I took my seventh-grade daughter to the mall yesterday. Please note that I love shopping so when I had her I assumed we would be shopping buddies. See the picture of us when she was 18 days old at Nordstrom? This was to be the first of many fun shopping experiences for us, right?
Sadly, it was not meant to be.
I cannot stand shopping with her. Until last year, she was a total tomboy and couldn’t be bothered so that was kinda sad, but be careful what you wish for because now that she has gone girly on me, pretty much all I do is follow her around and pay. Well actually that’s not entirely true, I also argue with her about what I think she needs vs. wants, prices, and whether or not something is age appropriate. Granted she is 5’8 and 120 pounds so the clothes that fit skew older, but I’m sorry, you are still 12.
Suffice it to say we struggle. What I imagined would be one of our favorite activities is full of tension. So yesterday as I waited outside the dressing room in Hollister with the other moms waiting to pay I started to get annoyed. I thought back to how last Friday night we drove over an hour to replace her Brandy Melville backpack, and last Saturday we had to shop for new basketball shorts cuz she grows like a weed and gawd forbid they don’t hang to her knees baller style, and here we were again, spending Saturday afternoon at the mall looking for just the right shoes for her ever growing clod hoppers, as well as the perfect bathing suit bottoms. UGH!
And then I remembered what day it was. A memorial was being held that day in Eugene Oregon for Missy Davies, one of my sister and brother in law’s dear friends. She recently lost her battle with cancer. She was an amazing woman and she fought hard because she had a beautiful life and family to fight for. Her kids and her husband adored her. She was truly someone to look up to in the mom department.
And she was gone.
She no longer GETS to go to Hollister with her daughter to fight about how tight the jeans are.
She doesn’t GET to drive over an hour to take her girl to Brandy Melville.
She doesn’t GET to buy the basketball shorts, or see her kid play in them ever again.
And I do. And for that I am so very grateful.
I know we’ll be shopping again soon enough, and I know I’ll get annoyed.
But from now on I will also try and remember how lucky I am to actually be there to do so.
RIP Sweet Melissa
#family #lovemykids #hatecancer