Groovy


Holy mother.

It's been nine years since my mom passed away. I miss her like a mother. I know she's not here anymore, but I often wonder to myself, "Where are you, exactly?"

Neither here nor there. Maybe everywhere.

I see photos of my mom when she was younger, and her style was groovy as hell. Always, always red lipstick. When she was younger-- pin-straight, long dark hair. Permed in the 80's, a shaggy, piecey, layered cut. So textured and boho. And then later, cut to her chin, warm golden brown color, super chic. Always, always red-painted fingernails to match her lipstick. I love that. So damn BOLD.

I seriously miss her tons. I wish I had her boldness. I didn't inherit that. I'm meek as a mouse. Life lesson: be bolder. Stop caring about what everyone thinks about me. Only I am me. So I must be me as best as I can.

Shine bright like a mother.

Nine years, holy shitballs. Sometimes it feels like she just left yesterday, sometimes it does feel like years. I think time has numbed the pain, but I will never get over it.

I'm never going to get over it. That's ok too.

I'm just going to call my grandma. Cry. Feel sad. Hug my cat. Hug my husband. Post about my feelings. And then, put on some red lipstick, feel like a boss ass bish, and get on with it. Thanks, moth. I love you and miss you forever.

-j

thank you, love you, xoxo ✨

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