18 years today since my mom passed. Fuckin cancer.
Did a 12 hour shift, and went to the cemetery. Glad I tied my boots or I would’ve lost one or both in the mud.
Looking through a few old photos and crying into my wine. Fuckin Irish.
Here’s her with my dad and my son, Andrew. She was a few months into chemo here.
I have 4 brothers, so 5 boys, no sisters. I think if I or any of my younger brothers had been a girl, they would’ve stopped there. Maybe not lol fuckin Catholics.
When Andrew was born, we sent a pic of my mom holding baby Drew to her two brothers, they both responded with “ Janet always looked great holding a baby boy.” I was 20 when I learned I was to be a father. Knew Erin for 4 months. My dad got kinda hardass old US Marine when I told him. Not quite yelling, but laying down some hard truths about what is expected of a man in such a position. My mom almost immediately started shopping for clothes. This was shortly after her diagnosis. She was ecstatic. Earlier stuff she bought was yellow and green, once we knew we were having a boy, it was all blue stuff.
I wasn’t actively trying to conceive at 20 years old, but I’m happy I made her a grandmother before she died. It made her happy, and Baby Drew was a sure fire way to brighten her day when she wasn’t feeling good.