$35 Well Spent

Despite the massive, Terri-sized hole in my life, I am trying hard (key word trying) to focus on the good memories when I can. It sucks being so damn depressed all the time, but let me tell you – it’s really hard to pull yourself out of an anxiety-filled funk once it sucks you in, even if it is for the good stuff.

I have SO many great memories with mom. Sooommmme not so great ones too, and even some that, at the time, felt trivial and unimportant.

But while watching the Packer game yesterday (and silently swearing through the entire second half) I thought of one memory in particular that made me smile. In the moment, it was really, really funny. It was one of those bent over with stomach pains while snorting because you’re laughing so hard kind of moments… those were always my favorite. After it happened we never really talked about it again, but now looking back, I cherish this moment I had with her and wish that I could have a million more just like it. But since I can’t, I will share it with you all instead in hopes that you smile and think of her today.

It all started with a little trip to Sendick’s grocery store.

I know, riveting, right?

This story makes me smile for two very important reasons, and both of them are SOOOO Terri.

I have no idea why we went to the store. I was home for the weekend and I am assuming we were getting something for dinner. After we parked and started walking into the store, I realized I had left my ID in the car (I needed to stock up on my Spotted Cow supply obviously) so I ran back to get it. When I walked through the second set of automatic doors, I remember seeing this movement out of the corner of my eye and thereeeeee she was…

Yup, there she was in all of her glory - weaving in and out of the wine aisles (while humming the tune of the wicked witch in Wizard of Oz) driving straight at me on a MOTORIZED CART. At some point during the three minutes we were apart, she came up with the genius idea to hijack a riding shopping cart and terrorize everyone in the store.

My first thought?

Completely mortified, slightly annoyed.

But then I laughed. I laughed so, sooo hard while standing there in the middle of the bakery section waiting for her to return the stolen property and find her way back to me. The best part though, was how hard she laughed. If you have ever experienced a Terri laughing outburst (it sounds something like a cross between a parrot and a extremely loud hyena) then you can imagine how many people were staring at us. But she loved every single second of it.

The second reason why this story is important (and how this blog comes full circle) is what happened next.

Mom was always known for her impulse buys… the cat clock for Charlie and Hailee, the saddle shoes she just had to have, and her many, many, many ridiculous Amazon purchases. She was really good at finding the weirdest shit. And let me tell you – dad loved it. 🙄

So any-who, we made our rounds past the meat counter and veggie section, and as we headed to the register she found something that she just could NOT live without…

A “special edition” bottle of wine with the Packer’s logo engraved on it.

Now, I am pretty sure that the only thing that was special about it was the big ass G on the label, but other than that… nothing. And there she was, throwing a tiny Terri tantrum in the middle of the store, insisting that she spend $35 DOLLARS on this must-have purchase. Now, I drink enough wine that it is on rare occasions that I will splurge on a good bottle (and I’m talking like $12 here). But I kid you not, she dropped $35 on this no-name bottle of “red blend” because of the stupid logo.

Why you ask? Because we were going to drink it when the Packers won the SUPER BOWL, and not a moment sooner. Unfortunately, it was still pre-season and we had yet to learn the fate of our beloved Pack that year. Yes, I am referring to 2017 and Rodgers’ heartbreaking, season-ending collarbone injury… a moment of silence, please.

Alas, as you all remember, the Packers did not win the super bowl that year, orrrrr the next year. And to this day, that precious bottle sits propped upside-down in its “drunken bear” wine holder on our kitchen counter.

Memories like this make me smile. I think of her crazy ideas that (almost always) left me completely embarrassed and slightly annoyed, and my heart feels lighter – even if just for a moment. What I would give to have her drive me crazy for one more day. I smile when I think about how much she loved life, how much she loved having a reason to celebrate literally anything, and how much she loved spending time with me.

She also really loved the Packers. Well any Wisconsin team, but most definitely the Packers. She loved being surrounded by fellow Sconnies on Sundays… it just so happened that she preferred to do it with a bloody mary instead of the Virgin Mary, but hey, who am I to judge. Most weeks you could find her at a Packer party – whether it was at a bar with friends, with the “golden girls” at one of their houses, or at the Tobin’s - she always knew how to find a good time.

And if for some reason she wasn’t out and about, you could find her at home with dad, watching the game while sitting on the floor - a glass of wine in her hand and Izzy’s big head in her lap.

Sounds pretty peaceful, right?

Wrong.

Watching any sporting event with ole’ Davey is extremely painful. He is loud and animated and literally yells after every play – even if it’s a good one. And after a bad one? Welp, there goes the season.

<Rodgers throws an interception>
“God damnit, who the hell are you throwing to? You just blew the season, way to go you f**king idiot. What are we paying you for?!?”

Mom always sent me updates like that via text message during the games – and during that 2017 season her interpretation of dad was usually more entertaining than the game itself. She secretly referred to him as “Davey Downer” on game days, and I feel OK calling him out here because I know he will never read this. 😊

Much of mom’s last Packer season, however, was spent at home with a (calmish) dad and Izzy. Most of her Sundays were spent curled up on the couch next to a roaring fire, pumped full of morphine and her radiation “glow” as she kinda-sorta cheered them on. It was rare if she made it through a whole game, and if she did, there were no goofy texts. There were no late-night Sunday calls, and there were no jokes about dad. I would always wait 30 min after each game and call the house in hopes of catching her awake... also a rarity.

I really miss her.

That’s basically the moral of this really long, blabbering blog. I just miss her.

I miss hearing her laugh, I miss her stupid antics and her love for life. I even miss how much she drove me crazy with most of them. I miss her and still can’t believe that she is gone, that I will never get another Packer text update or another Sunday night phone call. I will never get to see her do her annoying “woo woo woo” arm pup after a win (envision Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman at the horse track, and then multiply the obnoxiousness by 100), or see a game at Lambeau with her again.

And I will never get to share that bottle of (most likely terrible) red wine with her when the Packers (and yes, I am putting it out there universe) win the super bowl this year.

So, when it happens, if any of you want to head over to Beaufort drive, we can open that $35 dollars well spent and celebrate in her honor.

Oh, and hey mom? If you have any pull with the big man upstairs, can you tell him that we all like really, really would love the chance to do that? Thanks, you’re the best.

xoxo