and where on earth did September go?

....because who doesn't like cookies? I made a single batch yesterday. The tripled recipe is ingrained in my head, I admit to having to divide by three when I make this small little amount. But we no longer need the vast volume of cookies! As it is, I give them away. Anne's dad came to pick her up, he got a baggie of cookies. The girl who drives Sonja K. to her school/hospital program every day, a baggy for her. I didn't eat any, which is hard, but. No cookie dough, either.

I just finished a good book, Small Great Things, by Jodi Picoult. It made me cry a few times, and it made me miss my mother. Sometimes, out of the blue, something makes me miss her so much it hurts. I am so much like her. If I could go back in time, I would apologize for holding her at arm's length, for not letting her get closer. I felt the need to be my own person, to make my own decisions, to appear strong when I should have just cried and let her see it. I didn't properly acknowledge her hurts, instead I encouraged her to bear them and be good. My father was a jerk to her in so many ways, should have hugged and comforted her. I'm lonely without her, because she was my friend. She cared about the details in a way that no one else does. We never ever ran out of things to talk about. When I think about her having kidney dialysis for NINE YEARS, three times a week, every single week...486 weeks, 1,404 sessions of sitting there for five hours, needle in the arm. I visited her there: once. Once. Granted, when she started dialysis, I had nine children, oldest one 12, and when she died, I had fifteen children, the youngest, baby Charlotte, only a few months old, so I WAS a little busy.

Even with her failing health, she managed to help me so much. She didn't come and clean my house or take my kids on overnights, (Well, years ago maybe, with the older ones..). She didn't have the strength for that. Dialysis saps you. It took a mighty toll on her heart. You wouldn't know it, being with her, how weak she was. She lived for years with the spectre of heart failure, leaving dialysis several times in an ambulance, not knowing if she was strong enough to continue with it. It did wear her out. But when you were with her, or talking to her, she KNEW you. She remembered everything about each of my kids, and she could talk to anyone about anything. She connected to people. I remember dying a million deaths one time when I was a freshmen in high school, and I saw a girl from school in K-Mart. I mentioned that I knew her, but this girl was popular, and pretty, and didn't know me from a hole in the wall. My mother, yes she did, said, "Hi! I'm Della's mom!" The girl just looked at me, and said hi, and I seriously died those million deaths.

Anyway. I miss her. She was the grandma who had the patience to read ten storybooks, and to sit in the van with the kids so I could just run into places without unbuckling six car seats. She would tell the kids stories, and sing songs with them, and she always had some sort of treats in her purse.

So it's October now, and those leaves are getting mighty pretty. This weekend, our plans are firming up, we're going to Virginia! Mirielle has found us a nice Airbnb, and we get to see Sam and Grace and little Grant! Sunday, we're visiting friends in Delaware and going to a meeting there. :)