I finally get it! It’s taken some time, and I know you’ve been gone over three years now, but I can finally say I understand some of your quirky habits that we often teased you about. I guess life just has a way of teaching us those lessons, no matter how hard we fight back. We all swear that we will never be like our parents. We are so much cooler! WE will age differently. And then the years pile on. And then our own children begin to make fun of our quicky habits. And the cycle continues.

Let’s start with bedtime. I truly apologize for making fun of you for going to bed so early. While I still do not think the 6:00 pm bedtimes of your later years will ever appeal to me, 8:00 pm is sounding better and better. Right now I work hard to stretch it to 9:00, but admittedly, there are many nights that I am counting the minutes down until I can crawl into bed with a good book. There is just something about that quiet space at the end of the day that brings me peace. Speaking of quiet, I never really understood why you cherished the quiet moments so much; I get that now, too.

The next thing I should apologize for is giving you a hard time about staying home so much, and about making a quick <unannounced> exit when you were ready to leave. There were many times that the kids and I would chase you down the driveway to your car to tell you goodbye. When you were ready to go, you went. No sappy goodbyes. No last cuddles with the little ones. You grabbed your purse and your coat, and out you went. At this point I still tell everyone goodbye, but when I am ready to be home, I just have to leave. And home is my favorite place to be! I think the fact that I enjoy my home so much is part of the reason I enjoy helping others find their perfect homes, or making their current homes perfect for them. I believe everyone deserves a home they love, just as you loved your home. Those last three weeks, you told me over and over how much you missed Rose Lane. I still drive by your house just to make sure the new owners are taking care of the place you so loved.

Food. This has always, always been an issue in the Allen family (the Greenlands just ate the good stuff, and then died young). For years I watched as you tried various diets, including your Nutrisystem years. Bobbi, Bruce, and I would giggle as you got on yet another exercise kick (we would also wait to see when you would be finished with that kick so someone <me> could have your discarded equipment). I don’t know if I ever told you, but I was impressed that you always wanted to make sure you moved every day. Whether it was bouncing on your mini-tramp back in the day, an aerobics video in the Jane Fonda era, your exercise bike, or daily walks around the neighborhood, I am so glad you chose to model movement. Then that wasn’t enough, and in an effort to stay at a weight you were happy with, you ate less and less. At holidays your plate would have a little spoonful (I am talking a teaspoon – not a serving spoon) of each food. I GET IT NOW! Now that I am approaching 60 (geez, it’s hard to even write that!), I get it. It seems I can no longer eat like a normal human. I’ve tried it, and this school year I have gained ten pounds. When I am dedicated to Weight Watchers, I am able to maintain that ten pound gain, if I go over my points at all, I gain more. It makes me unhappy, just as I know it made you unhappy, and I believe that your mother was the same. Generational discontent. So now I understand why you kept to your bite-size portions, and even though back then I thought I would NEVER live my life like that, I now see it as a real possibility. Today I went out to do a two-mile run, which I considered an easy run just a couple years ago, but with the extra pounds, I could barely do it, and had to take some walk breaks. Oh, I have my days when I think Screw it! I am just going to be a lil chunky and enjoy the good stuff! And then I remember that I already have heart disease, and I need to do everything I can to keep my heart healthy, which includes staying at a healthy weight. It sucks. You didn’t tell me how hard it would be.

Life without my mother is certainly different. I miss you every day. Perhaps as you watch down and see me slowly morph into you, you will get some satisfaction watching me eat my words. At least that’s one thing I can eat without gaining weight!