An open letter to my Mom on her 65th birthday

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Inevitably, the days dwindled down to what I knew today was coming, your 65th birthday that we are unable to celebrate with you. I woke up today feeling blank, sad but blank. I cried some at the thought of how much I miss you and didn’t want to get out of bed. I decided to make my homemade pancakes that you loved and I sprinkled a dash of salt into my coffee because you always said it cut out the bitterness. I can’t say that I could really tell the difference but I believe you anyway. You would’ve been 65 today, too young for me to be saying, “would’ve been”. I remember thinking last Christmas, how I didn’t know how much longer I’d have you and I can’t even believe a year has passed since that thought.

I had a vision of you the other day in your better health. I imagined you walking through the front door of our house bundled up in your scarf and winter jacket talking about how cold it was outside as you shook off the snow. You walked throughout the house with me and said you loved what we had done with the place, all the work we put in to renovating and decorating. You loved that it was a ranch and that the washer and dryer was on the first floor and that it had no stairs except for the set that lead to the basement because you always hated stairs. The only gripe you had was the detached garage, which I knew you’d say but that’s okay.

Your absence was felt through the holidays, we made it through but you were always the glue, the centripetal force that kept us together. Turns out, I am not a very good host – I am not social like you were in the sense that you could easily have a conversation with anybody about anything, my meals don’t turn out as delicious as yours were and dinner is never ready on time, though I try. But you know me, I misread and don’t follow directions very well in turn creating more work for myself. While it’s on my mind, I wish I made you more chocolate chip cookies by the way and I am very sorry for that.

I am struggling to plan my wedding, I’ve barely started really. You said that you would be there and that I wouldn’t have anything to worry about. But you’re not here anymore and you won’t be there, not the way I want you to be. I remember you were so stressed out about what you were going to wear. I told you that it didn’t matter, and you would look great in whatever you decided. I am saddened at the thought of possibly becoming a mother one day and not having you there to coach me. I still remember how you cried when you told me that more than anything, you’ve always wanted to be there for me when that day comes. How after the baby, you wanted to come stay with me so that you could get up with them throughout the night so I could heal and rest. You cried because you felt yourself getting weaker, you said you didn’t think you could even hold a baby at that point then. I fought back my tears and hugged you, I told you that wasn’t true. I didn’t want to believe it. I never cried in front of you because I never wanted to appear weak, I knew I had to be strong for you and keep high hopes, not just for you but for all of us. I never gave up hope on you, not even on your last day. I hope that when or if that time comes, that I have a little girl someday like you had me and she and I are as close as we were. But regardless of what I have, I will tell them all about you, they will know you and how incredible of a mother you were. You loved your kids and wished so badly that you had the opportunity to stay home with us when we were young, you loved being a mother and I loved that about you. You have made me so compassionate and strong that I can only hope that I measure up to half of your being someday. On my toughest days, I miss you something fierce but I think about how strong you always were. Life could be so unkind and unfair and you were living proof of that. But you went through the motions each day and kept putting one foot forward. I hope to continue to be as strong as you were and that you are proud of me because I still live my life to not disappoint you.

While 2017 had a couple shining highlights, it was an extremely life changing and difficult year, it took you. I’ve stumbled across a quote a few times that read, “My mother worked too hard for me not to be great,” so Momma, I’m going to use this quote as my motivation for 2018. To figure my shit out, become more organized and finish this f*cking book, maybe if I’m lucky it’ll be two books… but I don’t want to aim too high because you know how much of a procrastinator I am.

I have a million more things that I could add to this and I’ll probably drive myself nuts later with things I should’ve said on here but this is what I came up with today.

Happy birthday to my wonderful mother, you are incredibly loved and missed each and every passing day.

Julie Ann Lipson-Peters (12/30/52 – 4/6/17)

Love, Krissy


Welcome! Read a little about me here…

Welcome to my new website! I’m super excited to finally see everything coming together. We all have so many thoughts and ideas that float around in our heads but often we never act on bringing them to life. My journey with writing started about five years ago. I was an avid book reader and was soon developing my own ideas. I had one particular story idea in my head that would not go away so I began writing and it just poured out of me, it was great! Unfortunately, I only made it about a third of the way through when it got put on hold. I had no idea the next few years of my life would change so drastically.

Challenging life lessons and obstacles took over… I moved, my relationship with a long time boyfriend ended, I changed careers, my mom got ill and I became her caretaker, my dad passed away,  and nine months later my mom sadly passed too… All in the matter of 3 1/2 years! But you guys, this wasn’t even the half of it. That was only a short time frame I shared, which of course didn’t feel like it was short at the time. I developed anxiety as a child, something that progressively got worse as I got older and later turned into episodes of panic attacks and depression… which led to counseling sessions and different medications. My parents divorced when I was eight, my father suffered from alcoholism which is eventually what led to his death, my mother had cancer when I was five, she survived and we were blessed to get another 20+ years with her but that also is what eventually led to her death. Again, this is just a few more things that happened as I was growing up and there is so much more.

I felt defeated and I didn’t know how I was going to do life. Amidst all of this, every day… every single damn day I thought about writing. I didn’t do it and apart of me regrets that but at the same time, I told myself that maybe it just wasn’t the time to tell my story. My life has never been what I would call boring, in fact I would call it eventful and not always in a good way. I often questioned the meaning of life, asking myself: Why is this happening? Why does God hate me? Why am I here? What is my purpose? Will things ever get better? I often thought of my life as sad because I just couldn’t wrap my head around why all these bad things were happening.

Despite all of this, I did have something good happen to me. I met my now fiance Jon through my job of all places! He is my opposite. I am a homebody, he is not. I tend to stay in my comfort zone, he does not. He’s traveled the world, I have not. We balance each other out in the end, he’s settled down a bit since we’ve been together but he still pushes me outside of comfort zone. Speaking of pushing, he pushes my damn buttons every day too (inside joke!). My point is that he entered my life before shit really hit the fan with my mom. When she became ill, the thought of our future together was the only thing that kept me sane and hanging on. Things happen for a reason…

After all of this time, I finally found my passion. I’ve let my anxiety issues hold me back from too many things but I’ve finally reached a point where I know how to manage it. My life lessons have taught me so much and I believe that sharing them through my writing is what I was meant to do. I want you to know that if you are going through something difficult, you WILL get through it. I am not so afraid of life anymore, not like I used to be. Challenging experiences change you, especially death. Rather than letting it consume me whole, I grew from it and have learned to be more fearless. So here I am, pursuing my dreams! I hope you continue to follow me to keep up with my journey and stay tuned for more posts! I can’t wait to share my work with all of you.

Love to all.