. They were concerned about your well being. They wanted you back behind that counter too. Their words usually brought me to tears. All that considered,I think the main reason I stopped frequenting the store, is because I knew you would never work there again. EVER. That was just too hard. You chose to work and raise kids. That store was half of your life. Now when I walk in, you are gone, the jug is gone and all that is left of you are the images burned into my mind. Images that were relentless throughout the two days of our bake sale. A couple people asked about you. They hadn't heard that you left. A couple people cried when they saw your picture. I was bombarded by memories. I envisioned you walking out the door in your little blue apron and standing in the parking lot by the paper machine while you complained to me about bickering coworkers. I would listen, and then we would hug and kiss, and I would be off to wherever. You would finish your work day. The smells, the scenery, the people, they all took me to a different time. A different Nikki was there, and she didn't know about your leaving. I had to tell her and she was absolutely devastated. I miss you. I miss you so much.

 The bake sale was very successful, and it feels great to know that we helped someone affected by Cancer- but I am still trying to recover from the explosion of emotions that being at the store brought about. They are quite overwhelming.

I got some old disposable cameras developed and I picked up the pictures tonight. I couldn't wait to look at them. When I pulled the first one out, it was a picture of me and you. You were beautiful. You were plump and healthy looking. I was young and clueless to what the near future held for me. No bad dream could prepare me for what was to come. As I looked, I wanted you back so badly, just as you were in those pictures. Less than an hour later, Michael found me sitting in a small space between the bed and a wall crying hysterically. I had leaned down to pick something up, but instead, I sat down on the floor. I sat there for a while thinking about you. I don't know why. The store. The pictures. The relay. It all just hit me like a ton of bricks and I started crying. I just sat there in that little space crying aloud and thinking of you until he came in there and found me. He leaned down and put his hand on my shoulder. A simple gesture, but it calmed me down a little. I just kept saying "I just want to talk to her. That's all." He remained quiet. What could he say? The baby then began to cry, so I had to get up. I knew that I needed to anyway.

I just keep thinking this is going to get easier. I keep waiting to adjust or harden or something....Anything.... But, I am starting to lose hope for that to actually happen. This is life, now. I wish I could wake up and get that reassurance from you that I once did...."I'm here baby. I'm not going anywhere." But I can't wake up. This is not a bad dream in the literal sense, but I have to tell you mama, it truly is a nightmare.

I love you so much with all of my broken heart.....

Love,

Nikki

PS.
I included some pictures:

Here are your three favorite girls....

Your grave was sinking and settling. So I called Amber and we devised a plan.....

We got the kids to help us haul dirt......

And dump it.......They had fun doing it, and it really did help us out.

They were really tired afterwards. I think we got it looking a little better.

It was important that I had your picture there. Ms. Sharon reminded me that YOU were there, in addition to your picture.....I believe so, too. I felt you.

Michael told his crew to ask EVERY customer that came in if they would like to donate to the American Cancer Society. They have now sold around 400 of these Relay feet....

Here are those old photos....You look gorgeous...

Funny how time flies.

I miss you mama.