Thursday, April 29, 2010

Her.

Today I woke up and saw the sun. Hi sun, thank you for coming to join us this morning. Jesus, thank you for sun. I had a six miler ahead of me today. Flat, that is what I wanted, so I layered up and went to Alki. As I started my legs felt heavy, uh oh. This is going to be harder then I wanted. As I prayed to "please make this go fast" I felt the wind hit me straight in the face. Great. But as I plowed through one mile then two, I started to think how I would write this post. What do you say or write about something that only you and a couple others feel? How do you convey your emotions the way she would have wanted you to? But as mile three and four passed I couldn't figure it out. So then I just figured I would jot down some thoughts that have come across my mind for the last week in preparation for this day. These moments come across my mind here and there throughout the years, almost always bringing me to tears and smiles. So here are a few things I have thought about in the remembrance of her birthday:

1. I clearly remember the door opening to my bedroom one winter Saturday, still dark outside the hall light was too bright for my eyes to stay closed anymore. As I opened them, I saw her standing there, tall and lean, hair in a pony, PJ's still on. "Shelby do you want to go shopping today? Just you and me?" As soon as I heard that I was up brushing me teeth wide eyed and bushy tailed. We ate every meal together that day, just the two of us. I got a pair of blue keds that she asked if I wanted. That day it was just her and I.

2. She promised her friend Cheryl that when she got better they were going to train and compete in the Ironman Triathlon. THE only race that will push you past your limits, she was ready to take on head first. The day after she went to be with Jesus, Cheryl hopped in the pool and swam. This was her first day of training for the Ironman. Cheryl not only trained but competed in the furthest death defying race one can compete in. She crossed the finish line that day threw her hands in the air and sobbed. Later that week she gave her Ironman medal, the only tangible thing she had to say that she had completed this to Katie and I. "You girls deserve this," she told us.

3. She would come home from long 60-80 mile bike rides, we would run in the garage to come and say hi. She would always wait to take of her sunglasses until we were with her, because she knew how cool we thought it was to see the salt build up she had on her nose. We didn't know why she got that, but we knew it was because she worked hard and pushed herself to the limits.

4. The week before she died I watched as she climbed out of bed, with just a shirt and undies on. As I turned and looked I was shocked at what I saw. He legs were as thin as my arms. And as I started at what should have been strong powerful legs that had biked, ran and swam almost everyday for the last 15 years, all I saw was something that was so alien to me. When she did die I thought about how happy she was to get her body back in Heaven, in one piece, full of life.

There are so many more memories that flood my brain with emotions. But today those are the ones you should know about.

She, my mom, would have been 50. I miss her more and more as each day goes on. But the fact of the matter is she wouldn't want us to sit and be sad. So we won't. We will run, and laugh and live life. She has the best seat in the house to watch us live. We will continue to run after Jesus, because we know that is what she wanted us to do.

Have a fun party today mom. We are going to go and eat Spud now. Love you.

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