June 14th, 2010 – Six Months

Today, June 14th, has been six months since mom passed away.

Hard to believe it’s been that long. Sometimes harder to believe it hasn’t been longer.

There are a number of images of mom in my head that I can see any time I want to, whether my eyes are closed or not. I thought I would share a few in memory on this day.

Mom and I had a ritual almost every night in Houston. If she were in the hospital, she’d get annoyed because I often wouldn’t want to leave without her saying a catch phrase or some other exchange that we had developed over the time we’d been there – and some even from over the course of my life that still played in.

However, whenever she was an outpatient and we were at Bev’s, at night she would be wrapped up in her sheets, and sometimes only her head or even half the top of her head would be poking out. It was always funny, usually we would laugh about it, and then she would flash a peace sign (which she only started doing about four or five years ago when I explained that to some, the “peace” sign made with your hand actually means “victory”). Sometimes she would do Spock’s hand sign, and occasionally say “live long and prosper.” “You, too,” was my response. I could go on and on about rituals before I’d leave her for the night… but the image here that really sticks in my head is one where she is laying in her bed, the night stand light is on, and her eyes are closed. She’s smiling. That’s it.

I’ll never forget it.

The other thought I would like to share is new. Some of my friends know that over the years I have had dreams that I can recall with startling detail. The texture of people’s clothing or the wallpaper in a room are firm memories of dreams I had over a decade ago. I could film in great detail some of the recurring dreams I had as a child and haven’t dreamed in years, for example… even to this day.

I woke up this morning and sat at my computer. I’m not sure what did it, but something reminded me of a dream I had last night. In it, at a point, I was hugging mom. My right hand was reaching around her neck and resting on part of her arm that was below the sleeve of the (red, I believe) shirt she was wearing. I can recall, so vividly, what it felt like to touch her skin… it’s temperature… it’s texture.

I was crying in the dream, hugging her tightly, but so very aware that I was touching her skin. I feel like it was a moment where I knew I only had a moment with her before she had to go. It was so real, and in it’s way of course it made me remarkably happy (and still does). We were standing in the living room at home. A soft afternoon light was coming in through the window.

I’d like to stop there and just ask everyone to think of a memory of someone they love that’s far away or no longer around.

Thanks everyone for your continued support.




Additionally, on Sunday, July 25th there will be a gathering to celebrate mom’s birthday. She would have been 59 on the 27th.

It’s from 4-7pm at the Lake Murray Convention Center located at 1019 St Peters Church Rd in Lexington, SC.

You may bring finger food if you like, but it is not necessary.

We would like for you to share your favorite memory of Joellen. Please do let others know who you know may want to join us.

Come join us in celebration of a remarkable life!

You may contact George Cannon at 803.603.0032 or Glenna Minor at 803.960.5374.

Warm regards,


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