I'm watching Disney's 60th celebration when Kermit THE Frog comes on to sing "Rainbow Connection", and I find the tears I thought would stay away today. I've been crying for days. Every little thing is reminding me of mom. In her last days, I played this song at her bedside on repeat. It made her relax, and something about it made me relax too. She was slipping away and I was grasping for anything and everything that would bring her back just a little bit.
This month has been difficult all month long. It's six months since she passed. I thought of her on Valentine's, she was always our Valentine growing up. She would buy us little heart candies, and cards, and flowers. She was such a sweet momma. And I think the biggest mountain for me to climb is her birthday in a few days, and then mine. My first birthday without her. It's birthday week. We always celebrated together. I wish we had more birthdays together. I wish we had more valentines to send. I wish we had more songs to sing.
Sunday, February 21, 2016
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
Six months gone...
February is birthday month. I have weird feelings about it this year. How strange will it be to get to mom's birthday, and mine two days later without her being here?
Today marks six months since she left us. Today we're sitting in the middle of a blizzard. She died during the sweltering heat of August. She would have liked to see all the snow. The piles of snow are watering the sleeping bulbs we gave away at her memorial. I'm so looking forward to spring, to see mom's flowers return and bloom.
I had a dream with her last night. She came to listen to me gripe. She listened to all my complaints, and egged me on with the good bits, and tried to make me see the other side of things too. She was always good like that. The best person to talk to about anything and everything.
At the end of my dream, I broke down crying and asked her to please not leave. I told her it's been six months today but feels like a hundred years. I told her, it's birthday month, we need to celebrate. Please don't go again. She hugged me and gave me a kiss on my head, and I woke up with tears running out the sides of my eyes.
Today marks six months since she left us. Today we're sitting in the middle of a blizzard. She died during the sweltering heat of August. She would have liked to see all the snow. The piles of snow are watering the sleeping bulbs we gave away at her memorial. I'm so looking forward to spring, to see mom's flowers return and bloom.
I had a dream with her last night. She came to listen to me gripe. She listened to all my complaints, and egged me on with the good bits, and tried to make me see the other side of things too. She was always good like that. The best person to talk to about anything and everything.
At the end of my dream, I broke down crying and asked her to please not leave. I told her it's been six months today but feels like a hundred years. I told her, it's birthday month, we need to celebrate. Please don't go again. She hugged me and gave me a kiss on my head, and I woke up with tears running out the sides of my eyes.
Sunday, January 10, 2016
Separation anxiety...
When I was a child, I had terrible separation anxiety. I hated saying good-bye to anyone. When we had to leave our grandparents, I would beg for just a few more minutes. Another story, another hug.
But there was no worse separation for me than from my momma. Kindergarten was my first experience of being let off without my tribe, and I started it with great, huge, crocodile tears. I hated it. Mom would sit outside the door waiting to see if I was going to make myself sick with worry that she wouldn't come back. It was always at the first of school. As the school year wore on, I was able to go into my class without sobs and hiccups for the first hour of school.
Sleepovers were always interrupted because I had to go back home. The only safe places I could stay overnight was with family, because at least it was familiar. But I never liked being apart from her for more than a couple of days.
I would write letters from camp, and call collect just to talk to her and tell her what an awful time I was having away from home. And she always told me I was going to be fine, and to have fun.
As an adult I would ask what was wrong with me? Why was I so attached? And she would say it was just as hard for her. And she would leave me and cry because I was so upset. My mom loved each of us kids absolutely with all her heart. That was her super-power. To make each of us feel as if we were the most important thing in the world to her.
I have been thinking this week about the feelings I've been feeling lately. We're past the holidays and the absence and void doesn't feel as immediate. Instead...I feel that separation and I just want her to come back. I know she isn't. I know that. I do. I simply find myself wishing for her.
I started watching the last season of Downton Abbey last week. We watched it together. We watched all the Masterpiece shows together. Even today I saw a preview for a new show coming on and I started to call her to tell her about it.
We're coming up on our birthdays. She wanted so much for me to be born on her birthday. Instead, I'm two days later. We always celebrated together. I feel it again, the separation...the pulling away. I know these feelings will get easier to deal with. I know I will continue to find my way through this. I just wish she could come and make the separation anxiety subside.
But there was no worse separation for me than from my momma. Kindergarten was my first experience of being let off without my tribe, and I started it with great, huge, crocodile tears. I hated it. Mom would sit outside the door waiting to see if I was going to make myself sick with worry that she wouldn't come back. It was always at the first of school. As the school year wore on, I was able to go into my class without sobs and hiccups for the first hour of school.
Sleepovers were always interrupted because I had to go back home. The only safe places I could stay overnight was with family, because at least it was familiar. But I never liked being apart from her for more than a couple of days.
I would write letters from camp, and call collect just to talk to her and tell her what an awful time I was having away from home. And she always told me I was going to be fine, and to have fun.
As an adult I would ask what was wrong with me? Why was I so attached? And she would say it was just as hard for her. And she would leave me and cry because I was so upset. My mom loved each of us kids absolutely with all her heart. That was her super-power. To make each of us feel as if we were the most important thing in the world to her.
I have been thinking this week about the feelings I've been feeling lately. We're past the holidays and the absence and void doesn't feel as immediate. Instead...I feel that separation and I just want her to come back. I know she isn't. I know that. I do. I simply find myself wishing for her.
I started watching the last season of Downton Abbey last week. We watched it together. We watched all the Masterpiece shows together. Even today I saw a preview for a new show coming on and I started to call her to tell her about it.
We're coming up on our birthdays. She wanted so much for me to be born on her birthday. Instead, I'm two days later. We always celebrated together. I feel it again, the separation...the pulling away. I know these feelings will get easier to deal with. I know I will continue to find my way through this. I just wish she could come and make the separation anxiety subside.
Sunday, January 3, 2016
Mind dump...
Today was the last day of the holiday break. The kids don't start back to school tomorrow, but therapies start back up and business starts back up. It's been nice to have a break to just be still. Sure it's boring at times, but I feel like all we've done since summer is go go go go go go go.
I was able to do a big cull of clothes today. I try to do this once a year and got rid of a lot this time around. There was nothing sentimental, which made it easier to do. The only thing that was somewhat sentimental was a shirt I wore to mom's memorial. I haven't worn it again and won't wear it again. So off it went.
It always feels good to get rid of things, clear things out. Mom was a notorious packrat, and something I've always tried to keep myself from being. I'm working on finding a special place for the things of hers I've kept. The guest room has a few of her things. And I want to make that a comforting place.
I'm trying to write every day to get things out of my head so I'm not up all night thinking and worrying. So for those of you who do still read this thing, get ready for a lot of mind dumps. I'm trying to get it all out so I don't keep it all in.
The past few nights I've dreamt of mom. They haven't been pleasant dreams. She's been dying and I've been trying to get to her to say goodbye. Last night it woke me up and I couldn't sleep for a chunk of the night upset about it. I suppose that's still part of it. The mind playing tricks on me in my sleep. I'm hoping tonight it's just quiet sleep without the upset.
I was able to do a big cull of clothes today. I try to do this once a year and got rid of a lot this time around. There was nothing sentimental, which made it easier to do. The only thing that was somewhat sentimental was a shirt I wore to mom's memorial. I haven't worn it again and won't wear it again. So off it went.
It always feels good to get rid of things, clear things out. Mom was a notorious packrat, and something I've always tried to keep myself from being. I'm working on finding a special place for the things of hers I've kept. The guest room has a few of her things. And I want to make that a comforting place.
I'm trying to write every day to get things out of my head so I'm not up all night thinking and worrying. So for those of you who do still read this thing, get ready for a lot of mind dumps. I'm trying to get it all out so I don't keep it all in.
The past few nights I've dreamt of mom. They haven't been pleasant dreams. She's been dying and I've been trying to get to her to say goodbye. Last night it woke me up and I couldn't sleep for a chunk of the night upset about it. I suppose that's still part of it. The mind playing tricks on me in my sleep. I'm hoping tonight it's just quiet sleep without the upset.
Saturday, January 2, 2016
Mom's quilts...
I found mom's quilts today. Well, actually they aren't her quilts and Steve found them. I always called them mom's quilts and he always knew which ones I was talking about. She loved them. Every time she would come to visit I would have the bed made with these quilts laid out for her. I had put them away at some point in the past year and just didn't know where they were, until they were found today clearing out the storage in the garage.
He opened the box and I gasped. Mom's quilts!
It's these little things that every day remind me of her. It's not just one thing either. It's every day all day - little things. Some days it makes me smile, some days cry. Sometimes both.
I've been able to say her name more out loud in the past few weeks. I said to Steve this evening, I'm so glad we found mom's quilts. I didn't get a lump in my throat when I said it. I didn't break down in sobs. I just meant it and said it out loud. And I don't know what sort of step that is, but it seems like some kind of step in the process.
He opened the box and I gasped. Mom's quilts!
It's these little things that every day remind me of her. It's not just one thing either. It's every day all day - little things. Some days it makes me smile, some days cry. Sometimes both.
I've been able to say her name more out loud in the past few weeks. I said to Steve this evening, I'm so glad we found mom's quilts. I didn't get a lump in my throat when I said it. I didn't break down in sobs. I just meant it and said it out loud. And I don't know what sort of step that is, but it seems like some kind of step in the process.
Friday, January 1, 2016
2016...
Well, we did it. We made it through the holidays, our first without mom. I'm sure everyone who misses her missed her just a little more through these past couple of months. She loved the holidays. Things were quiet here, and I shed many tears. I miss her so much. Some days it's still so unbelievable and so unbearable to know she's never coming back. She was just here, and with us for the holidays.
I didn't put my tree all the way up this year. I couldn't handle seeing the ornaments. I didn't make special foods. I didn't watch movies that would trigger tears. I guess it was the way to get through it this year. I had to remind myself a lot to just feel the feelings. And it was okay to be sad that she wasn't with us.
This week I attended the funeral of one of our special needs friends. She was only 8 years old and gone far too soon. It was something I knew I wanted to attend, but really didn't know how the grief meter would react. I was with my dear supermom friends and felt the love from them all as we cried together. But, some of the tears shed were for just the feeling of loss.
I'm looking forward to a new year. I cried as the new year rang in because every year momma was the first person who called every time. "Haaaaap-py New Year!" She would always say. I texted my family and friends. And went to bed and cried some more. Saying goodbye to 2015 sort of felt like saying goodbye to the year of mom. Her last year.
2016 will be filled with new adventures. And making new memories. And I hope a year of happiness and moving through this whole loss mess with a little grace and finding myself right side up in the end.
Haaaaaaaap-py New Year.
I didn't put my tree all the way up this year. I couldn't handle seeing the ornaments. I didn't make special foods. I didn't watch movies that would trigger tears. I guess it was the way to get through it this year. I had to remind myself a lot to just feel the feelings. And it was okay to be sad that she wasn't with us.
This week I attended the funeral of one of our special needs friends. She was only 8 years old and gone far too soon. It was something I knew I wanted to attend, but really didn't know how the grief meter would react. I was with my dear supermom friends and felt the love from them all as we cried together. But, some of the tears shed were for just the feeling of loss.
I'm looking forward to a new year. I cried as the new year rang in because every year momma was the first person who called every time. "Haaaaap-py New Year!" She would always say. I texted my family and friends. And went to bed and cried some more. Saying goodbye to 2015 sort of felt like saying goodbye to the year of mom. Her last year.
2016 will be filled with new adventures. And making new memories. And I hope a year of happiness and moving through this whole loss mess with a little grace and finding myself right side up in the end.
Haaaaaaaap-py New Year.
Thursday, December 10, 2015
She was good...
One of the things I was sure to miss most about leaving Max's elementary school was the holiday baskets they make for families in need each year.
This year, I was happy to be notified about it through families who are still there, and tonight went shopping for the basket supplies. I had to take Steve to the airport once Max's nurse got here, so it was late by the time I got to the store, but that just meant I had the place to myself along with the workers.
It's maybe better that way, because they didn't seem to see or mind the tears that kept forming as I shopped. The things I bought this year were all of mom's favorites, I thought she would like that. She is the one who taught me to give to others. She gave, sometimes to a fault, at the holidays.
In second grade, she arranged for my classroom Christmas tree to go to a family who couldn't afford a tree. She would clear our pantry to take to food banks. She took us caroling at the nursing home. She would grab an angel or two from the angel tree and we would shop for them. She would drop a toy in the toys for tots basket at the store. Her spare change went to the man ringing the bell. She would give to organizations that were important to her.
My mom was never rich, and died with very little. There were times we had to use the same services she would give to. But she worked hard, and taught us that if you have more than you need - give to others, because you may need it again some day and it will come back to you.
I was thinking today about how much she taught me in life. And now that she's gone and I reflect on it, I wish I could let her know how much I learned from her. And for being such a good mom and such a good person.
This year, I was happy to be notified about it through families who are still there, and tonight went shopping for the basket supplies. I had to take Steve to the airport once Max's nurse got here, so it was late by the time I got to the store, but that just meant I had the place to myself along with the workers.
It's maybe better that way, because they didn't seem to see or mind the tears that kept forming as I shopped. The things I bought this year were all of mom's favorites, I thought she would like that. She is the one who taught me to give to others. She gave, sometimes to a fault, at the holidays.
In second grade, she arranged for my classroom Christmas tree to go to a family who couldn't afford a tree. She would clear our pantry to take to food banks. She took us caroling at the nursing home. She would grab an angel or two from the angel tree and we would shop for them. She would drop a toy in the toys for tots basket at the store. Her spare change went to the man ringing the bell. She would give to organizations that were important to her.
My mom was never rich, and died with very little. There were times we had to use the same services she would give to. But she worked hard, and taught us that if you have more than you need - give to others, because you may need it again some day and it will come back to you.
I was thinking today about how much she taught me in life. And now that she's gone and I reflect on it, I wish I could let her know how much I learned from her. And for being such a good mom and such a good person.
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