A Force to be Reckoned With
Its been 4 years since Momma Jo died.
I really miss her.
She had been in my life and a huge part of my life, moreso than my mother was. Jo was the one who came to the new house, and helped celebrate Brian and I having our first house. She enjoyed coming down from Buffalo, to hang out with us, or to take part in a volunteer event at the Moose Lodge. Regardless, we always had a pattern. Mom would purposely arrive before evening rush hour. We had planned to be able to hit the moose after her arrival. We had to quench our lips with a cold beverage. Some times it was vodka, with Orange Juice or bloody mary mix. We could drink all day long and have a blast. It was nice having her here, on my side.
After Brian died, I saw a new Jo. It was haunting, like part of her soul died with Brian. I saw her slowly die. She gave up, much earlier than when she had the stroke. I know she tried to stay busy, tried to get out of the house, and stay active. She really did try, but with each day she lived, she felt worse. She knew that her son, Brian, should not be dead. She was supposed to die before her children. They, Brian and Jo, were very close and had a different connection than the rest of her kids. She depended and leaned on Brian. She respected him and was so proud of him. She would beam with pride when she would go with him to work at the pentagon, and his bosses would tell her of how much of an asset Brian was to the department. She would come home and recite word for word, all of the kudos that was given to her son. Those were the times that he was her son, not my husband.
She missed those times. She wanted so much to see him, and to hear all of the good things he was doing. She missed those times when she would go out to lunch with Brian, just to chat and chill out. They would order beers, and talk about his brother and sister. Get the latest updates about the gossip. Brian loved his gossip and so did Jo. Them two would sit for hours, talking about family, old friends and just life in general. He would try to complain about how annoying she was at times, or how he needed a night away when she would stay for a few weeks. I was the one telling Brian to tell his mother to start driving and she would be here in time for Friday night at the moose. Sometimes he needed help reading between the lines, when Jo would hint that she was broke, and couldn't even make the drive down. He would get her to come down that day. Spontaneous and she loved it. There were so many weekends, where the plans would be in place Thursday night. PErsonally I think she kept packed suitcases in her trunk, which would be rotated out when the weather changed. You think I'm joking. He would tell her to give him a call when she was out of Buffalo and on her way, I swear not even two hours later, she would be calling him, saying she was almost home. She would then walk in the front door, Bryant and Brian would get her 5 suitcases and her cooler full of food. Yes food. She brought food that can only be sold in Buffalo NY. Like they dont have the same bread dow =n here.
I really miss her.
She had been in my life and a huge part of my life, moreso than my mother was. Jo was the one who came to the new house, and helped celebrate Brian and I having our first house. She enjoyed coming down from Buffalo, to hang out with us, or to take part in a volunteer event at the Moose Lodge. Regardless, we always had a pattern. Mom would purposely arrive before evening rush hour. We had planned to be able to hit the moose after her arrival. We had to quench our lips with a cold beverage. Some times it was vodka, with Orange Juice or bloody mary mix. We could drink all day long and have a blast. It was nice having her here, on my side.
After Brian died, I saw a new Jo. It was haunting, like part of her soul died with Brian. I saw her slowly die. She gave up, much earlier than when she had the stroke. I know she tried to stay busy, tried to get out of the house, and stay active. She really did try, but with each day she lived, she felt worse. She knew that her son, Brian, should not be dead. She was supposed to die before her children. They, Brian and Jo, were very close and had a different connection than the rest of her kids. She depended and leaned on Brian. She respected him and was so proud of him. She would beam with pride when she would go with him to work at the pentagon, and his bosses would tell her of how much of an asset Brian was to the department. She would come home and recite word for word, all of the kudos that was given to her son. Those were the times that he was her son, not my husband.
She missed those times. She wanted so much to see him, and to hear all of the good things he was doing. She missed those times when she would go out to lunch with Brian, just to chat and chill out. They would order beers, and talk about his brother and sister. Get the latest updates about the gossip. Brian loved his gossip and so did Jo. Them two would sit for hours, talking about family, old friends and just life in general. He would try to complain about how annoying she was at times, or how he needed a night away when she would stay for a few weeks. I was the one telling Brian to tell his mother to start driving and she would be here in time for Friday night at the moose. Sometimes he needed help reading between the lines, when Jo would hint that she was broke, and couldn't even make the drive down. He would get her to come down that day. Spontaneous and she loved it. There were so many weekends, where the plans would be in place Thursday night. PErsonally I think she kept packed suitcases in her trunk, which would be rotated out when the weather changed. You think I'm joking. He would tell her to give him a call when she was out of Buffalo and on her way, I swear not even two hours later, she would be calling him, saying she was almost home. She would then walk in the front door, Bryant and Brian would get her 5 suitcases and her cooler full of food. Yes food. She brought food that can only be sold in Buffalo NY. Like they dont have the same bread dow =n here.
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