It's the Little Things

                                           Today , as I was cleaning the floor around my dining room table from the post-birthday festivities of yesterday, I saw a white box. It was a box that was left out from my Christmas organizing a few weeks ago, and I had obviously shoved it into the corner of the very rarely used dining room and completely forgotten about it.  There was something about this box that stopped me and my Shark floor steamer in my tracks. It said, in beautiful flowery handwriting "Joyce". I realized I had all but forgotten what my mother's handwriting looks like. I stared at it for a minute , ran my finger over it, and sat down on the dining room chair that used to be hers as well. I'm forgetting so much. So much of the little things, like her handwriting.  There have been random moments over the years since her death that something I see or hear stops me in my tracks. Something that makes me breathe in sharply, stop for a minute and then go about my business. These moments are not something I dread or hate , they are the moments that bring me back to Earth . They make me realize what I have lost, and that now it is me who is making memories that my children will have always. That it is my name someone will someday see on a box, shoved haphazardly in the corner and they will stop and smile. At least I hope they will stop and smile. I hope I am doing as great a job as she did. I hope these moments do not stop coming for me, I hope the name "Joyce" continues to appear where and when I least expect it bringing me back to the realization of how much I miss her, and need to remember her , even if it's just flowery handwriting on a box.