Another year, another storm weathered.

This weekend was like every other weekend. I loathed at the amount of homework I had to complete and the ever growing stress of the coming up week was making me very unhappy. I went down to Houston Saturday night to visit with Jordan's father and stepmother for the night. We ate at a Mexican food restaurant, shared a few stories, and even managed to laugh a few times (a rare occasion).

Still, something just wasn't right.

I was quiet and feeling a little down for most of the weekend. I believed it was just the stress taking its toll on me. When we returned to College Station I realized everything that I had to accomplish this week, and took some of my frustrations out on Jordan. I was tired, had no desire to sit on the computer and figure out math problems I didn't understand, and read 50+ pages over abolitionism. Jordan left for campus a little annoyed. I was perturbed and upset.

While I was doing my homework this evening, a storm began to roll in. I mean, we haven't seen a significant amount of rainfall here since probably April. I had begun to forget what thunder had sounded like. Suddenly, the skies opened up and the rain fell, and it fell hard. Lightning flashed ferociously and the thunder wailed. Car alarms were sounding throughout our street and branches were flying off the trees. The wind howled, and soon enough, hail began pelting our roof and windows. I watched in awe as mother nature took out its fury on our street. Trying to relieve the stresses of the drought.

Suddenly the rain stopped. I walked outside to survey the damage and upon reaching our driveway, was confronted with a full blown, double arced rainbow sitting in the sky over my house. I just stood there and couldn't help but smile. A thought crossed my mind at that moment. Here I was worried about school and getting things done. I was fretting about the amount of work I would have to weather in the coming week and had forgotten about my rewards.

Sometimes you have to be reminded by the ones you love that even though times may get dark and stormy, there will always be someone waiting for you on the other side, ready to greet you with a rainbow.

Thanks, and Happy Birthday Mom.

until then,

I love you always.

Sometimes I wonder

As of current, I am sitting in the Hobgood building waiting for Jordan to finish his physics homework (cause I already finished my assignment!) and listening to some guitar arrangements of some of my favorite songs on youtube. One of the ones I stumbled across several months ago was a beautiful rendetion of the Beach Boy's "Little Surfer Girl", and I can't help but go back to it every so often and listen to it over and over again. This particular song, along with many others, reminds me of my mother. Everytime I hear "little surfer girl" I picture my mother in her younger years when she used to go to the beach with her friends and surf. Whether or not they actually did I'll never know, but that's what she used to tell me.

I miss her a lot somedays. Actually, in reality I miss her a lot every day, but sometimes I have those days where I wonder what my life would be like if she were still with us today. I wonder if things would be different. I don't know how to explain it exactly, but it's like this wordless question that crosses my thought processes every now and then. Especially when I am driving across town to deliver the mail for work every day, I have a lot of time to ponder over these things.

Mostly, I think I just miss her being here for this part of my life. I miss being able to share everything with her. What was especially hard was when I took my guitar class and I learned so much about the music she enjoyed to listen to every morning on KARTS. I wanted to talk about Bach with her, discuss his composing styles and trade musical movements with each other. Sometimes, when I heard a particular piece I enjoyed I was curious to know if she had heard it before, most likely she had. I want to share everything I learn with her. In a way I can, but sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have just one more conversation with her.

I would talk for the rest of my life.

I wonder if I would call her everyday from school, if I would go home more often than I do now, if I could cook better meals for dinner, and etc. Sometimes I wonder if we would of even moved to Moulton...

or if I would have ever of met Jordan at all.

Sometimes I wonder how I get through it all. I see girls sitting with their mothers in doctor offices, walking around with them on campus on their first days of school, taking them shopping, and daughters calling their mom's on their phones and talking to their mothers as if they were best friends.

I wonder if I would have been the same way.

Perhaps, things happen for a reason. I believe in this firmly, and maybe this is how I get through my days. As hard as it was, and still is to deal with the loss of my mom, the things I have gained through this experience make the dark side seem a little brighter. Nothing will ever replace my mother, and nothing will ever heal the wound that her death has caused, but there are some things that have made it easier on the way and opened my eyes and heart to faith.

Sometimes, I wonder what my mother thinks of me today. If she watches my every move, if she ever tries to communicate with me and I just don't pay close enough attention to notice. I wonder if she cares about Jordan, and if she were still alive, would she treat him as her own son.

I wonder if she knows how much I miss her, and that no matter if she were here with us today or not, I will continue to love her and keep her in my heart until the day I die.

I know

I know I haven't blogged in forever. I started a new job and summer school fired up and with working from 8-5 everyday while juggling 2 courses at the same I haven't been able to find the time to get back on the blogging bandwagon. I'll probably continue my hiatus until mid August, but I am going to try my hardest to squeeze in a few posts before then.

Key word here is try.

Sorry for the absence. I know how devastating this will be for you, but if we manage, I believe we can get through this together.

Adios,

Shirley