Missing Mom

The wedding!

2010-12-06T13:00:00.001-05:00

My parents' wedding album, hen 'n chick plant, and MOTHER pin on the cake table.

SO...my husband and I are now married (which you could probably guess by my use of the word "husband")! It's been almost two months now. I still can't believe how proud I feel of myself for finally gaining the strength to have a ceremony in spite of my mom's [physical] absence. It was truly a beautiful, perfect day, straight out of the vision my mind had been concocting all year long...but also full of all the people we love the most, which was the most important part. I know my mom was there cheering us on. She'd know better than anyone how much that day meant to me because of all I've been through, losing her and going through my bad first marriage and all I had to work through. But I also had several friends who commented on it. One in particular told me she started crying when she was getting ready because she was so acutely aware of the enormity of this occasion, that I was finally ready and able to do it...she's in my mother loss meetup group and has seen me through many ups and downs these last few years. I've never seen so many people SO excited, and I think it's partly because so many of them knew how much it meant beyond just being an everyday wedding. And partly just because we're so awesome together. heehee

Even though we got married in the fall, it looked and felt more like a spring wedding - and you know spring means new beginnings. No, we didn't get married in the summer at the beach as the psychic had said, haha. But he was right about everything else, and truthfully, bringing that up was one of the things that really forged us ahead with our plans because it made us start delving more into what we wanted and didn't want it to be like. Doing as he said was something we thought about and then realized it would be impractical in spite of all the reasons it seemed practical. lol I'm thankful for my patient, compassionate guy who has dealt with all my brokenness and insecurity because he saw potential in me that even I couldn't always see. My best friend told me on our wedding day that I am more "me" now than I have ever been and that she knows so much of that has to do with my husband. He's always given me room and freedom to be who I need to be and feel how I need to feel. Looking back, it's amazing in a way that we didn't do this sooner because even when my past marriage clouded my perspective, it's always been pretty obvious to us and everyone else that we were supposed to be together. But all things happen in their own good time...it's even sweeter now because I am just in a different place mentally and emotionally this year than I have ever been before. The guy was always right...but now, the time was just right too.

We incorporated a lot of my grandmother's style into the wedding (my mom's mom). If my grandma were still mentally herself, she'd probably laugh at my saying she has a style. She just always used what she had on-hand because they were poor. But all of her handmade things, how I treasure them now. She wasn't in any state to come to the wedding. But we used a lot of things she had made and tons of vintage things that reminded me of her, and some of my flowers represented the two of them, so that was sort of like honoring her and my mom at once. We also had pictures of our grandparents, young and in love, set out.

Tied to the underside of my bouquet, I had the "I Heart Mom" ring I gave to my mom for her last birthday about two weeks before she died and a vintage pin that said MOTHER (along with my husband's grandmother's locket). So there were lots of little things that represented my mom but somehow without it being overtly about the fact that she died and turning the ceremony into something else.

So how did I fare, you ask? Did I have my dreaded breakdown as I started down the aisle, which I have been fearing for years and years?

During the day as we were setting up, I started looking through my parents' wedding album (which I'd set out on the cake table with the hen 'n chick plant, which was always symbolic with my mom and me because they're like mothers with babies) and broke down crying. We got married in our friend's backyard, and I went inside to cry on her shoulder a while, and when I went back outside to keep setting up, my parents' song chose that moment to come on the stereo. I laughed and felt like my mom was messing with the music system. That gave me an extra boost of strength. So I had my cry early in the day and got it out of my system...and somehow I just knew that was all the crying I was gonna need.

My dad walked me down the aisle with both of us all smiles (oh, and we also found a penny on the stoop!), and we had agreed he'd still say, "Her mother and I do," and instead of making me sad, it comforted me. My dad and I even danced to their song during the reception. By the way, things between us have been really great for quite a while now.

My mom only got to know my husband about six months before she died, but she really liked him and knew he was a keeper. I was able to be happy and joyful the rest of the day and make the day about us instead of my loss, which is how it should have been, and I'm sure it made her very happy. :)

It's amazing how fear can control you for so long if you let it. I am so glad and proud that I was finally able to beat it!!!!!!! It's been a long journey of conquering a lot of different fears a little at a time, and now I sorta feel like I can do anything. Well...most of the time! :)

My dad and me.

2010-12-06T11:53:00.003-05:00

WORD FOR THE DAY
Monday, Dec. 6

Don't be concerned about being disloyal to your pain by being joyous.

Pir Vilayat Inayat Khan, Alchemical Wisdom

(from gratefulness.org)

Some days...

2010-06-29T11:25:00.003-04:00

Some days, the dreams, memories, and photographs just aren't enough.

Some days, it can still feel like this is too much to bear.

Some days, I still look back and wonder how I survived it.

Some days, I feel strong and brave and forge ahead.

Some days, I just feel grateful that I had her here while I did.

Some days, I am so light and happy and filled up, though the loss is ever-present.

Some days, the love she left in me is enough to sustain me.

Some days...are better than others.

All days...I still know for sure that I am okay and always will be.

_______________________________________

Photo credit: labphotog.zenfolio.com

I did a flickr search for "mom," and the above photo is the first one that came up, and this is the photographer's caption:

Minutes & hours are filled with memories & tears. There are sobs & wails that come from a place so terribly deep & wounded. And, there are moments of clarity & deep peace knowing my mother no longer hurts.
They say grieving is a journey that one travels in his/her own way. I'm walking the miles of that journey now & forever; one, healing step at a time.
Mom---I love you purely & simply, with all my heart. In your memory & in your honor I take my first steps BACK TO LIFE....

---Originally posted on my blog on July 15th at 6:15am http://labphotog.wordpress.com/

One-a those days.

2010-06-28T14:07:00.000-04:00

flickr image by floydbob

I am an emotional wreck today. I watched a movie late last night on TV ("Little Secrets"), and it was very sweet and something my mom would have loved to see, and I started crying. Then I started feeling old. (I know, I know. Most days, I am very happy to be almost 30 because I am in a very good, GOOD place in my life, and things are falling into place, and I would never wanna go back to being younger...but some days, the transition of what "30" means hits me rather hard.) Then I looked at my teeth, and my straight, perfect teeth are changing, I believe, and it's freaking me out BAD. Then I realized this week marks our youngest dog's 3rd b'day and that one of our kitties is 12, and I bawled and bawled over it. I am just a big, emotional, teary mess. It happens every now and again. I think what it really boils down to is: I'm stressed out. I'm overwhelmed. I'm tired. I fell asleep crying last night and held said dog and cat all night. I dreamed that my mom and I were swinging together on someone's front porch. I think we were listening to them playing music or telling stories; I can't remember which. I'll bounce back like I always do. Sometimes I just need to feel sad and let it happen. Sigh.

Other than that, things are good...we have 3-1/2 months til our wedding, and it's really a sweet, exciting time. Friends and family are offering so much support and encouragement. I wanted to include some words of wisdom from my best friend when she emailed me back about how I'm feeling today. She and I met when we were babies in diapers, and I literally do not remember a time in my life without her in it. She is more like my sister, really. We grew up just around the corner from each other and were almost always together, riding bikes, huddling in the closet with a flashlight to tell ghost stories, getting in trouble for eating bubblegum-flavored toothpaste, swimming, playing in the neighborhood creek, writing stories together, crushing over dumb boys, giggling at a high-pitched frequency that only tween girls can conjure, and just talking and over-analyzing everything possible because that's how our brains work. Especially since my mom died, she's been maternal towards me in a way, though still my friend, and I appreciate her so much. When my mom was in hospice the last week of her life, my best friend was there by our sides, bringing me toothpaste and clothes changes and pajamas. (Hmm, I've mentioned toothpaste twice in one blog post in addition to talking about my teeth; I think I'm scrutinizing them because of the upcoming wedding.) And now she has the most beautiful and sweet little boy that I've had the pleasure of babysitting twice this month; he reminds me SO much of her, and it's a joy to see because it's almost like watching her as a kid again. He has all her facial expressions and all the wonderment over simple things just like her. She always has sage advice for me; she knew my mom well and always seems to know what she'd say. I would run to her anyway even if my mom were still here, but I am so thankful that I can run to her even more so now. Her dad has lung cancer; he was pretty recently diagnosed. It's absolutely heartbreaking thinking of her having to endure this. I hope I can be there for her the way she was (is) for me. I think she knows me better than anyone else on the planet since my mom died. She knows my vices, what makes me tick, and how to get through to me. I love her dearly.

Don't feel old. In so many ways, your life is really truly beginning. I think [ex-husband] was to get you prepared for the real thing. You got your life lined up the way you want it. Work will continue to be a job/chore until you find something that makes you happy to do it. But it is still the avenue to at least keep you where you are at until you find something better and someplace better if that's the case. I'm sorry about all the sadness surrounding your mom. I have nothing to say past that really; I cant even imagine. I think what you are going through is what everyone goes through when they hit close to 30. I don't think it's really the actual age so much as just the universal time period when you start to review everything. I know that I did it too. But I think so long as you are happy with the overall picture, and you have every reason to be, that's what ultimately counts.

2010-06-07T11:16:00.005-04:00

Hey, Jennifer... It's OK. Everything is fine. You've always been guided. Even now you are watched, and held, and adored. You've made great stuff happen, and you will make more great stuff happen. You've changed lives. You've changed your own. You've moved mountains and done the impossible. You've been scared and you overcame. You've been knocked down and you rose. And you've been lost, or so you thought, only to discover it was just the calm before another storm of creativity, love, and fun.

Humbled like the rest of 'em, The Universe

Another Mom dream.

2010-05-21T12:31:00.003-04:00

Die kleine Manon
Originally uploaded by andreea_gerendy

I keep having these dreams where my mom is alive and in which I don't realize she's not supposed to be there. It's just like everything is normal. I had one where my fiancee and I were married and had a child, a little girl, and she was already about 3 or 4 in the dream. She had brown hair. She actually looked similar to the little girl in this picture. I don't know what her name was; I don't think we ever called her by her name in the dream (dammit!!!). Anyway, he wasn't in the dream, but I was over at my mom and dad's house with our daughter, and she was supposed to be eating her dinner. She kept spitting it out and saying she wasn't hungry. She was way too cute to get mad at. :) Finally, I said I gave up and started cleaning her up. When I was done, she looked up at me and said sheepishly without meeting my eyes, "Well, I think I could still have room for a piece of Dove chocolate." My mom and I looked at each other and burst out laughing, and I said, "Yep! She's my kid alright!" Then I asked my mom, "What did you do to get me to eat when I was little?" But that's when I woke up, and I never got the answer.

It was a bittersweet dream in a way. I loved seeing my future kid and my mom together in one dream! That's always been the hardest part of losing my mom too young - my child not knowing her, at least on this side. I at least got 24 years with her, not that it was even close to enough. I've of course been thinking a lot about this, with the upcoming wedding and the plans to try and conceive right after, so I guess the dream was my way of trying to get what I wanted - both of them together. It broke my heart, though, not to get my mom's answer in the dream. I don't even know this time if it was really her. Sometimes I just know without a doubt that it's really her, and other times, I'm not sure. I know that motherhood is going to bring so much intense joy and healing to my heart. But I also know there will be times when it's so hard without my mom there guiding me. I'd pay almost any price for a two-sided conversation with her, to get her advice and hear her fond remembrances of how scared she was of breaking me when I was a baby since I was a preemie and all the fun little things we used to do together. Fortunately, we have a tremendous network of support between family and friends, and I am SO grateful for that. And his mom is SOOO excited about being a grandma that she can barely contain herself, and she'll make an awesome one, and I'm so glad my child will have her.

But of course, nothing can be the same as having your mom around to help you, and it's just such a shame that my baby won't grow up knowing my mom. It's the wrongest of wrongs. If I start to think about all the things my mom and my child won't be able to do together, I'll fall apart. She will love and adore that child beyond comprehension (and probably already does, as I believe they've probably already met), but it's so unfair that she can't do it HERE, in person. I will teach her all about my mom, and I hope she will feel like she knows her from that. And I have hope that my mom will still have a few conversations with her from beyond...a friend of mine's son recently said his imaginary friend's name was her mom's full name, which he had never heard before; he'd only heard of her nickname. It's enough to send chills up your arms, but it gives me hope!

Still, although I'm nervous, I'm really excited about motherhood. Even though I always thought I'd have a child long before now and have been waiting my whole life for it, I'm not sad that it didn't happen before now, because when it does, I know it will be the perfect time. I don't know if I would have been as good of a mom before now. I turn 30 this year, and I am more comfortable in my own skin now than I have ever been. I feel like for me personally, I'll have more to offer her now. Okay, or him. Even though it's gonna be a her. But even with the excitement, it's still hard to wrap my mind around the fact that this time next year, I could be close to poppin' her out. :)

Oh...and a few weeks ago, I put my mom's wedding dress on for the first time. It's not the one I'm getting married in. But I love looking at it. I had always wanted to put it on, just because, but couldn't bring myself to. Finally, I did. It sounds morbid to anyone who hasn't lost their mom, maybe. But having it on was kinda nice.

quotes from gratefulness.org

2010-05-21T11:36:00.001-04:00

I recently started subscribing to the emails from http://www.gratefulness.org/. I like 'em a lot. Here's a couple good ones!

If you realized how powerful your thoughts are, you would never think a negative thought. - Peace Pilgrim

I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable...but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing. - Agatha Christie

(Not to mention Agatha Christie is one of my favorite authors. I inherited a love for mysteries from my mom.)

My favorite email subscription is still Notes from the Universe, though, which you can get a taste of in the sidebar. :) They can literally change your life as you know it!! I so look forward to opening them every day and seeing what the Universe wants to tell me today. :) http://www.tut.com/

Mother's Day this year was tough. I didn't get my usual two weeks' prior syndrome; instead, it hit the day of when I was going along, doing fine, and decided to look through some old pictures of my mom and me when I was a baby. Cue the downpour. It was a couple days before I felt back to normal, but then I was fine again. When I went back and looked at the pictures again, I could smile again instead of cry. And such are the ways of grief!

Wedding dress shopping with Mom.

2010-03-03T11:37:00.002-05:00

image from flickr by Ualani

I had a dream last night that my mom and I went wedding dress shopping. She was totally alive and normal, not like it was her ghost. I had to use the bathroom and went to the back of the store and into the bathroom, and she went in with me. We didn't realize it was a private bathroom for the employees, and one of them burst through the door somehow and started yelling at me for using their bathroom! She left the door open while she was yelling at us, and everyone in the store was looking at me and frowning in disapproval. She shut the door, and when my mom and I walked back into the store, we found that they had closed up and left us locked in for the night. We were trying to figure out how to get out without setting off the alarm when I woke up. Strange, huh? All the same, it was nice having her there.

More wisdom from a Dove chocolate wrapper.

2010-02-25T11:07:00.001-05:00

Another good article about parental loss.

2010-02-25T11:02:00.002-05:00

I have never watched this show, and as a vegetarian, some of the references in the article made me wince a bit, but it is a beautifully written article. Even though it's about sons losing their dads, and I wouldn't pretend to think that it's exactly the same as a daughter losing her mom (because nothing is, and each loss is different in its own way), there is a lot we can pull from.

For Josh and Jake Harris, this February will likely be the worst month they'll ever have to endure in their lives. Their father -- 'Deadliest Catch' skipper Phil Harris, who was not only their dad, but their boss -- died following a stroke on February 9. The pain and emotional void left by the unexpected and all-too-early passing of a father is indescribable, something incomprehensible for most. Unfortunately, I know firsthand, because as they trudge through the awfulness that is their February, my November was equally devastating when my father passed away.

Wow.

2010-02-24T17:48:00.002-05:00

VANCOUVER, British Columbia -- In the middle of last football season, Bengals coach Mike Zimmer suffered a horrific blow: His wife Vikki died suddenly at home.That was on a Thursday. Zimmer coached that weekend, nonetheless.Seven years ago, quarterback Brett Favre suffered the same blow: His father died on a Sunday. The next night, on Monday Night Football, Favre famously stood up to his grief to create one of the most memorable moments in his storied career. He led the Green Bay Packers to victory in what was called in some circles a transcendent performance.Those weren't the first times we've witnessed athletes soldier on in the face of a most personal tragedy and loss. They won't, of course, be the last. But what we witnessed a young Canadian figure skater named Joannie Rochette do late Tuesday night in a packed arena at the Vancouver Games was gut-wrenching on another level.

Here was a woman who on Sunday learned that her mother Therese died quite suddenly and extremely unexpectedly. She was just 55. But young Joannie hit the Olympic ice at the Pacific Coliseum nonetheless and proceeded to skate what turned out to be her best short performance of the season. She then melted into tears upon receiving a standing ovation from the crowd.It must have felt to her like 50,000 hugs, and probably still not enough.

Hmmm...how do you explain this one??

2010-02-22T00:33:00.001-05:00

Just now, I was standing in our bathroom and suddenly heard a vibratory noise...I looked to my left a few feet away and saw the Q-tip jar vibrating and shaking in its spot. I stared at it for a moment trying to absorb this. No one, human or animal, was anywhere near it that I could see, and I was definitely the only one in the room. I wondered if maybe it was the washing machine downstairs making it vibrate since it's running, and yesterday the machine was making a bowl downstairs vibrate a little bit, which wouldn't have been noticeable if the bowl hadn't been right up against the wall as it was and making a soft little noise. But that was at least on the same level of the house as the washer. This jar was going crazy. Nothing else on the table was moving. I started smiling as I watched it until it stopped. Then I decided to see if I could make it do the same thing to make sure I wasn't attributing something to my mom or another spirit if it had another explanation. I couldn't make it shake by walking near it or even JUMPING up and down in front of the table it's sitting on. Even tapping on the table barely had an effect; I had to hit my hand on the tabletop with a little force to recreate the same effect!! It's still possible, of course, that it was something else...but it was very strange indeed, in a good way.

I then decided to turn my iPhone app called Ghost Radar on, which theoretically translates quantum energy fluxes in the room into words, and set it by the jar. After it warmed up, it said, "Hospital," which was immediately followed by "realize." That part, I admit, made me kinda nervous due to an earlier conversation about a friend...I left it on a while longer and got nothing else and turned it off.

(The picture is of the actual table in my bathroom with the Q-tip jar. The ceramic bird is the bank where I keep all the pennies I find that I believe come from my mom.)

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Wow...5 years.

2010-02-19T11:36:00.006-05:00

(these are the actual roses I got :) )
Valentine's Day has come and gone. You know, I expected the actual 5-year mark to hit much harder than it did, but I guess having gotten some of it out 2 weeks prior, that helped. It was a Sunday this year. I slept really late that morning and cried when I woke up. I cried some that night too. But during the day, I was pretty okay. We never really know how to celebrate the day, obviously. But this was the first year, as I remember, that I really and truly felt like I wanted to actually celebrate V-Day in addition to honoring the day for the other thing it represents. I feel like that was a HUGE step for me. Maybe it's because this time, we're full-fledged into planning our wedding. And some of it is just time and new perspectives too. I made him a handmade Valentine, and he gave me the standard dozen roses (but in a non-standard color!) and See's candy, and let me tell you, I am ALL about that!!! :) We went to a movie and had a good time. When Monday morning rolled around, I fully expected to magically be fine again, as I usually am after the day of dread is over. It's like a flood of relief to know I made it through and can then begin anew. But not this year! Everything about this anniversary was different from what I expected, and I really should know by now not to think I know how I will fare. Monday through Wednesday, I was an irritable, sad, blah, tired, unmotivated, grumpy, foggy mess. Then suddenly Thursday, yesterday, I was just fine again. And now I am feelin' good and ready to take on the world again. :) My dad emailed me this morning and reminded me that today was the day of my mom's memorial service. Strangely, I don't remember those kinds of dates. I just remember the day she died, and the rest was all a blur after that.

I have a wedding to plan, a creative venture to continue working on, and all kinds of "life" just waiting for me to grab it!!! Jen is back in business. :) I figure if I can make it 5 whole years...I'm probably gonna be alright. ;) I will always have my days, for sure. But as bad as I miss my mom, I absolutely refuse to live in pain. I fight the pain every day, and nowadays, I win more than I lose. Sometimes I let myself lose, and that's okay; you still have to allow yourself to feel the bad, sad, mad feelings and not keep it held in. But I am living in such a state of gratefulness now, and it is truly life-changing to shift into that state. I am one lucky girl to have that woman as my mother. Yes, our time was too short, and no, nothing about it is fair. Yet I can still say that we lived a lifetime of love with the time we did get. I am so proud to say that I am who I am largely because of my mom. I can still say, "Happy Valentine's Day," to the first person who ever loved me.

The two-week InstaBitch syndrome.

2010-02-04T22:07:00.002-05:00

image from flickr by Talia Twilight

It's been sort of a terrible week so far. It seems like everything frustrating that can go wrong...has. I won't bore myself or any of you with the details, but last night at about 2am, I was submerged in a sobfest and finally realized I was just following my normal pattern of 1) turning into InstaBitch, where everyone and everything irritates me and I want to throw something at the wall, followed by 2) breaking down into heaving sobs, followed by 3) suddenly feeling a sense of relief. You'd think after 5 years I would have gotten used to this rather predictable routine, but for some reason I don't always recognize it at first...I'm already thinking about whatever birthday, holiday, or anniversary is in 2 weeks, but I think I'm going along handling it okay until it suddenly hits. I think it's just been a bad day because everything seems to be going wrong, and then I realize it goes a whole lot deeper. Once I cry and get it out, I won't say I'm magically fine, but the relief is immense. Sometimes the 2 weeks beforehand is worse than the actual day of.

I still can't believe it's almost been 5 years - not sure how to wrap my mind around that yet.

We DO have lots of good stuff going on right now too...which I will write about soon. But not tonight; it's time for pizza and hopefully veggin out a little.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Happy birthday to you, you live in a zoo...

2010-01-23T23:36:00.000-05:00

Today is my mom's birthday. I can't believe she'd be 65 today and that I'm coming up on 5 years since she died. So strange. Honestly, back then, I never thought in a million years that I'd be feeling as grateful and happy again as I do now. I thought I might live in despair forever. I feel kind of bad; I haven't done anything to actually commemorate her today like I usually do, but I think with the 5-year mark, I am not really wanting to face it and deal with it. Normally, I embrace all the emotion, but I have been in such a good place emotionally lately that I am afraid of spoiling that. I don't want to keep it stuffed down either, though.

So we are really moving with our wedding plans, and I am feeling SO good and happy about everything! I woke up this morning and looked around at him and all our pets and thought of my friends and family, and I got choked up with such an immense feeling of gratefulness. I have worked through a lot of pain (some of it very recent when one of our dogs passed away unexpectedly on November 6th, and that has been SO awful). But I have had so much LOVE in my life and still do, and I simply cannot help but be thankful in spite of the hurt. I am so thankful I had the chance to have my mom, and our dog, and my other pets who have passed. The missing and aching hurt like hell...but I can't ignore the fact that I'm so lucky to experience them, and it makes everything worth it. I do kind of feel sometimes that I might be trying to ignore the hurt too much lately...I think somewhere along the line, I got tired of crying. But again, it is so important to deal with things head-on...I have always touted that and probably need to do better at taking my own advice lately.

What's the difference between allowing yourself to be truly joyful and keeping the pain squashed down inside? It is a strange, fine line sometimes.

I tried on wedding dresses this afternoon, and you know, I made it through fine. It wasn't until I was through that it hit me: I tried them all on and was happy and excited instead of focusing on her not being there. It made me feel like I can get through the rest of the process and be okay. And you know, maybe that was precisely the best gift I could have given her for her birthday...to be happy and grateful and not in mourning. And just as I was processing this thought, I got this email from one of my mom's closest friends, who always emails me on her birthday and Valentine's Day:

Wow! That was the greatest way you could have honored the memory of the one who always loved you most! I am sure she knew and was immensely happy. And, I am proud of you, too. It is o.k. to be happy!

Absolutely perfect. Mama, I love you so so so so SOOOOOO much...happy birthday. And you're still a turd.

Weddings, babies, love notes...and turds

2009-09-03T11:31:00.024-04:00

I am not feeling well today and am fighting off sneezes, aches, and chills and telling myself, "I am healthy! I am healthy!" Whenever I get sick, which fortunately isn't that often, I start missing my mom reeeeeeaaalllly bad. When I was younger and would get sick, she was always so comforting and was at the ready with a washcloth for my forehead and hot soup. I remember times as a very young child when I'd be up at night with a stomach bug or something and couldn't sleep, so we would go downstairs and watch Turkey Television in the middle of the night and laugh and laugh. It made being sick pretty much worth it to share those times with her. I want to turn into a big baby while I'm sick and whine and complain while she tends to me, but now I'm a grownup and she's not physically here, and I have to work and tend to responsibilities whether I feel like it or not. Boo.

A few months ago, I made a sale on my CafePress T-shirt shop to a woman with my mom's first name and maiden last name. Today I made another sale to a woman whose name is a nickname I used to call my mom, which I was thinking about a lot yesterday out of the blue. Very comforting "coincidences" and much-needed. And these are not remotely common names either. All throughout childhood and into adulthood, I would leave notes for my mom from a made-up secretary named Bambi. My mom was a secretary for almost 30 years, and when I was little, I decided she needed a secretary of her own to assist her. But this secretary had to be very dumb and very bad at her job because that would make my mom laugh. So I would leave notes for her from Bambi in this huge, exaggerated handwriting with every other word misspelled, saying she had completed some task for my mom that day, always poorly and bumbling everything. My mom's name was always incorrectly spelled and pronounced according to Bambi. And that misspelled name is the one on the sale I made today, believe it or not. Bambi brought us a lot of laughs over the years. Damn, I really need a kid of my own to do this kind of stuff...I just can't wait. Hmm...I just realized I have a further connection with the Disney Bambi...we both lost our mothers too young.

Speaking of having a kid, I went back to my psychic recently, the one I have been to before and have blogged about because of his accuracy. He confirmed that I will be pregnant next year and will have...drum roll please...a little girl. :) I have always known since childhood that I would someday have a daughter. I don't know how; I just knew. But it was awesome hearing him confirm it, and I've been going around telling everyone, "I'm having a girl!" as if I were already pregnant and had just found out the sex from the doctor. lol He has already told me the last time that she won't be my mom coming back, though. And he had a very wonderful message from my mom. To back up a little, he was confirming that I am with the right guy and that I basically need to chuck all my hangups and move forward because we are supposed to be together, and I mentioned that one reason I have held back on having another wedding and having a baby is because I am so afraid of not being able to handle it without my mom. I let go of the idea of the "symbolic empty chair" thing a while back, knowing it would be way too hard to see it during the ceremony, but I said I was terrified of starting the trek down the aisle and totally falling apart upon realizing my mom wasn't physically there. He kind of laughed and said, "Your mom has a sense of humor, doesn't she? Here's what she says to do about that: get a really good picture of her that looks happy and blow it up to a life-size cardboard cutout and stick it at the end of the aisle!!" I thought I was going to burst from laughing so hard. That is SOOOOO MY MOM...it's exactly what she would say. And even if I don't actually do it, just the thought of it will be enough to make me okay. I thought it was pretty freaking wonderful that my mama was joking around with me from the other side. :)

Oh, I also told him I had not seen the bunny on my birthday this year and was really sad about it and that it was the first time he had not appeared on a "holiday." I asked if the bunny was really from her or just something I came up with, and he said, "It's you." I said slyly, "But is she telling you to SAY it's me because she wants to wean me off of him?" and he said sheepishly, "Mm-hmm," like, "Okay, you win, you sneak!!" haha Another type of note I used to leave for my mom (usually in hidden places so she would suddenly come upon them when she wasn't expecting it) was "MOM IS A TURD" - don't ask me how this came about, but it was a tradition for as long as Bambi, at least, and to a little kid, "turd" is about the funniest word ever. So the first thing I thought when he told me she was trying to get away with "deceiving" me over the bunny was, "My mom is such a turd!!" lol He said she just really wants me to be able to move forward. We were already starting to plan getting married next year, and now we have a little more direction and have been told we're getting married in the summer at the beach...which is, in all honesty, a conclusion we probably would have arrived at anyhow because it makes sense for so many reasons - it's a time when people will be more likely to attend and a place where most of them will be already. All in all, the session was very healing for me!

So that is what's going on as of late. Is it next year already??? Just kidding. I will do my best to fully enjoy the present because life is going by too fast as it is. I've just turned 29, and everything seems to have gone by in the blink of an eye. But next year should be a pretty exciting year! :)

I love you, Mom. Even if you ARE a turd. And I promise to start going to the dentist regularly again. :)

A note Mom wrote me many years ago that I treasure.

2009-07-09T17:52:00.003-04:00

Who'd have thought I'd relate to Tim Allen?

2009-06-04T12:35:00.004-04:00

I am home with one of our dogs this week, whose health is precarious right now, to say the least. It is a very scary, awful time right now, watching and waiting and not knowing what is going to happen. The waiting is maddening. I just want him to live. We don't even know for sure what is wrong with him.

I have the TV on in the background so the house doesn't seem too quiet while the animals are napping. I happened to have it on the E! channel where they were playing a True Hollywood Story on Home Improvement. I used to watch the show all the time with my mom and dad when I was growing up. Anyway, they did a small part on the fact that Tim's father died when Tim was a child; his dad was only 40. Tim's statement about it stopped me in my tracks. I had to rewind on the Tivo a couple times to make sure I was accurately writing it down. I think it completely sums me up.

"I don't think one ever gets over the demise of a parent. These things aren't supposed to happen in a perfect world, and you live in a perfect world for a while, and what it mostly did to me was wake me up early. Now anything's possible; the gate is open. The world could collide. There is nothing secure in life."

- Tim Allen

Depressing, yeah. But definitely how I feel much of the time, especially right now while trying to help my dog to stay alive.

Another Mother's Day came and went.

2009-05-11T23:15:00.023-04:00

Well...where do I begin. Mother's Day...that inescapable holiday that follows you around everywhere you go for the month of May, not only in advertising but also in unknowing people asking, "So what are you doing for your mom this Mother's Day?" and then having to tell them she's dead. For the last two weeks, I was an emotional ticking time bomb and everything was a trigger. This is often the case with me for those major days of the year that I dread. Often, the anticipation and dread of a day that's coming up is worse than the actual day...but that's not always the case and definitely wasn't the case this year. Mother's Day hit HARD this year, harder than last. And so it goes with grief sometimes. Some days or years, you just feel sadder than the one before and you don't always really know why.

I had other emotional stuff going on at the same time, and maybe that's partly why it was so terrible. I had a rescue dog situation that I was VERY worried about...and it seems to have worked out very well, but for a couple weeks, I was really scared and upset. I also got rear-ended with one of our dogs in the car. It was relatively minor as far as car accidents go, but it still has me shaken up thinking of what could have happened to her. I was stopping for a yellow light, and the guy behind us didn't realize I was going to stop. I used to sometimes roll the window down for her if we were going slow...never again. I had just rolled up the window so I could hear to call my aunt, and if I hadn't, she would have either gotten hurt or escaped from the car; she was so terrified and just wanted to be out of there and was shaking like a leaf. It wasn't my first car accident, but it was my first with my child in the car, and that makes a difference.

The night before the accident, I had two really sad dreams. Well, one of them was GREAT...until I woke up. In that dream, my mom had just been gone on a long vacation, and she came back, so beautiful and healthy and vibrant. It felt so real. It was crushing when I woke up to find it wasn't real. In the other one, my dad died too, and I kept emailing him because I kept forgetting he'd died, and then I'd remember and lose it. I felt so alone, so terribly lost without both my parents. I am thankful for my dad still being here even if he doesn't always live up to what I need. The dreams, the wreck, and the peak of the rescue dog situation ALL happened on April 30th - so that was one really hard day even without Mother's Day coming up, and all of it rolled together was just awful.

The day before Mother's Day, I went to an annual afternoon tea that is held by one of the support groups that I go to for motherless daughters. Sometimes I almost hate to call them support groups, because that sounds so formal and clinical. Really, they're not anything formal or run by anyone in the medical field. It's just a bunch of girls and women who casually meet and talk about our experiences and vent and laugh and cry (even yell sometimes). I couldn't have survived without them. The tea was wonderful and really helped me feel more equipped to handle Mother's Day the day after. However, I somehow had the mistaken idea that just because I was fine on Saturday, it meant I'd sail through Sunday! Not so. I was okay in the morning, and we went to breakfast and started running errands. Then suddenly I said, "I really need to go home." I climbed in bed and barely got out the rest of the day and night. Now, this is not something I do all that often, so I excuse myself when I need to do it. I watched movies on the Hallmark channel all day. We were supposed to go to a concert that night, but I just couldn't make myself go. I think there are times when we need distractions from the pain as long as they don't postpone allowing ourselves to feel it for too long. But sometimes you just can't make yourself do it.

Then, I thought once I got up this morning, I'd magically feel totally fine again. Ha! It's taken til late this afternoon for me to even start feeling better. Now, I feel pretty good. But when I am really down, MAN, can my perspective get super warped and disgustingly sad. My mind will start running down total other paths, such as, my boyfriend will get tired of me, I can never have a child because I will screw it up (this is something my ex-husband used to tell me, and even though I logically know he was full of shit, this statement STILL sticks with me in a bad way when I'm already down), no one would miss me if I died, I'm not worthy of anything, and on and on. I can really work myself up when I get going. But at some point, after I've worked through the pain again, I'm back to being myself and having a much more balanced, healthy perspective on things. And once you've spoken something out loud, somehow it instantly loses much of its power over you.

My sis-in-law went to the tea with me, as she lost her own mom 10 years ago. Her circumstances were different from mine, but we are both left with scars. We talked a little about how our experiences have made us hard to an extent. I realized how sad it was for me to hear HER talk that way and wondered why it doesn't make me as sad to hear MYSELF think that way. Why do I still sometimes consider other people more special or worthy than myself? I've realized my life is one effort after the other to overcome my fears, one at a time. It seems like I'm ALWAYS working on my many and various fears. But I guess that kind of goes for just about anyone, right? It's just that we all have different ones. If you've been reading my blog, you've gone on many of those journeys of overcoming fear with me and seen that I've been successful a few times, and I feel proud of that. But fear is a tricky, sneaky thing...even when you think you've totally killed one of your demons, now and then it can come back alive, even if only temporarily, when you're feeling weak. I guess the thing that matters is that I am always trying. I never stop trying.

I won't say whom I'm referring to for the sake of her privacy, but someone told me recently that she regretted not having children and that Mother's Day is painful for her because of that. I never knew that about her. I am terrified of becoming a mom, even though I know I have to do it and have always been driven toward it all my life. There ARE times, I'll admit, when I start to wonder if I can do it or if I'll be terrible at it and screw her up. And I get so afraid that I'll steel myself up and tell myself that I don't need anyone and they don't need me, and I'll just spend the rest of my life alone except for my animals. I know how awful that sounds. But I'm sharing it because I'm willing to bet I'm not the only well-balanced person out there who's thought that (even though I don't feel very well-balanced while I'm thinking those things). It doesn't mean I'm correct. But it's a very real fear I'm working on.

I've decided that because next year is 2010 and I'll be 30, we are going to get married and have a baby. Not that 30 is old by any means, but it's a mile marker for me, and it feels like the time is right. I'm so tired of creating red flags out of thin air just because I'm scared. There are no red flags, not real ones, and I know that and everyone around me knows that. If I keep waiting, I'll just keep getting more and more scared, and eventually one day I'll wake up and realize I have missed my opportunities. I don't want that to happen to me. I've said a million times how my mom had many regrets and very little self-esteem, and I don't want that to happen to me either. What a shame it would be. Sometimes you just have to close your eyes and jump. Granted, we've been together for five years and living together for three, so it's not like this is exactly rushing anything. :) It's been the intention all along; I've just been trying to get myself ready.

I talked to my dad for about an hour last night, and he was actually very supportive and comforting. He listened...really listened this time; I could tell. Then I talked to my aunt for about two hours. She always knows just what memories of my mom I need to hear at any given time. She reminded me of how my grandmother, their mom, never said, "I love you," until my mom started saying it to her as an adult (I think after she had me). At first, my grandmother would just say, "Uh-huh," and smile. Eventually, she moved onto, "I know." And it wasn't too long before she progressed to, "I love you too." They always knew she loved them; there was never any doubt. But she wasn't the type person to SAY it, but my mom is, and she completely changed my grandmother in that way because she recognized the value of hearing and saying it enough. I'm glad she passed that down to me. My aunt also reminded me of how even though my mom only knew my boyfriend for about six months, she was CONSTANTLY telling people how good he is to me, how wonderfully he treats me. I wish they'd had more time to get to know each other. But knowing she felt that way about him and saw that in him within a short period of time says a lot to me.

I realized not too long ago that the major thing holding me back from getting remarried and having a baby is that my mom won't physically be there for those things. I have been dreading facing that absence so very much that I have not been able to wrap my mind around going through it. Now I am getting to the point where I can't do that anymore. Yes, it will be hard and it will hurt. But I can't keep putting it off forever. I do want another ceremony, albeit nothing humongous or overly fancy. But for me personally, I don't want to just go to the J.P. I used to assume that I HAD to place a rose in an empty chair at my wedding to represent my mom. A few weeks ago, it suddenly hit me that I don't HAVE to do that! She doesn't give a rat's ass if I leave a chair empty for her. And if not doing it will help keep me from starting my trek down the aisle and totally losing it, so be it. And I've probably said before that while I'm not expecting my child to carry the burden of fixing me, I do think that will be one of the most major healing factors for me, seeing my mom's love for me come full circle when I have a human child of my own. So while it will be excruciating doing these things without her, I can't just not do them. It's kind of like reading the book Motherless Daughters, as a friend of mine so aptly put it - it's one of the hardest things to make yourself do, yet it's one of the biggest things that can help you heal. Why do we put off what we KNOW will help us?

I've started thinking lately of just how many girls and women I know now who've lost their moms. It's almost like I attract them to me, and maybe I do, because I just want to help them through what I've been through. I don't want anyone to have to go through it feeling alone or misunderstood. It has created a great web of support where they help me and I hope I in turn help them too. I recently reconnected with my high school art teacher and found out she lost her mom about 10 years ago, and she and several others are able to help me know what to expect when I become a mom myself and have been able to tell me a little of how they've made it through. That info is so valuable to me. She told me that she and her friend started an unorthodox Mother's Day tradition of going to Six Flags every year, and I really like that. Maybe someday I'll feel I can do something like that of my own. Maybe next year, I'll be pregnant or be a human's mom and I can start to shift some of the focus to me on that day and it'll help some...as another friend of mine says, she has a love-hate relationship with Mother's Day because of having little ones of her own but having lost her mom young.

I've also had a lot of support from friends who still have their moms, and that comfort is very valuable to me too. I have several friends who always remember and who send me notes at times when they know I must be feeling bad. Knowing that I can count on them even when they (thank God) don't fully understand is precious to me.

Sometimes even well-meaning people (and I'm not referring to my friends above) will say things like, "Well, at least she's not suffering anymore." And I want to say, "Yeah, but I sure as hell am!!" And they'll say, "She wouldn't want you to be sad," and I want to say, "Yeah, I didn't WANT her to die either, but she did!" I only think those things on the real bad days. But I can't help it. I don't say them out loud, though, because people aren't trying to be insensitive.

I used to get SOOO bitter and upset and jealous to see other girls my age with their moms. I've transitioned now into (usually) being happy for anyone who still has her mom because I wouldn't wish it on anyone. I'm glad when I hear of girls who truly appreciate their moms while they still have them.

My boyfriend (I might as well have been calling him my fiancee the last few years, but it just sounds weird) got me a gift from our animal children - a stepping stone kit so I can press their pawprints and put their names on it. I thought that was such a thoughtful gift. I was hoping he'd get me something from them, but I didn't ask. That is the kind of guy he is. And I seriously still get afraid sometimes?? REALLY??!!!!

I saw the bunny the day before, though not the day of. I got some fantastic pictures of him.

Oh, we also spent some great quality time with his mom, my mom-in-law, on Sat. night. I love them more and more the more time that goes by. That is another fear I have to get over...allowing myself to get closer to her and stop being afraid "it" will happen again if I do. I can choose to miss out on a lot or get it while I can.

I do feel tremendously grateful for my non-human children. I am a mother at heart, always was. They keep me afloat and bring me such joy. And that won't change just because someday they have a human sister. Okay, or brother. I have plenty of love to go around.

Speaking of them, some are needing to be fed their late-night snack and some are needing to take a potty break. I guess that is about all I have to get out of my system for now. Thanks to all who are reading this, and my prayer is that you made it through Mother's Day okay this year.

Mom...oh, how I miss you...sometimes it is even too painful to talk to you because I can't hear you talking back to me, and it makes it seem more "final" even though I know it's not. I loved every minute of being your little girl and still do. Watch over us and my babies. Whisper in my ear when I need you to, even though I probably already know what you'd say. Send me reminders that you're never far away. Keep visiting me in my dreams, and let me know it's really you. My love for you is so immense that I can't even describe it, but lucky for me, you already understand it. You're the one person who ALWAYS got me, and that is hard for me to be without. I will miss you every single day of my life. But I promise to always make myself come back out of it when I get so down on myself. I promise to live a full life with no regrets. I promise to celebrate your love for me every day in the way that I live and how I treat people. You are so beautiful, inside and out. You had the poise and beauty of Grace Kelly and a heart that was and is unconditionally loving. Both your life and your death have largely made me who I am. I try to do you proud. But sometimes it's hard and the pain threatens to overtake again. I'll keep trying, though, for you. Mom, I love you. Thank you for teaching me and showing me what love is. You're the purest, finest example of it. I hope you're enjoying yourself, learning and being free and happy. You deserve every good thing. Happy Mother's Day to you, Mommy. Although I have to be honest in saying, DAMN, am I glad that's over with.

P.S. I just realized I never wrote about the 4th Valentine's Day...will have to go back and do that later.

26 Cents

2009-01-12T16:33:00.007-05:00

Today in Kroger, I heard the original "26 Cents" playing on the radio. That's one of the songs I sang and recorded for my mom on the 2nd anniversary of her death in 2007. While it's one of my favorites and was a hit single for the original singers, it was still a bit unusual for it to happen to be playing while I was shopping. It put a big smile on my face as I went about my shopping and comforted me very much.

Taken from my CD insert (hahahaha):

"26 Cents" is a song by The Wilkinsons. The song is about a girl whose mom passes away, and it obviously carries a theme of coins. My mom had a thing for pennies. She could spot one on the ground a mile away and collected them. After she died, we began finding them in very odd places, usually in times of despair, so pennies are a great source of comfort to me. She also used to make me keep a quarter with me at all times in case I needed to make a phone call. Since the song talks about moms, pennies, quarters, and how a mother's love is always with you no matter where you go...well, this is the quintessential song to define my relationship with my mom.

Today is New Year's.

2009-01-01T22:55:00.010-05:00

Today is New Year's...and I am about to begin my fourth year without my mom.

I made it through Christmas and the whole time surrounding Christmas just fine. I'm not really sure how or why...but I really enjoyed Christmas this year and was okay. It didn't mean I didn't notice who was missing or feel any absence or pain from it...but I had a happy time and felt very grateful and loved. As always, spending Christmas with my boyfriend's family is a lifesaver for me. The way they have always pulled me in...I am so thankful for that. Things went fine with my dad. I didn't see him on Christmas but did a few days later, and things were okay. I also saw my grandmother the weekend after Christmas, my mom's mom, and it was not as hard as it usually is. I enjoyed seeing her and my aunt very much. She was still her happy, funny self. I had to remind her a couple times who I was, but when I would tell her, her face would light up. I sure hope I'm doing as well as she is when I am on the brink of turning 94 years old.

I really think putting up that tree helped me a lot this year. It's gonna have to stay up a while longer; I'm just not ready to take it down yet.

So we decided to go see a movie tonight and went to see "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button." I knew it was probably going to be a bit emotionally heavy just knowing a little of what it's about. Little did I know that it would open with a woman sitting at the hospital bedside of her dying mom who looked almost just like my mom did when she was close to the end...old (though she wasn't), frail, wearing a turban, the raspy breathing, the works. But somehow I was alright. The movie was so beautiful in so many ways and took me on quite an emotional rollercoaster, but I was really enjoying it. The woman next to me broke down crying at one point, and I heard another woman a few seats down sniffling too, yet I remained dry-eyed, which is not really usual for me during an emotional movie. It wasn't that I was stony or unfeeling; it was that I could see beauty in even the saddest parts of the story. When the movie was over and we were standing in the lobby, my boyfriend asked me if I was okay and said he got a little concerned the second the movie opened and we saw the dying mom. I said, "Yeah, I'm okay...I don't know how, but I really am." And I really was.

When we pulled into the driveway, what did the headlights illuminate in our backyard?

Yep, you guessed it: the bunny.

I saw him on Christmas Day, much to my relief. I do not see him everyday, and sometimes there will be long stretches where he doesn't seem to be around at all and I'll get worried. But he always seems to show up on the really important days or the ones when I really need that extra comfort. I was disappointed that I hadn't seen him today, New Year's. I really needed to...I needed him to be my symbol that this is going to be a good year, that things are going to be alright for me. I had decided I probably wouldn't see him if I hadn't seen him by nighttime because it's really very cold outside and I didn't think he'd be out in the cold. Yet there he was when we pulled up. And he wasn't scared - he never is. He didn't rush to get out of the headlights. He kind of hopped around and did his thing before eventually going into the brush. He is very rarely even spooked by our dogs, and they don't usually try to run at him either. We've been able to get pretty close up to him several times. But anyway, when I saw him, well - that's when I finally broke down and cried. It was a good kind of cry, a cry that felt sad because I miss her and that also felt good because she sent me that sign of comfort when I needed it...she always pulls through for me. She is still my mom, always looking out for me and trying to be there just when I need her most.

When I took all the dogs out to pee after we got inside, I couldn't see him but could still hear him rustling around in the brush. I said aloud through my tears, "Thank you, Mom. Happy New Year. I love you SO MUCH."

So yes, today is New Year's...and yes, I am about to begin my fourth year without my mom. But I have a feeling this is going to be a good year. This bunny is sort of like my groundhog today. :) Because I saw him on this day, I will go forward with more hope. I like to think I would have anyway, but I'm sure glad he was there. I will keep going forward, and keep going forward, and always keep going forward. I will live. I will be happy.

As I sit here typing all this now, I am surrounded by my furry little ones, and I am thankful for all the love in my life. I am thankful to have a mother whose love knows no bounds.

Preparing for Christmas.

2008-12-23T10:54:00.009-05:00

On Dec. 22, I finally put up our tree and finished making our Christmas card! lol I'm a little late this year. :) I guess I was having sort of a hard time getting into the spirit of things. Half of me always looks so forward to Christmas and the other half doesn't because it makes me a little sad too. I really didn't feel like going through all the effort of hanging up lights on the house and putting up the tree and all that stuff. I've been so busy lately with very little downtime, and it just seemed like one more thing to do, not to mention having to take it all down again later. But then I didn't like the fact that I didn't care about decorating for Christmas. It's something I've always done, even when I just lived on my own, because it makes me happy. So last night I decided I cared, dammit :), and I drug everything out and finished at about 1:00 in the morning. So what if it will only be up for like a week. Christmas comes once a year, and I knew I'd regret it if I did nothing. And I'm glad now that I did it.

One thing that motivated me a little was the fact that when my dad gave me tons and TONS of stuff he wanted purged out of his house, one of those boxes was all our old Christmas decorations and ornaments. Now, I'm normally the kinda girl who wants a tree with two or three colors max, with everything coordinating and tidy, and pretty ribbons, blah blah blah, but this year, that sounded kinda boring suddenly. So I got out the box of my childhood ornaments and put them all on instead. As I went through that box and reminisced about the memory associated with each ornament, I relived all those sweet Christmases as a little girl home with my mom. I remembered making some of them at school and proudly bringing them home for her. I remembered the ones she bought for me...for the longest time, she would buy me one ornament every year that usually said the year on it, and it was something she'd picked out just for me and often said something about how a daughter makes Christmas special. There were the stuffed reindeer that she'd display, one of which my puppy promptly found and destroyed. :) There was the pink angel, and the Sugarplum fairy she bought for me when I begged for it after we went to see The Nutcracker, and the multitude of kitty cat ornaments (I had a one-track mind as a child). The only things I did differently from her were I used beaded garland instead of tinsel garland and white lights instead of colored. Maybe next year I'll integrate the old with the new and mix my childhood traditions with new ones. But for this year, our tree is just right.

It was a mixture of sweetness and sadness as I held up each ornament and then found its place on the tree, like most things in life. When it was all done, it was wonderful to stand back and look at "my mom's tree" put together again for the first time in several years. And I'm definitely glad I did it. Here's the picture...nothing fancy but full of warm, sweet memories.

Sad, hard flashbacks and WISHES of flashbacks of a different kind.

2008-11-26T21:36:00.012-05:00

It's been kind of a rough couple of weeks...my boyfriend's grandmother is in hospice at the nursing home, and it's basically been a waiting period wondering when "it" will happen. She is in her 80s and has Alzheimer's and hasn't known who anyone was for several years. I'm sad because I never knew the "her" that she was before the disease claimed her...I'm sad for his mom and especially his grandfather, who has always visited her regularly in the nursing home no matter what. He is still completely crazy about her. Now that she will be gone soon, I wonder if he won't know what to do with himself. Part of me thinks at least they got 20 more years out of her than I got out of my mom...but at the same time, I know that you are never ready or prepared to lose your mama no matter what her age or the circumstances. I guess at least with her body here, even though her mind hasn't been 100% here, they have still been able to hold onto her. It's kind of a waiting game now, knowing it will probably be very soon based on all the signs but not knowing for sure. It could play out for a while longer. Today they decided to leave the IV out, though. It kept falling out and was a big struggle to get it back in every time, and with the shape she's in now, they decided to just leave it out and try their best to let go.

I actually did okay visiting with her and the family in the nursing home, better than I thought I would. When I first walked in and saw her in the bed with the oxygen tube and IV and the open-mouthed, labored breathing, I had flashbacks of my mom toward the end. After the initial shock of the similarities, somehow I found a strength within me and just tried to focus on comforting the family members and telling them things from my experience that I hope helped them a little. They were really worried that she was suffering and struggling and fighting inside and in terrible pain and hungry, and I explained to them that at the point she's at now, she's probably not really feeling anything and that her spirit is somewhat removed from her body so that she sees and hears what's going on without experiencing the suffering in her body...it's just her body's slow process of shutting down, bit by bit. It did seem like that comforted them some, because they were just so afraid she was hurting. I hope I didn't make things too much about me and my experience, though, because right now it is about them and their pain.

There was one old woman in the home who, to me, looked like what I think my mom would look like at 90, and in a weird way, it comforted me seeing her. And she was funny, with my mom's dry sense of humor. They call her Little Bit. When she was rolling her wheelchair up to the table for dinner, she said, "Oh, this must be the Executive table." She was this tiny little woman and absolutely adorable.

There are times when I think I can't volunteer at a place like a hospice because it would take me back way too much, and then there are times when I think maybe I could do it because I've already been through it and could possibly provide some support to people who are dying but maybe don't have anyone visiting them or be there for loved ones who are playing the waiting game. I know from experience how much that waiting game can almost drive you insane...continually watching the person's face wondering if that last breath will really be their last...being afraid to leave even for two minutes to use the bathroom...it is maddening. There goes the videotape playing in my mind every so often again, though...sleeping in the hospice bed the nurses pulled up next to my mom for me, putting Rosebud Salve on her lips, singing to her, trying to make her laugh, raising her bed so she could breathe better, putting wet washcloths on her forehead, her asking me how I knew just what to do to make her more comfortable and telling her it was just because I loved her so much and knew her so well, promising her that I would be alright, falling asleep while holding her hand with my head resting on her side, looking into her pale but beautiful face as she took her last breath of life on this earth, beginning to scream when I realized she was gone, clutching onto her and not wanting them to take her body away. It is simultaneously haunting and sweet...sweet because of the love we have for each other and the gratefulness that I could be there with her right through the end...but haunting reliving it in my mind over and over. Still, I think I've said before that I don't want to forget any facet of my mom...the good, the bad (there wasn't much bad), the life, the sickness, the death. I don't want to forget anything about her time here with me and sharing everything with her.

In a very strange sort of way, sometimes I think I am relieved that I did not have to watch my mom get very old and lose her memory. I don't know if I could stand it if one day she didn't recognize me, even knowing it wasn't anything personal. I can't bear the thought of seeing my mom in a nursing home. At the same time, I wish she could have gotten old, maybe just not that old. I would do everything I could to take care of her and do anything at all she wanted and needed. If I had to sponge-bathe my mom every day and change her sheets and feed her and wipe up her piss and even diarrhea, I would do it with a glad and thankful heart. So I have these seemingly contradicting feelings about not wanting to see her get that old and still sort of wanting the chance. One part of me is relieved that I no longer have to dread the death of my mom like I always did, because it has already happened; the other part of me would give anything to have her back.

A little while ago, we were sitting around with my boyfriend's (and what I consider my) family, and they were all reminiscing about memories of each other as children and funny stories about things they used to do...and suddenly, it hit me that I don't hardly have anyone left who could reminisce about what I was like as a little girl. My dad, being my dad, would probably say he couldn't remember anything. My aunt does tell me cute stories now and then, but she didn't live there with us. My grandmother is close to senility herself now (my mom's mom), my mom's dad is dead, my dad's parents and stepmother are dead...and my mom is dead. Who is there left who will laugh as they tell funny stories about things I used to do? No one, really. I had never really thought about that before, and when I realized it, it really kind of messed me up. I remember a whole lot from my childhood, but I can't tell the stories from the outside perspective like my mom could. And there are things she would be able to tell me from the time before I really had a memory. Sometimes it feels very, very alone not having my mom. You don't just lose the person who died...I've realized you lose a whole lot of other things when they die, like their perspective on the past. I wish I could hear someone talk about how cute I was or something innocently funny I did or that time I did such-and-such. Oh, what I would give for that chance. It doesn't make me want a sibling. For whatever reason, I've always been completely fine being an only child and have never felt a sibling void. I just wish my mom were here.

So I have semi-unwanted (though special) flashbacks of my mom at the end...and wishes for flashbacks FROM my mom about the past.

I guess that's about all I've got for right now. It helps to get it all out in words. It is a blessed release.

Snakes, earrings, and unconditional love

2008-11-17T11:58:00.010-05:00

Over the weekend, I found two of my mom's outfits in the back of the closet that my aunt bought for her, jogging suit type outfits, one light blue and one navy blue. I decided to wear one of them today because they fit me (unlike a lot of her clothes, because even though I've lost some weight, she was always thinner, and taller too) and because it comforts me - almost feels like she's wrapping me in a hug while I'm wearing them. So how's this for sort of morbid irony...I realized as I was about to leave this morning that I was wearing her jogging suit with none other than my "There are cooler ways to die" anti-smoking T-shirt. Kind of a weird pairing. Maybe it was subconscious.

I have a lot of my mom's more recent clothes, but I wish I had more of her stuff from the 70s. She had a really neat style. Only a couple pieces survived her giving them away or throwing them away because they were getting threadbare. There was this one pair of jeans I would kill for...faded bellbottoms that were made of soft, thin denim with red-striped ribbon down the outside leg seams. I am lucky enough to have a coat and some great handbags and a cute bikini. I also have her jewelry, and though almost none of it is real (most of it is costume jewelry earrings), I treasure it all. I can look at each pair of her earrings and tell you exactly what outfit she always wore to work with those earrings. The two-toned peach earrings went with the light peach short-sleeved sweater and the darker peach slacks...the blue and black plastic dual hoops went with the short-sleeved royal blue sweater and the blue and black floral skirt...the gold-tone hearts went with the brown floral jumpsuit...and I could go on. Actually, I think those heart earrings were mine, but she had a way of swiping my jewelry. ;) And I reciprocated by swiping hers too. She also frequently wore the ugliest pair of earrings you'd ever see that I made for her when I was little. She wore them proudly and often, like they were the most expensive diamonds in the world, even though they went with absolutely nothing.

I have had a few moments in the last few weeks where I would suddenly break down and cry over her even though I had not done that in quite a while. One night a couple weeks ago, I caught sight of a photo of her after she gave birth to me, and she looked so radiant and proud and happy, and I collapsed on the floor and wept for a while until it passed.

I don't dream about her like I used to, and when I do, it is harder to tell if it is really her or just me putting her there. The other night, I dreamed I was being bitten by 3 snakes that got loose in my grandmother's house - they were someone's pets (I don't know whose), and they were so beautiful and glittery like this one yellow lipgloss I have that I had been thinking about earlier in the day :), and one of them attached itself to my lower back and I couldn't get him off. It didn't hurt when he bit me and he wasn't poisonous, and I was not afraid of the snakes, but it freaked me out that I couldn't get him OFF. My mom was trying and trying to pry him off of me. He made it look like I had a tail. I woke up and one of my cats was sleeping on my back in the exact spot where the snake was attached to me in my dream, so that explains why I felt like I got bitten there, but I don't know where the rest of the dream came from. It kind of felt like it was really my mom there even though the rest of the dream was so unrealistic. I wonder if she has reincarnated or if she has chosen not to repeat life on Earth again, or if she is off doing something amazing, or if she is still present but trying to leave me be because she's afraid letting me know she's around will hinder my progress because I will get stuck on it. I don't think I would, though. Not now. I might have in the beginning. But I would rather her contact me now and then than not so the gap doesn't seem quite as large. Anyway, this is what dreammoods.com has to say about snake dreams:

To see a snake or be bitten by one in your dream, signifies hidden fears and worries that are threatening you. Your dream may be alerting you to something in your waking life that you are not aware of or that has not yet surfaced. The snake may also be seen as phallic and thus symbolize dangerous and forbidden sexuality. The snake may also refer to a person around you who is callous, ruthless, and can't be trusted. As a positive symbol, snakes represent transformation, knowledge and wisdom. It is indicative of self-renewal and positive changes.

If I take this literally and consider the fact that my mom was trying to REMOVE the snake, she was either trying to warn me and protect me about someone in my life who is bad, or she was trying to help me rid myself of my fears and worries - I think the latter is the most likely. Hmm, ME having fears and worries???? No way! ;)

Speaking of fears and worries...I told my boyfriend the other night (because he sometimes gets jealous of our pets when I pay them so much attention) that no offense to him and not to minimize him or his importance in my life, but no one will ever love me in the same sheerly unconditional way that my mom did except maybe my animals and maybe my child someday. There are things I could do that could make him stop loving me. That's the way it works with people most of the time. But my animals will always love me, always accept me, never judge me, just like my mom. I don't have to prove anything to them or be anything besides myself, just like with my mom. I could have done ANYthing and it would never have changed the way my mom felt about me. It hurts so much knowing that is gone, at least in the earthly sense. Not that I use my pets to make me feel better about myself by any means ; they are my lifeblood and they are like my very limbs, and they are the reason I kept going after my mom died because I could not shut down with them depending on me. But it does feel good knowing they love me no matter what. When she first died, I felt like no one would ever come CLOSE to loving me in the same unconditional way as she does except (hopefully) someday when I have a child, so it was sort of a double loss. But then I remembered that my best friend and my pets get about as close as they can, and it does help a lot. I know I've written about this before, but my hypnotherapist told me once that I have to learn to love MYSELF that way and that I can do it because my mom taught me how and I can see myself through her eyes. Easier said than done sometimes, but I try, and it was very empowering when she told me that. It is hard to trust people fully when you have a really bad marriage in your past and a dad who seems not to give a shit about you and a mom who "abandoned" you by dying...even now, it's still hard to let anyone get "too" close in case they get tired of me or die. I have been working on this for so long and have come a long way, but I think I still keep everyone at somewhat of a distance except for the ones who truly get what my life is now. It's not fair to my boyfriend, though, or his mom whom I love but am afraid to get close to, and I want to let go...I really do. He might love me that way and I'm just too afraid to let him or realize it. Sometimes I do think one reason I am not in a hurry to get remarried or have a baby is because she won't physically be there to see. But I am kind of just shooting myself in the foot. Could those fear issues be the "snake" my mom was trying to help free me from? Who knows.

So lots of random thoughts today. Thanksgiving and Christmas are coming up fast, and I'm not that excited about it at ALL. Especially because shortly after that means Anniversary #4.

Oh, and if you haven't seen yet, I opened my own online T-shirt shop where I have designed anti-smoking and lung cancer awareness graphics you can buy on shirts, bags, stickers, etc. (There are also designs for vegetarianism/veganism, animal welfare, healthy self-image, the environment, humor, etc.) It's at www.cafepress.com/pixelpixiesshop. I hope you'll take a look!

the wisdom of a Dove chocolate wrapper

2008-10-09T16:23:00.004-04:00

"Happiness is the experience of living every minute with love, grace, and gratitude."

An update...whew!!

2008-10-09T13:12:00.007-04:00

I have missed chronicling a lot of important days over the last year, like making it through the 4th anniversary of my mom's death this past Valentine's Day...her birthday...Mother's Day... But I have always made it my personal policy to only journal when I feel the need welling up inside me to where I think I'm going to burst if I don't start typing. I don't want to write just for the sake of writing; I have to be moved to it. Today, I think I am. :)

Valentine's Day this year was bearable; I stayed home from work again like I always do and always will. I think I spent most of the day lying around and snuggling with my pets. I do remember I was able to make phone calls to my dad, my aunt, and my friend out of state who lost her mom on the same day in the same year, and talking to ANYONE on that date was a new ability for me, so I take that as a good sign. Mother's Day was okay, I think...my boyfriend got me a present from our pets, and that was special. Neither day was easy, but I made it through better than I have in the past. My mom's birthday was really hard because my dad was supposed to go to dinner with us again at her favorite restaurant - I thought it was our tradition now. But he decided he didn't want to drive out half an hour to our house to go, and it hurt my feelings. So my boyfriend and I just went ourselves. My dad and I have been through a lot of ups and downs, especially this year. We got to a point where I was so tired of his inability to be a good father that I blew up at him in person, on the phone, and in emails on several occasions, but nothing I ever said penetrated at all. It started with my mom's birthday when he bailed on me, and there were several more times I asked to spend time together and he blew me off over and over. A lot of his behavior was due to some new girlfriend who he's not even with anymore. I finally came to a place of understanding inside myself that I can kick and scream all I want and he is not going to change unless he wants to, and I don't really believe he wants to, so I was wasting a TON of my precious energy trying to conform him to what I need to no avail. So I decided to accept him the way he was and stop going out of my way to help him or even call him...he could come to me if he wanted, and I was no longer going to beg for his attention. Eventually, I guess we kind of came to an understanding, and things have been a lot better and he's made more of an effort to hang out with me. That's all I had really wanted, just some of his time and attention. I was tired of feeling like a little child sitting at the window watching her daddy drive away and wondering when he would ever come back. I don't feel like that so much anymore; some of that is because he finally rose to the occasion and started being more like a dad should be, and some of it is just me growing and coming to a new point of understanding and maturity. Everyone is on their own path for whatever reason, and I can support them and give them advice, and I will, but ultimately change is up to them, and I will not expend myself trying to fix someone and force anything on them. We all have to come to our own point of self-awareness. I'm going to be totally there for my loved ones but without it taking away pieces of my soul while I languish over their battles.

I am happy to say I am doing GREAT lately!! Truly, truly great. Not everything in my life is perfect. But I went on vacation for a week over the summer and came back refreshed and a different person. I am much more relaxed about everything in general, and it makes for a much better way to live! I can literally feel that I am on the right path toward understanding and healing and living the life I am supposed to live, and it feels awesome. I am living in a state of perpetual gratefulness, which makes it really cool to see the Law of Attraction suddenly working more than ever in my life and seeing things just fall into place. I'm in a different and new and good place now. I still hurt. Duh!! But things are good. I'm figuring out my life and how I want to live and be, and I am so thankful for the people and animals I have in my life. I am now more focused on all I have rather than just on what I have lost. I have a wonderful network around me.

I've also been more and more involved with animal rescue and other causes, and it takes me outside myself and my issues and turns the attention on others who are more needy than I am. It is incredible doing something to help animals. I'm also making more of an effort to get shit done that I've been putting off...I'm going to start painting again, finish decorating our house, start a new business venture and hopefully get out of the rat race eventually, and just enjoy living my life. I'm tired of waste and clutter and procrastination. The time is NOW. No more staying in the same ruts and letting life just pass me by. I'm taking good care of myself. I became a vegetarian after finding out the horrors that occur in factory farms, and not only do I feel better because I'm not supporting an industry of cruelty, but I am also insanely proud of myself for not eating meat anymore because it's something I'd always considered but never really thought I could do. It's awesome to be astounded by your own willpower. ;) And my body feels much better too, not so much like I'm dragging myself around. I still exercise as often as I can, at least twice a week, and we get out more with our dogs and do fun things with them. I'm a little more outgoing and making new friends because now I'm much more confident and secure in myself without feeling the need to prove anything to anyone. All these things are adding up and changing me and shifting my perspectives. Last night, we made a pact that we were going to start using positive affirmations to convince ourselves that we are as worthy as we think each other is. When my boyfriend expressed doubt about his capabilities in life, I said, "If it were me saying this, what would you tell me?" and we realized we need to see our own worth the way we see each other's. A few weeks ago, he started saying to me, "The universe is conspiring in my favor," after we saw it on Oprah...it started out kind of as a joke (okay, why do I feel like I have blogged about this before??), but eventually I started saying it to myself too until I really believed it again. It helps if you hold your hand over your heart when you say it...I don't know why, but it does. And damn if I can't see all kinds of evidence of how it really is working for my good as long as I am grateful and looking outside myself. So we're both going to start telling ourselves how smart and capable we are so we will believe we can do anything we want to do...and then do it! I decided a while back that I needed to start seeing myself the way my mom sees me...and then I will have all the self-esteem that I need. (And I just discovered Kristy Lee Cook from American Idol has a song about just that.)

I still see the bunny now and then. I got scared after not seeing him for quite a while and wondered if my mom thought I didn't need him anymore, and I was crushed - but then he showed up again. I hope he'll always be around. It reassures me to see him.

Anyway, below are a few postings that I had written months ago but never published in this journal...

So my mom sent me a b’day present from the other side...

2008-08-16T21:10:00.003-04:00

Current mood: blessed

The other day on my birthday when I got home from work, I noticed there was a single newspaper page lying on the ground in front of our front porch. I had my hands full as usual, so I didn't stop to pick it up, but I noticed it had some comics on it. The thought crossed my mind, "Maybe there's a Jumble on it." (The Jumble is only my favorite word game ever and something my mom and I used to do together ALL the time from childhood to adulthood. I may lack confidence in a lot of areas when it comes to being good at things, but I can say with confidence that I am damn good at the Jumble and can usually finish them in 30 seconds. I even used to make them up myself and give to her to solve.) I had intended to go back outside to get the page later and forgot. And then the same thing happened again the next night. I think maybe part of me was afraid to pick it up - I wanted so bad for there to be a Jumble on that page because that would mean to me that my mom had placed it there on my birthday especially for me...and I knew I'd be a bit let down if it weren't on there.

But last night, I finally picked it up. And, you guessed it, there was a Jumble. The newspaper page was all yellowed and dirty, but I brought it inside and promptly did the puzzle. I think that was the fastest I have EVER finished one. The date on the page was not my birthday, nor was it even recent. It was dated December 7, 2007. That date means nothing to me other than the fact that I think it's pretty safe to say it's a VERY odd coincidence to suddenly find a very old, very random single piece of newspaper on the ground in front of my house on my birthday like it was waiting for me to find it. And it didn't blow away in almost three days of being on the ground.

Thanks, Mom, for bringing me into the world...you were my first love and the very reason I have a birthday at all. Thank you for finding a way to send me a birthday present...you always made a big deal out of my birthday every year, and this one was no exception. I miss doing the Jumble with you, but I think of you every time I do it and remember how much fun we had together; you're the one who taught me the power of words. I would not trade all the beauty in my life even to avoid the pain. I'm finally so happy now, and I'm going to keep being happy. I love you so much.

Perfectionism.

2008-06-09T01:09:00.002-04:00

Current mood: pensive

The universe is trying very hard to tell me to stop struggling with my incessant need for perfection. I've had correspondence with three different inspiring and confident girls today who all in some way reminded me to allow myself permission to be "enough," plus I had an eye-opening experience visiting with my aunt and grandmother yesterday. I'm talking in particular about a quest to be perfect at things I attempt and perfect in my personality. I spent quite a lot of time wasted not doing things because I was afraid I wasn't good enough at them. Over the last year or so especially, I've been trying to overcome that and do those things because I love them, whether I am the best or not. I'm also always afraid that if I proceed with something confidently, I'm going to appear like one of those American Idol tryouts who think they have the world's greatest gift to offer with their voice but actually suck. It's fine to keep realistic expectations of yourself, but it's sad to spend a life holding yourself back because you're afraid you won't measure up. Life is meant to be lived and experienced.

I visited my grandmother yesterday - my mom's mom who is 93 years old. She is in perfect health physically, but her mind is starting to go. I had to remind her a few times of who I was. She is one of the strongest, most inspiring women I know. I wish to God that I knew her even better than I do. I never want to forget all her stories. She is a woman who does not worry about anything. She just doesn't. I even asked her once if it frustrated her when she started to forget things, and she just laughed and said, "No. Nothin' worries me. It don't do no good to worry no way." I aspire to be like her. I've always worried about every little thing and analyzed it to death. Yet here is this amazing woman who has lost her husband, her daughter - all of her immediate family besides my aunt and me, actually - and she has had a happy but rather difficult life at times, and her mind is going and she knows it...and yet she is always in good spirits, always belly-laughing, always optimistic. She is the epitome of the concept of the book Happy for No Reason by Marci Shimoff. What in the world would that feel like, to be so joyful like that? To just accept things as they are and not necessarily like them but make the best of what you have and be content with it? I definitely have periods like that, but in general, I'm not very good at acceptance or being content with the way things are. Things that just aren't FAIR are hard for me to accept. And I'm always reaching for MORE. Which I think is a very good quality in many ways, but perhaps there are times when I should just let something "be."

While we were there, my aunt was telling stories about when I was a baby. Especially now that my mom is gone, I treasure stories like that because it makes her come alive again in a sense when I think about how happy she was to have me. My aunt said when I was a baby, I knew what people were saying and quite obviously could understand any conversation...she would ask me as a one-year-old child where the toothpaste was when she babysat me and couldn't find it, and I would point and lead her to it...but I would not talk. If people would ask me my name, I would keep my mouth firmly closed and reply, "Hmm-hmm-hmm," three syllables for "Jen-ni-fer." She said I would not talk until I knew I could say every word properly. I must have practiced by myself, because at some point I just started speaking with perfect enunciation after barely speaking at all. It was apparently not because I was slow to learn words (I could read novels before I started kindergarten and type complete, punctuated sentences when I was eight, and I even italicized my own handwriting, for God's sake, when I was eight, which is maybe a little weird) or even because I was too shy or too stubborn...it really seems as though I just wasn't going to embarrass myself by not doing it perfectly, so I just didn't do it at all until I had it down.

She also said there were times as a baby and toddler when I would just sit there with clenched fists and look extremely tense. Not angry or frustrated, but just tense, like something was worrying me and I was obsessing over it. What in the heck could have been bothering me that bad at THAT age? But I have always been angsty and restless since I can remember. Not unhappy, but always questioning, always searching, always thinking.

All this was very telling for me. I had a tremendously happy childhood and love all around...my parents never placed unrealistic expectations on me or pressured me into doing or being anything...it is all self-imposed, and apparently it has been there from the beginning. There was something freeing about realizing I've always been that way rather than it being something I developed over time; I really don't know why, but it makes me feel a little better. It's a battle I constantly wage, but I'm determined to get there. I will be perfect at not being perfect. (Just kidding.) My mom spent her life never knowing her own worth, and I have decided I want to realize mine and not look back one day and wish that I had.

I may not be perfect. There are lots of things I don't like about myself. I will always strive to be more enlightened and will always have room for improvement. But...I am "enough." I need to give myself room to breathe and room to make mistakes and be flawed. I need to cut myself some slack now and then and stop berating myself when I don't measure up to my own impossible standards.

For more on this subject in a very profoundly written blog, visit Brooke White's blog:
http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=8985501&blogID=80374769

I've been set on a path toward freedom. I will have to keep working on it to keep it from overtaking me, but I want to. And if there is a good thing about the constant drive for perfection, it's that I strive to know myself completely, I search things out instead of blindly accepting the status quo, and I avoid settling and complacency. I just have to find the balance.

The ebb and flow of life and grief.

2008-04-17T01:06:00.003-04:00

Current mood: strong

Yesterday started out really nice...it's always nice to awaken to purring cats instead of an alarm. Things went smoothly. Then I had an extremely stressful day at work. When it was finally over, I left just in the nick of time to pick up my puppy on time. I was in a hurry, the adrenaline rush was making me nauseous, I was irritated... When I picked her up, though, I decided it would feel really good to run just as hard as we could, back and forth! I got so tired I practically collapsed on the grass, and she put her paws on my chest and almost knocked me over while trying to slather me with kisses. I was giggling and giggling. When I stood up, she thought it would be a good time to do "the train," and that made me laugh even more. ("The train" is a special game we have where she jumps up behind me and I grab her paws and hold them while we prance around...and yes, I chant, "Chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga...CHOO-CHOO!!!" It's great fun.) There were people outside who saw the whole thing, and somehow that made it even funnier. Then we got in the car and I had the moon roof and one window open (this is how she likes it), and I had the radio up loud, and it was so beautiful and springy outside as we drove fast down the interstate. There is something so freeing about driving fast with the windows down and the radio up on a sunny day. Intermittently, she would decide it was time to sit with me in the front for a minute to get a head scratch or give me a kiss. I talked to her like I'd talk to a person and laughed at my own dumb jokes. One of the radio stations played three of my favorite songs in a row, and all of them were about that freeing feeling driving in the car and just feeling really good about life in general. Every time I flipped to another station, I got another feel-good type of song. My heart felt like it was soaring, and I thought it might burst for the gratefulness I felt. Then guess what song came on? "What a Wonderful World." haha And the timing couldn't have been more perfect; it ended the second I put the car in park in our driveway.

I went inside to find my great guy making soft tacos for dinner. My other two dogs were rushing to get to me, and the cats were waiting patiently for their turn until the dogs calmed down. My puppy acted like I had just come home and she had been there the whole time waiting for me and jumped up to kiss me some more, as if we hadn't just spent the last 45 minutes in the car; she does this routine every single day. I was on top of the world.

Even driving home feeling that way, the thought crossed my mind that something bad could happen at any moment to take the feeling away. The difference between me a year or two ago and the me now is this: before, I would have been instantly depressed by that thought and panic-stricken at what awful thing could potentially unfold, because life can turn on a dime...I was always afraid to let myself feel too happy because I thought that was when the bad thing would come. But this time, I accepted the realization of the thought, and then I decided, yes, that might happen, but it might not, and I'm going to enjoy this feeling for as long as I can.

We watched American Idol (and I was extremely relieved that Brooke didn't get voted off - she left me a nice comment in one of my blogs a couple years ago, which really honored me, and I've been a MySpace fan of her music a long time, so I was really excited when I learned she was on the show and have been pulling for her). All was well until Elliot Yamin came on and held up his hand at the end of his performance that said WE MISS YOU, MOM. I looked at my boyfriend and said that she must have died, and it broke my heart. Then, of course, Ryan confirmed it and offered his condolences. I was already broken-hearted over David Cook's brother struggling with brain cancer and feeling really sad. And then Mariah Carey comes on and sings the song about loved ones dying and how you never really have to say goodbye. I went to pieces. Part of me was immensely sad for so many hurting people, and part of me was actually grateful in a really weird sort of way that I have three years under my belt after losing my mom...not that things are easy; I still struggle all the time...but the wound is not quite as fresh, and nothing is as bad as that first year. It was the worst time of my life that year...so dark, so seemingly hopeless. I'm not in that place anymore, and part of me was crying because I'm so glad I don't have to be in that awful place anymore. I've worked tremendously hard to get to the point where I'm at now, and it's taken a long time. I still get really down and depressed sometimes, obviously...any trigger can come along any minute and throw me off-guard. But again, the difference between then and now...before, I didn't know for sure if I would make it back out of the deep, dark hole...and now I know I will. I've come out of it so many times before that now I always believe I can do it again. So I succumb to the sadness when I need to, knowing that it is not going to feel THAT bad all the time, only for a while. Despite the down times, sometimes I am so overwhelmed with gratefulness for all the wonderful gifts in my life.

There is always pain from my mom's absence. The thought of her and the realization that she is gone are always running in the background of my mind. But lately I have been able to think more about the wonderful memories I have and how incredibly fortunate I was to have a mom like her. 1,000 years with her never would have been enough, and while I do feel cheated out of time with her since I only got 24 years, I am so very thankful for what little I did have.

I feel like something is shifting inside me lately, pointing me in a new and very good direction. My perspectives on things are easing into something lighter and freer. I will still have days where I am overcome with grief and can't think straight and doubt myself and where I'm going. I've accepted that as a reality of life. I had that just this past weekend and finally came out of it again.

That's what life is. Up and down, ebb and flow, wax and wane, a rollercoaster, a sine wave, whatever you want to call it. So cliche but so true. Nothing stays the same forever. Change is hard but vital. What is important is whether or not we choose to not allow the downs to cloud out our vision of the ups.

For when I succumb to self-doubt.

2008-04-01T08:33:00.003-04:00

Current mood: validated

I mentioned to some friends this past weekend (mother loss support group friends, to be exact) that I needed to make a list of my accomplishments in life and hurdles I have made it over so that I can review it whenever I start to doubt myself, am facing a new change in life that is scary, get depressed or anxious, etc. I know all these things in my mind already, but I still tend to focus on the wrong things sometimes...for instance, rather than focusing more on the fact that I was strong enough to get out of a very bad, verbally/emotionally abusive marriage even though I had no clue at first where I would go or how I would make it on my own (and spent two years living on my own and doing just fine, thank you very much), for some reason, the illogical, insecure part of me focuses more sometimes on the fact that "someone got tired of me and betrayed me/maybe something is wrong with me" even though the majority of the problem was obviously with him. I know it’s a lie from my subconscious. But give a person 100 compliments and one insult, and they will focus way more on that one insult and temporarily forget about the compliments...that’s just human nature. So to break myself of this habit, I am publishing my list!

My purpose behind this is not to brag about things I’ve accomplished or try to make it sound like I’m terribly awesome (that short-lived Taco Bell commercial where the 9 says, "I don’t have a big ego; I just love how awesome I am" comes to mind - haha!!). I’m simply keeping it here as a record for myself to go back and look at when I need a reminder. But, really, why am I apologizing for being proud of myself and fearing that I might be seen as a snob?? Our society seems to drill into us that if we are confident and proud of ourselves and list our accomplishments other than on a resume, it might mean we are conceited and full of ourselves. But there is a difference!!

The reason I’m publishing this here is that maybe some of you will be inspired to make your own lists. We all have times of serious fear, self-doubt, and insecurity, no matter who you are or how beautiful/handsome/rich/smart/famous you are. I think this is a good way to look back over the past so we don’t forget the many things we’ve done in life that we never thought we could do...but we did ’em...and, therefore, we can get over the next hurdle that makes its way into our life because we have made it before and we know how far we have come.

One of my close friends who was there when I brought up the fact that I wanted to make this list surprised me with a really sweet and thoughtful gift the next day...a list of 11 things she is proud of me for to help me get started! I was so touched. Her list for me is below.

1. Love of those around her (bonus for those with fur; wow, that’s a lot of bonus!)
2. Surviving without her mother physically present
3. Honesty with and love toward her undeserving father
4. Leaving an abusive husband
5. Confronting an inappropriate boss
6. Coping with anxiety and panic (I might add that it was quite crippling for a long time)
7. Nose piercing (this was a HUUUUUGE deal for me)
8. A focus on the good in the world
9. Realizing that she is worth it
10. Wanting life
11. Having faith

And here are the ones I’m adding:

12. I took a leap of faith getting my first "professional" job in the field I wanted even though I spent a long time fearing I might not be good enough.
13. I rescued the puppies.
14. I lost over 30 pounds and have kept it off for well over a year.
15. I recorded a few songs in front of my friends even though it had been forever since I really sang in front of anyone besides my boyfriend (the last time was at my mom’s memorial service in tribute to her, and several years before that when I used to sing in church before an anxiety disorder paralyzed me).
16. Again, I lived on my own for two years in my own place. Granted, I rented and sometimes had to borrow money, but I made it.
17. I’ve made it through the deaths of two cats, my bunny, and my hamster...I miss them every day, but I get through it.
18. I was two months premature and could have died shortly after I was born...but even then, I was a fighta!! I pulled through after a few weeks in the hospital, and here I am.
19. Some mean people hurted my feelins, but I got over it.
20. Every day, I am working on overcoming other fears that are too private to list here. And I know I can do it.

I’ll probably add more things as I think of them...I hope you’ll all make your own lists and maybe even ask your friends and family to add some items in for you. You might be surprised at, and touched by, the things people admire you for.

Another idea is to spontaneously make a list for some unsuspecting but deserving person in your life. I can’t even tell you how much my friend’s list means to me. Suddenly sending something like that is a sure way to make their day...month...even their life...you never know what it could do for somebody’s self-esteem.

Thank you all for your comments.

2007-12-27T18:04:00.000-05:00

I want to add that I'm thankful for the comments that have been left here in my journal. Even if I haven't responded to everyone personally, I read every word and am reminded that I am connected to other people in this process. 50% of keeping this journal is for my own healing, to sort out all the emotions and thoughts, and also to make a record of certain memories that I never want to forget. And the other 50% is with the hope that other people out there who are hurting will read it and maybe it will give them even a little bitty bit of hope to keep going because they know someone out there understands how they feel. Though grief of this sort is not something anyone wishes to have in common with someone, it's also good when we do so we can share in it and lighten each other's burden with simply knowing someone else understands.

4th Christmas without Mom

2007-12-27T17:46:00.003-05:00

On the first Christmas without my mom, she was still alive. But she was about a month-and-a-half shy of her death and was too sick to really do anything. I was stuck in a really deep, dark hole already because I knew the end was coming soon. I couldn't celebrate with my boyfriend's family. I didn't want to celebrate anything at all. And I couldn't even make myself leave my house and go be with my mom that day. I sat in the dark all day and night and didn't want to talk to anyone. I guess I knew it would be our last Christmas together, and I couldn't stand the thought of it being like that, of seeing her that way and it being my last Christmas memory of her. But I have regretted it every day that I was so stuck in my own pain of losing her that I couldn't even go spend that day with her while I still had her. I think that's really the only regret I have in my relationship with her. All the other time I had with her on this earth was well-spent and full of love and laughter, hugs and kisses, back scratches, funny faces, love notes tucked everywhere, and all the other things I will always remember and treasure. I did celebrate her last birthday with her about a month later, and I've written before that she told me it was the very best day of her whole entire life. But I still feel guilty for missing that Christmas with her. Even so, she and my dad were never into any holidays as much as I am. They always did the traditional stuff for every holiday when I was a kid because they felt kids should be able to experience it, but it was all for my sake. After I moved out as an adult, they didn't do much in the way of holidays anymore, not because they didn't care but because it just isn't as big of a deal to them. Me, I have to have all the traditions and make a big deal out of holidays most of the time. So most likely she's reading this over my shoulder going, "Jen, it ain't that big a deal; let it go already!" But even if it hadn't been Christmas, it was still one more day we could have had together. Still, you can't live your life consumed by regrets and what-ifs or you'll make yourself crazy. It is what it is, and what's done is done, and all those other cliches that really are true.

The last two Christmases before this one were pretty much just awful. I tried to get in the Christmas spirit and decorate the house, and it helped a little. And I did celebrate with my boyfriend's family both of those years and enjoyed being with them...but there was always the ever-present feeling of "who isn't here this year," and it would grab me so strongly and squeeze me until I broke down. I got SOOOO irritable about EVERYTHING, both during the days leading up to Christmas and on the actual day. In general, when it comes to missing her really bad, I usually get sad, then mad, and then it causes everything to irritate me even when none of those things are related to what is actually bothering me. And then Christmas would be over and I would have that letdown feeling that it had passed and I hadn't even enjoyed it at all. I had wanted to enjoy it but couldn't seem to embrace it completely because what was the point without her there. I know it's Jesus' birthday, but come on, Christmas is also about family and being with the ones you love most, and without her, it felt so empty.

This year, I'm thankful to say, was actually better. I determined early on that this year was going to be different, by God. I was not going to let myself get sad or swallowed up or irritable. I've been so happy the last few months when the puppies came into my life and changed everything and after going to the hypnotherapist (did I write about her yet?? I need to do that!), and I didn't want there to be any kind of damper on my warm feeling of general contentment in life. Sometimes I just get tired of being sad. I wasn't trying to ignore the fact that my mom's gone or not think about her. I just didn't want it to make me depressed. Well...that was a pretty unrealistic expectation of myself. Christmas without being sad about my mom being dead? Right. I had about three days the week beforehand where it hit me like a ton of bricks. I was totally surprised by it and caught off-guard. I strongly believe that we create our own realities and that we can control, to an extent, how happy we are based on deciding to be happy and living life in a way that reflects it and focusing on what we have to be thankful for. So I thought that by simply deciding I wasn't going to get depressed this year, well, then, I just wouldn't. But I failed to remember that I also strongly believe in letting myself feel what I need to feel, when I need to feel it. Once I get it out of my system, then I move forward. So when it hit me, I then tried deciding that even though it could touch me, it at least wasn't going to get to me as bad as it has before. That was much more realistic, and it worked fairly well, I think. I let it run its course for three days, I was irritable and everything got on my nerves, and I cussed and slammed things around. I couldn't really control it no matter how much I wanted it to go away, so I just gave in and let it happen, and then I was alright again. Somehow I really enjoyed Christmas Day, and I got through it much easier than in years past. They say that the anticipation is usually worse than the actual event, and most of the time that's true. At least, this Christmas it was. The ones before that were pretty much as hard as the days leading up.

Her birthday and the third anniversary of her death are coming up very, very soon. Those usually hit me even harder than Christmas. So we'll see what happens then. I'm still going to do my best not to let it suffocate and swallow me like it always has. But I'll also try to be more realistic and just realize I'm probably gonna be sad and depressed on certain days for the rest of my life. It doesn't mean I have to resign myself to it or automatically expect certain days to be awful. It just means I'm approaching them with a realistic attitude that leaves me open to hopefully be a little less sad with each year that passes. Or maybe one day when I'm 70 years old, the missing of my mom on one of those days will reach out and strangle me just like it did during the first year. There's no right or wrong pattern. But I just know that I desperately want to be happy for real, and even though her physical absence makes it a hell of a lot more challenging than it would otherwise be, I still think it's achievable. There's a lot of good in my life. A whole lot of love. Including hers, which can never go away.

Another thing that has helped me a lot this year is my puppy. Of COURSE I kept one of the puppies from the litter I rescued...who did I think I was kidding when I said I wouldn't? I love them all and always will, but this little girl is something extra special and has so enriched my world. With all my cats and dogs, I sort of have to keep going because they are depending on me just like children would, and I want to be there for them and give them the best life possible. They make my world go 'round.

I've decided that some of the best medicines in life are:

1) A cat purring.

2) A doggie licking my face.

3) A baby smiling at me. In the bathroom at work the other day, a woman came in with her baby girl in a stroller. I was having a rough day, but when that baby smiled up at me with big, trusting blue eyes, my troubles melted away. She grabbed onto my finger and plastered the biggest smile on her chubby little baby face, and suddenly I felt hope again.

Merry Christmas, Mommy. I love you.

Momma's love...Momma Dog, that is

2007-08-23T15:58:00.001-04:00

Two weeks ago, I rescued a litter of seven puppies from a crawlspace. I went inside and got each of them out one by one. I only found five pups at first and thought there might be more...some neighborhood kids saw me feeding them one day and started running around chasing them and their mom (who is a stray) and scared them half to death, so the mom started trying to relocate some of them. So I asked the mom to please show me where the rest of her babies were because I couldn't find them anywhere. She would follow me around everywhere and was okay with me taking her babies but wouldn't let me pet her yet. I took the five to the vet to get checked out and get their first round of medical care....came back home and saw Momma sitting in our yard with the other two babies. Now if THAT doesn't choke you up... She knew I was looking out for her kids. I was finally able to catch her as well and she is a sweet and gentle soul just like I knew she would be. I have only found a home for one puppy and am working on homes for the other six and her. It's been absolutely exhausting caring for them in addition to my own pets and it's frustrating when people promise to adopt and then back out. They're getting rowdier as they get bigger and want to be into everything. But it has been one of the most amazing experiences of my life. I saved eight lives, and you can't put a price on that...the feeling is indescribable. And to see how that mom brought me her kids so they would be safe and cared for...it reminded me of my own mom's sacrificial love and concern for her child above all else. Not to mention it's a lot of fun having seven puppies scrambling all over you trying to shower you with kisses. :)

the writing in the mirror

2007-07-25T16:39:00.001-04:00

I keep forgetting to post this! A few months ago, I stepped out of the shower one day and the mirror in the bathroom was steamed over and just barely starting to melt. Scrawled in the moisture were these letters: IFER. The last four letters of my name. They were clear as day. It wasn't like seeing pictures in the clouds; it was like someone had written them there with their finger. And yes, I believe it was from my mom. It didn't scare me. I asked my boyfriend later on if he had ever written my name in the mirror, and he swore he hadn't. No one else could have done it, and the letters were too clear for me to have imagined it. So now my dad's new nickname for me is Ifer. :) I wish I had thought to take a picture and could kick myself for it!!!
I also realized something recently. For a long time after my mom died (and even now occasionally), I seemed to have an uncontrollable urge to tell everyone she had died. I even told the cashier at a restaurant one time, and the poor girl was only about 16 and had no idea what to say in response (I think I wrote about that before). I just always have to find a way to work it into the conversation when talking to someone new who doesn't know. I always knew that it was like a way to get the elephant out of the room and explain who I am and why...but what I've realized now is that it's also my way of telling people, "My mom existed. She was here. And when she left, the whole world changed. You didn't know her, and your world may not seem any different, but yes, the world is in fact different and a little emptier without her in it." I wish I had more pictures of her. I get teased for taking so many pictures, especially of myself. But it's not a vanity thing. Once someone dies, pictures are one of the only things you have left. I want to preserve all the memories I can of the ones I love, and I also want to leave my mark through pictures as well...one day when I am gone, my child will look at those pictures of me and be comforted by them and dream of what I was like when I was young, and people will know "Jennifer wuz here." :) We existed, and our existence meant a lot. She still exists and we never stop existing...but you know what I mean.

a new lease on life :)

2007-07-25T16:22:00.001-04:00

So the hypnotherapy has changed my life! Really dramatically!
I have only been to two sessions, and it has turned my thinking, my perspective, my world around. The first one, like I said, was focused on letting go of fear. Almost the instant I walked out of the office, I was simply just not afraid anymore. Just like that. The second one was about letting go of anger (mostly toward my mom for smoking and toward God because he's so easy to blame)...and yes, after that one, I just wasn't mad anymore either. I'm actually quite blown away by it all! People have even been telling me that I seem so different, so happy and peaceful again. My aunt even told me I sound different on the PHONE. I wish I had gone a long time ago, but then again, I think I went at just the right time in my life. I am so happy. I was always happy...but now I am free to bask in it, to embrace it without fear, to frolic in a meadow if I wanna...that kind of happy. The things I always knew logically and tried to tell other people are now ingrained in my subconscious rather than being a piece of knowledge or wisdom I couldn't internalize all the way. I'm not consumed with fear anymore. I no longer look at myself with any kind of contempt. I feel freer and lighter than I have ever felt since I was a child. I have energy I didn't know I could have. From exercising regularly, I gained more physical energy...but what I'm talking about is mental and emotional energy. I was always so drained before, and now I have room for bliss and joy instead of gloom and doom. I don't mean to sound like I was unhappy with my life before! I never stopped recognizing or enjoying the good things in my life or being thankful for my loved ones. But it's just different now...more full and complete. My relationship with my boyfriend has always been very healthy and full of love and happiness, but a new life has even been breathed into our relationship. I feel almost like I am living in someone else's brain, and it's quite fabulous! I'm no longer inventing problems that aren't really there. My internal dialogue is no longer driving me bonkers! I feel like I am now free to be the real me, secure and goofy and alive and fearless. I went on vacation and enjoyed myself and truly relaxed for the first time ever. There was always somethinglike an internal jitter going on inside me before, and I was always nervous about something or other...now inside I am quiet and still and content. This is what my mom wants for me. It's what I want for myself. It's what I hope every girl and woman can discover.

Thoughts...about thoughts

2007-07-02T00:14:00.002-04:00

It's been a LONG time since I've really journaled. I don't know why. But I guess that's okay. I don't journal unless the need comes upon me, and tonight it has. The last couple times I saw my dad, he gave me more of my mom's things. Up until today, I'd had tons of her clothes and other little things stuffed in my car trunk and backseat for months. The last time I went to a support group meeting, I brought it up, and someone remarked that every time I got in my car or went to buy groceries and couldn't fit them in the trunk, it was a silent reminder of having to go through the stuff and it was probably eating away at me. She was right. So I finally got all the stuff out today and went through it. I had been putting it off because I remember how painful it was to go through her stuff that I had when I last moved. We had scheduled our house closing on Mother's Day weekend to give me a distraction and something to be excited about. But I ended up having to go through tons of her clothes while packing, so my plan kind of backfired. I was putting off doing it again because I knew it would hurt. But at the same time, putting it off longer and longer was hurting me too. I am getting rid of anything that I never saw her wear or that wasn't "her." That's the easy part. The hard part was seeing the clothes that were SO "her." But the hardEST part was finding one of her hairs on one of the dresses. I absolutely broke down seeing that real, tangible piece of her existence here. Something that wasn't just a memory or a feeling...something I could see and touch. That one hair is all I have left of my mom's person. The rest of her is ash, and while I am glad to have the ashes with me, they obviously don't show any of her form. I tried to wrap the hair up so I wouldn't lose it, and the ceiling fan blew it away. I fell apart even worse. I kept asking God to please give it back because it was all I had, and I felt like I was almost losing her all over again. I grabbed our dinky little flashlight that doesn't always work and went in a frantic search, knowing the chances of finding it were next to impossible. The hair was blonde and white, and in a house like ours with pets, there is always fur everywhere. My boyfriend, godsend that he is, came running with a better flashlight, turned off the overhead light, and got down on his hands and knees on the floor with me to look for it. And he found it. I was so happy. It's safely tucked away now. I never knew the hair from someone's head could become so very important. All the clothes still kind of smelled like her. I don't know how that is. My cat was smelling them and decided the stack was a good place for a bath and a nap (see photo), so my progress was halted for a while. He may have just liked it because it was soft, but it comforted me thinking that maybe he smelled his grandma and was comforted too. They loved each other a lot.

I've been going through a lot the last few months. Not just about my mom but a lot in general. I'm seeing a hypnotherapist-counselor and after one session am seeing some major changes in my thinking patterns and my perspective in general. She has really made it hit home for me that our thoughts create our world, our reality. Whatever we think, that is what we know, whether it is an accurate perception or not. To US, it is. Your mind and logic can know that a fear or feeling you have is irrational or not based in truth. But if your subconscious has believed something for a long time, it's extremely hard to retrain it to sync with your conscious mind. A lot of the issues and fears I have are for that reason. For so long I have felt like such a victim in life. Everything seemed to happen TO me, nothing felt in my control, and it was scary. I've been living in constant fear of who is going to be the next loved one to die or abandon me. My brain knows I can't live life that way and that I am so consumed with fear that I can't even fully enjoy being with my loved ones while I still have them. My brain knows that just because my ex-husband got tired of me and wanted out does not mean my boyfriend will do the same thing to me. But my subconscious is in such fear that I have never had any peace. I am so afraid that the moment I decide to become content and really happy in my life, that's when the next bad thing is going to hit. So I'm never relaxed or at peace. I'm always expecting the worst, trying to prepare for it, and I'm just sabotaging myself. But the session has helped me start to turn my thoughts and perspective around. I've been less fearful the past few days since. It's hard letting go of old thoughts and ways even when you know they're draining all of your energy and joy, because it's all you've known. I thought life and my experiences had jaded me. But actually, I let myself become jaded. And there's a difference. She kept reaffirming to me that nobody can hurt me emotionally anymore unless I continue to allow them to. I keep repeating that to myself and it works. I will find a way to let go of the damage from my ex-husband's words and actions and stop allowing it to hurt me. I also found out through the session that I don't know if I think I deserve to be happy. I mean, logically, I know I deserve to be happy. But some part of me feels that would be selfish. Why? Most likely because I watched my mom be that way. She was very unhappy with lots of areas of her life, and she allowed that to make her a martyr and sacrifice everything for everyone's happiness but her own. She taught me more about unconditional love than anyone ever has. She always made it her goal to make everyone she came in contact with feel special, worthy, and valuable as a person. But she never figured out how to do it for herself. I am much the same way, come to find out. Not that it is her fault, don't get me wrong, but she didn't fully love herself and was therefore unable to really teach me through example how to truly love MYself. I go around trying to make people feel good about themselves as much as I can and tell them all the good qualities I see in them and let them know they are worthy. But it is hard to really do that for myself. I told the hypnotherapist that one of the hardest things about losing my mom is knowing that no one can or will ever love me unconditionally like that again. Not in the same way as her. But she made me realize that I can love MYSELF that way. What a concept - I never looked at it that way before. If I made a mistake in my life, would my mom chastise me for it and tell me how stupid I was and that I couldn't make decisions? No, of course not. But yet I always do it to myself. I have decided to try and see myself through my mother's eyes and love myself accordingly. Or see myself the way I see my mother: human and broken sometimes but incredible and wonderful and valuable nonetheless, able to learn important life lessons through mistakes and tragedy. I have realized from talking with several friends lately that most of us are way too hard on ourselves. We are so afraid of not being accepted for who we are and we are our own worst critics. I may not be perfect, but I don't have to be. I will become comfortable with actually cutting myself some slack for not being perfect! I may not be the best bikini body on the beach, but dammit, I worked hard to lose 30 pounds and I'm going to wear my bikini on the beach and feel good about myself. I may not be the best at whatever, but it's not really a big deal. I don't really have to prove myself and my worth to everyone like I think I do. My mom had a poster in her home office that said I AM ME, AND I AM OKAY. She was trying. Maybe that's another mantra I'll start repeating to myself. Another one is something I found on Etsy by The Black Apple that says: I LOVE EVERYTHING IN YOU THAT HURTS. I have taped that to my mirror along with one that says I AM NOT BEAUTIFUL LIKE YOU, I AM BEAUTIFUL LIKE ME. And I will repeat those things to myself every time I look in the mirror. I love myself along with my hurts. If you tell yourself something enough times, eventually you will believe it and it will become part of who you are. While we may not have control over everything in our lives, we can have control over that, and that is so empowering to me. I have watched The Secret and am a big believer in it (although not to an extreme sense that some people take it). But the concepts never fully sank in until talking with the hypnotherapist. One of the things she had me visualize was walking up to the child version of myself, seeing myself as a little girl standing there in front of me. I reached into her (me) and started pulling out all the darkness and fear inside her. It was like a dark cloud, something real I could see in my mind, and I pulled and pulled like a clown pulling out a never-ending string of scarves tied together until I felt a release within me. Then my child and I lit a match and set the pile of darkness afire. It may sound hokey, but it was so powerful to me...seeing, even if only in my mind, the fears and negativity inside me as a visible darkness made me realize what poison itreally is. It's toxic and has been eating away at me over time. I had a wonderful, sweet, happy childhood...it was only when Ihit adulthood that everything seemed to go to crap. But the wounded parts of me are very childlike and make me feel small and weak like a child. So visualizing myself that way and healing her actually healed me. I am starting to feel braver. It's not all magically fixed all of a sudden. It takes constant work every day. But I'm tired of being so drained. And I want to stop looking to other people to validate me and realize I can do that for myself.

Now that I have done some things I've been putting off, I want to also finally finish the book Motherless Daughters and other books about this I've put off. A friend in one of my support groups told me she had come to the realization that she needed to stop looking at it as something depressing and change her perspective into looking at it as something that will help her. She said we're all looking for answers but keep avoiding this book that holds so many of the answers for us. It may be hard to work through it, but it's harder still to put it off and keep living in the same patterns.

The bunny (bunnies - there are two now) is still active in the yard a lot. I go out and talk to him like I'm talking to my mom sometimes. Even though I don't think he IS her, just from her, it helps me to have something I can look at, something alive and tangible, to talk to. I still haven't had a dream about my mom in months and months. I would really like to...I miss it.

Anyway, I swear there was more I wanted to write about, but I'm exhausted and I think it's time for sleep.

Paging nmrybb!

2007-05-09T15:41:00.001-04:00

nmrybb, I tried to email you about the comment you left for me, but I guess you aren't on AOL...please email me so I can send it to you. Thank you! :) I hope you see this!

Today is two years (written on Feb. 14).

2007-02-15T00:53:00.003-05:00

Today was not as bad as last year. It wasn't pretty and it was awful, but it was not the same pit of despair as last year. I thought I was reasonably okay until I started trying to fix something for breakfast and got mad and started slamming cabinet doors and cursing and yelling at no one. Then the anger gave way to the sadness. I didn't cry all day long like last year. It was more off and on this time. I can't so much as sniffle without one of my dogs getting in my face and licking me until I'm laughing, so there were a lot of doggie kisses going on today because there was a lot of crying. My animals stayed as close as possible to me all day long. They are so good at sensing when I'm sad and need them the most. I didn't go to work today cause I knew I'd be good for nothing anyway and felt I needed this time to feel. I used to sing a lot and decided to take some time today to sing some songs to my mom. It took me six times on each song to get through them without breaking down completely. I was glad to have had the chance today to allow myself to feel without any distractions. Life keeps me busy enough most of the time where the pain is running in the background but doesn't always have time to surface. Sometimes I think I need days where I can purposefully allow it to surface, face it, deal with it, and then I'm okay again. Several people remembered what today is and it helps me a lot knowing people have not forgotten her. My best friend did the eulogy and asked everyone to think of my mom every time they saw a penny. My mom had a thing about finding money on the ground and could spot a penny a mile away. People always tell me that they really do think of her when they find one. My dad, my aunt, and I constantly find them in very odd and unusual places, especially when we're feeling down. My boyfriend had roses delivered to the house today. He is never sure of what to do on this day anymore because he wants to be sensitive to how I'm feeling and said he wasn't sure whether or not to send them but decided to...I told him anytime he feels an urge to send me flowers, he should just go with it! He's been really understanding and sweet today, as always.

I want to write about my mom, about the kind of person she was. Some of it will be a repeat of things I've said before, but I don't care. She was beautiful...really beautiful...but she had no idea. She always had very low self-esteem and tried for a long time to find it through being loved by a man. She just had no concept of how wonderful a person she was through and through. I wasn't planned. My parents weren't married when she got pregnant. She was 35 and didn't know a thing about babies and she was scared to death! On top of it all, I was born two months too early and had to be on a heart monitor a long time, and she was always afraid something would happen to me. But over time her nervousness simply gave way to pure love. She learned everything as she went, and she decided that if you love a child enough, they will always end up forgiving you any mistakes you ever made with them. She always told me that. She never did find what she was looking for in any man, I guess because she had not found it in herself first. Her first husband burned her car up for the insurance money without telling her. Her second husband cheated on her with his sons' little league coach. She met my dad at the skating rink. They were happy for several years, and I don't think they got married only because of me. I think it was only later when they became unhappy. But no matter how much stress she was under or how much work she had to do, she always made time for me. She always took off work on my birthday and to be there at the end of the lane on every field day in elementary school. There's a Faith Hill song called "You Can't Lose Me" that was always really special to us because it talks about a mom doing that. She was open with me about her life and didn't try to hide anything she ever did from me...and I could always tell her anything in return. She held my head whenever I was sick and throwing up. Any time I was sick, she stayed up late with me if I couldn't sleep and we watched funny shows. One time the schoolbus had come and I was running late to catch it and fell on our sidewalk in front of the house. I was in middle school, and you know what a horrible time in life that is anyhow, and I was mortified that the other kids might have seen me. The busdriver must have seen me because she stopped and tried to wait for me. My mom ran outside and crouched down behind the bushes with me until the bus left. Maybe in some circumstancesit would have been best for her to tell me to buck up and get on the bus cause falling wasn't the worst thing in the world. But I will never forget the fact that she hid WITH me. I knew I had an ally for life. Even when I was embarrassed or ashamed, I could have my mama right there with me no matter what anyone else thought of me because she was my biggest fan. She never put pressure on me to succeed - she just constantly praised anything I ever did and made me feel like I could do anything. We liked to do word puzzles together. Sometimes, even as an adult, I would make them up for her, and she would be so excited about doing them. She loved CSI, and she had the computer game, and we had so much fun trying to solve the mysteries. I think of those two things a lot...the fact that no one else will ever really care again to do my puzzles or play that game with me. She worked out of our home since I was 12. A few months before she died, it was no longer enough to make ends meet, and she got a job at Publix as a bagger. She LOVED that job. One of her favorite things was people watching, and she got to do a lot of that there. She never looked at it as "just" a bagging job. She looked at it as getting out of the house, talking to funny people, and doing the best job she possibly could. You aren't supposed to tip people at Publix, but the customers would always try anyway...she would tell them she could get in trouble if she took it, so they would drop the money and walk off - that way they weren't handing it to her and she couldn't get in trouble! Even though she didn't know her own value, it was her mission to make everyone around her feel as good about themselves as possible, even people she only saw at the grocery store for a few minutes. She had a boss she was intimidated by for a long time. Then she decided one day she was tired of being scared of him and was going to wear him down with her kindness. And she did. He actually came to her funeral and shed tears. She never forgot anyone's birthday. She was big on writing thank you notes. She was big on notes in general and was always leaving them in surprise places, like my lunchbox or wherever, just to say she loved me and I was special. She gave me a book of poems from moms to their kids once, and she wrote notes all the way through it and underlined everything she wanted to make sure I read. I kept it on my bookshelf and one day after she'd been gone a few months, I saw a piece of paper sticking out of it that wasn't before. I pulled out the book and the note was one she had written back then, but the way it was worded sounded like she'd written it from the other side. I knew she pulled it out because she knew I needed that. She wrote a song for me when I was a baby and sang it to me all my life. I still remember every word, and it is beautiful. I used to love doing her makeup (big surprise there). One time she needed a haircut and didn't have money and I volunteered to do it myself...it was a complete disaster and she told me she loved it. Then when she got cancer and her hair was really falling out, she asked me to cut it all off for her, and I did...and she embraced her baldness with all the grace of a queen. She was always such a cut-up and known for her dry sense of humor, which she kept right up til the very end. Her 60th birthday was only a couple weeks before she died, and she came over to my house and we spent the day in bed reading silly tabloid magazines, napping, and talking. She was too weak to do anything else. She told me that was the very best day of her whole life. Those five days she was in the hospice, I only left her side to use the bathroom because I was afraid it would happen while I was gone. I slept in a bed they pulled in for me that was right next to her. I was watching her face as she took her last breath and holding her hand. She always said I was her greatest accomplishment. It is because of her that I like who I am today. I decided after she died that I had spent too much time berating myself and despising things about myself and I didn't want to die someday never having known what I was worth. So I make myself like myself no matter what, even when it's hard. If she thought I was so special, then darnit, I must be. More than anything, she taught me what love is and how to love.

I am heartbroken today. But...Mom...happy Love Day to the person who first taught me love and who gave it unconditionally and unselfishly. I overflow with it because of you. You are everything good and pure and lovely. I can't believe you've been gone two years. Sometimes it feels like it was yesterday that you left, and sometimes it feels like it's been an eternity already without you.

Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who tried to call me and email me today. I am overwhelmed (in a good way) by the number of friends who have remembered what today is and who took the time to send me a note to let me know they didn't forget and to say they were thinking about me. You all don't know just how much your notes meant to me today when I was so sad...reading them and feeling your encouragement gave me so much hope and comfort. I am blessed to have all of you in my life. Some of you I don't even know that well, and some of you I only know because we have been united by a common loss, but I am thankful for each and every one of you. You are part of why I still have hope and why I know I must keep going. You never know just how much a little note can mean to somebody.

This is one of the songs I sang to my mom today. I love it because it's not only about a mom and daughter but also about..........pennies.

"Twenty-Six Cents" by The Wilkinsons

She sat all alone on a bus out of Beaumont
The courage of just 18 years
A penny and quarter taped to a letter
And Momma's goodbye in her ears

She watched as her high school
Faded behind her
And the house with the white picket fence
Then she read the note
That her Momma had wrote
Wrapped up with 26 cents

Chorus:
When you get lonely, call me, any time at all
I'll be there with you, always, anywhere at all
There's nothing I got that I wouldn't give
And money is never enough
Here's a penny for your thoughts
A quarter for the call
And all of your Momma's love

A penny and quarter
Buys a whole lot of nothing
Taped to an old wrinkled note
And when she didn't have much
She had all Momma's love
Inside that old envelope

Oh, it's been years since Momma's been gone
But when she holds the coins she feels her love
Just as strong

What Helps Me Cope

2006-11-03T17:11:00.001-05:00

Someone on a message board asked me recently what I've done to ease the pain...mostly, these are the things that have helped me:

1) Believing that she did not cease to exist; she simply moved on to a different world/dimension. Yes, it hurts because she is not here in this world with me anymore. But she is not gone. She sees me, and the bond we have could never just disappear. I don't believe that this world is all there is...and I do believe there is a God who loves us tremendously even though things we go through in this life do not seem fair. We are here to learn certain things, often very painful things...life is a series of lessons...and through each experience, we learn and hopefully allow it to strengthen us. I've really been trying to focus lately on the fact that, cold as it seems to say this way, death is a part of life and it is what it is...I can't change it no matter how unfair it seems. So I have to try and accept the fact that we are separated to an extent right now but will not be that way forever. It's not my turn to be there yet, and I will not cut my life short to make it happen. How sad that would make her if I did. I also try to focus on the fact that now she can see me all the time, wherever I am, so she can watch out for me even more than she was able to when she was alive...she always worried about me, so I know she likes that.

2) Remembering that she wants me to be happy and live a fulfilled life. She isn't going to be insulted if I start living my life and focusing on other things; she will be glad because she is my mother and she wants what's best for me. I refuse to just lay down and give up, even when the pain threatens to overtake me, which it still does sometimes. I made a conscious decision to live my life the best I can. Period. I will not simply survive this life. I will get all that I can out of it. Part of that is to honor her but also to honor myself and to fulfill my purposes for being here. That doesn't mean I don't still sob sometimes and wonder how in the world I'm supposed to go the rest of my life without her here...I try to be realistic in my expectations and understand that now and then there are going to be emotion triggers and very, very bad days where I hurt so bad I can't even see straight. But there's still that thing deep inside my soul that whispers, "You will come out on the other side of this pain again." I refuse to attempt to numb myself through sleep, drugs, alcohol, workingtoo much, or busy-ness. The only way to get through this is to face it head on. I will feel what I need to feel and not stifle the emotion and grief. I will not use things or people simply to distract me from the pain. I will find the balance between doing a healthy amount of activity and work to keep me productive and doing so much of it that I find that maybe I distracted myself but also wasted my life away in a blur of busy-ness.

3) Talking, talking, talking. I talk through my journal, through these groups, to the members of my support groups, to my friends and family, out loud to my mom and God. To keep it bottled up inside will only slow down the process, and it's gonna eventually come out again one day anyhow, probably in a very drastic way. People think they are ignoring the reality of what's happened by not saying it out loud or allowing themselves to even accept that it happened. But by not talking about it with people who can relate, it alienates you and makes you bear the weight alone when you don't have to. I suppose there is a balance between not talking enough and talking about it too much to the point where it's all you focus on. The point of talking it through is to help get you to the point where it's not all-consuming anymore and to have others to go to for support. Simply knowing there are "others like you" is a comfort in and of itself, and when you gather together, it strengthens you.

4) Finding comfort in the simple things in life that remind me there's still good and hope in the world - spending time with my pets, friends, and family; doing hobbies that make me feel good about myself; working toward my goals; birds singing; good-tasting food (though trying not to see food as a comfort but as something my body needs and an enjoyment I can appreciate, which I know is hard); and seeing people helping people, which brings me to my next one.

5) Trying to reach out to others who are going through it. Trying to help others feel their way through this also helps me. When you make a conscious effort to help other people, it shifts the focus away from your own consuming problems and fears and gets you outside of your bubble. Through observing others, you can decide how you want to get through this and what you DON'T want to do. It's hard to be objective about yourself; it helps to see outside your own world and to try and alleviate some of the pain others are feeling. It gives both of you hope and gives some purposeto the loss so that it doesn't seem quite as in vain. At the same time, there's that balance again...if you immerse yourself completely in nothing but connecting with others in the same boat, you run the risk of stunting your progress because it's still all you're thinking about. There are many other ways to help people in other situations...there is a huge lack of hope in this world, and trying to help others see it helps both of you and keeps you aware of the big picture.

6) Exercising. It's so well-known that it helps you not only physically but mentally and emotionally. I started exercising a few months after my mom passed because I couldn't seem to stay awake anymore; all I wanted to do was sleep. I've been exercising at least three times a week since then, and when I miss it, I'm more likely to start feeling really bad overall. There is healing power in that seratonin your brain releases when you exercise. If you also feel you might need medicine from your doctor to boost that seratonin, it's not a weakness; I know from experience that it can be a miracle. But it's not a substitute for all the other things I've mentioned.

I hope I don't sound like it just comes easy to me; it doesn't, and I have to work at it. But I choose to.

Mirror, Mirror

2006-09-15T15:49:00.002-04:00

Something has recently hit me...I've realized that every time I look in the mirror, I am hoping to see something of my mom looking back at me that I can connect with. I don't mean her ghost in the reflection; I think I'm just hoping to see a lot of her in my face because she's my mom and I want to see her features in me. Which is odd, because I never looked much like my mom at all. We both have naturally brown hair, but that's about where the similarties end. We both have green eyes but a totally different shade. We have different heights and builds. Most of my facial features come from my dad. I don't mean to say that I wish I didn't look like my dad. I think it's just because my mom is gone, I want to know that I look like her, all the while knowing that I don't. But even though our features are different, somehow, some way, when I see my reflection I do see something of her. I can't pinpoint exactly what it is or if it's just wishful thinking, but there is some kind of recognition there, like I am not only looking at myself but at my mother's daughter. If that makes any sense. It was just strange to suddenly realize that I've been seeking something from my own reflection to keep me feeling connected with her.

On another note, I haven't seen the bunny for about two months. My boyfriend saw him once a few weeks ago, but I wasn't there. Everytime I'm standing in front of a window that overlooks the backyard, I look for him and always feel my heart sink a little bit when he's not there.

I may sound like I'm doing awfully well lately, and I suppose I am for the most part, but it changes often. My main deal lately, even though I push it as far back from my mind as I can, is knowing that my dad will probably someday remarry. I've already written about it a little bit in here before, so I don't think I'll venture down that road again...I just know it's going to hit me like a ton of bricks and knock the wind right out of me if he ever gets serious with anyone, and I'm not looking forward to it even though I want him to be happy and not feel alone.

For now, I'm trying to throw myself into my new house, my pets, and my love and how I am so thankful for them; keep exercising because it helps me stay balanced; and really pay attention to the minute details of life and the world that make me smile. Because those things are still there. Many times it just takes more effort to see them. Grief has a way of fogging up your mind and distorting everything until you are sure you are so damaged that you can never possibly be normal or fully functioning again. I still get that down sometimes, believe me. Most of the time it helps just to wake up to a new day and start fresh. 9/11 was really hard for obvious reasons, and I kept feeling like I had to watch the stuff on TV because it would be a dishonor not to. But after five years, I still don't think I was ready. I also could not separate the death of my mom from it. I felt so much for the people who lost loved ones so tragically and suddenly with no time whatsoever to prepare...they blinked and the person was gone. Then I kept reliving her last moments, her last breath, holding her hand by her bed. I cried a lot for the other people and for myself and, until I fell asleep that night, was lost in thoughts of how you never know when something is going to blindside you. I have to fight not to let that knowledge control me or else I will live in absolute fear and panic all the time. I guess there's a fine balance between living your life like there's no tomorrow and not letting it become an obsession. I remember my ex-husband saying one time that every time he left the house, I looked at him like I might not ever see him again. I think it irritated him (as did most things I did and didn't do). I was definitely more insecure back then than I am now, but the internal struggle not to let that kind of fear take over me is still present, especially since sudden loss has happened to me too many times already. I lived in complete fear back then, and I don't want to live the rest of my life that way. But sometimes it really gets to me wondering who will be next and I can't even stomach it. I think I've already written some about that too. Oh, well.

Some thoughts on life

2006-08-30T14:13:00.002-04:00

I thought I would go ahead and post this on one of my "good days," since tomorrow I could very well not feel this way at all. :) But I think, deep down, this is how I really feel.

I'm taking the liberty to post my answer to my friend who asked:

whats the point of life... if we're all to die anyway? regardless of the 100 years that we exist on this planet.... we are still going to end up in the same place.... so whats the point?

I think the point (or one of them) is to make the best use of whatever time we do have to connect with other people and help them see the good that still exists in the world in spite of the pain. I don't think we are here by accident...even if I were not brought up to believe in God, I can't imagine ever believing that we were formed by coincidence from some slimy matter at the bottom of a pond...the human body and the world and everything in it are far too intricate, far too complicated and amazing, to have simply evolved that far, even over many years. We have the capacity for love, kindness, intelligence, and complicated psychological workings going on inside our brains. I don't think those things could have just happened because some atoms got together or exploded or however they say it happened. So if we were created by someone, there must be a reason. I think our job is to try and recognize what strengths and weaknesses we have and to understand ourselves in order that we might learn what our individual purposes are and recognize that we each have something to offer. Even though we were created for a reason, there is bad in the world largely because we are not perfect and neither is the world we live in. I cannot fully explain why there is disease, death, and suffering other than to say that those things teach us and maybe make us long for the world after this one where those things simply do not exist. But while we may long for that place, while we are here, we have a responsibility to learn all that we can, help all those we can, and make the best use of this time that we can. I think every person impacts every other person. Like ripples in a pond. I don't believe any man is an island, and I think if he tries to be and shuts people out to avoid getting hurt by losing them, he will find at the end of his life that he wasted it by never connecting. I think we're here to help and to BE helped, to teach andto learn...it's a give and take because we all have something to offer and we all have things we need to glean from others. Everything we do affects other lives, which in turn affects many, many other lives as the ripple keeps going. Eventually these ripples may inspire someone to make history. I really don't believe that "this" is all there is. I have personally begun to believe in the possibility of reincarnation, which is something I never believed in before, but lately it makes a lot of sense to me. But I absolutely believe in heaven either way. Like I've said before, whether we live one lifetime or several, I think the chain of events we experience weaves together for a greater good, even if we cannot fully see it. I think if people lived the same life forever and never died, we'd probably sit around and let time keep passing without ever really making an impact...generally, the less time people have to do something, the quicker it will get done and the less time will be wasted. If we had all the time in the world to get things done in our lives, there would be no sense of urgency, no reason to try and make a difference in the NOW.

I know sometimes it feels impossible that you will ever truly smile or feel hope again. But I also have a feeling there are several things and people in your life that still mean a great deal to you...hang onto the little moments in life...when your best friend encourages you or makes you laugh, when you see someone helping someone else, when something tastes really good, that feeling of just waking up after you slept really good, the smell of flowers, when a puppy licks your face. Maybe it sounds too simplistic, but holding onto those little things grounds you and helps you remember that there are still many, many things to enjoy and experience in your life. When you see those things, make note of them and let them sink in. Though you feel now that you have no purpose and no direction in life, you have much to offer to the world through the people around you and the relationships you build. Right now you are already making a difference in the lives of children whether you think so or not. By caring for them, you are helping to shape them for the better. Look at your beautiful little niece and remember that even though there is death in this world, there is also a promise of life and hope in every child. Look at your interests and hobbies, things you used to enjoy doing before and maybe have lost the energy to do anymore...those things may give you a clue to ways in which you can find purpose and fulfillment. Life is not pointless. It just feels like it is because of what you're going through, but it's not. Think of how very much your mom loves you and how she molded you and shaped your world...though her life was too short, was it pointless? No way. She played a part in creating her children, teaching them about life and how to love. In turn, all of you will influence those around you mostly because of the things she instilled in you, and the people you influence will influence others. I don't think every person has the same exact purpose in life, and I don't think anyone has just one purpose, but many. I think honest joy and fulfillment are things that can really be attained and that people get them largely because they decide to and then they make choices that get them there, not just because it happens to them or because they're free from heartache (because no one is). And while doing things is important, I also think many people become so obsessed with finding their purpose in life and DOING things that they forget to just live, to just BE, and end up floundering around. I think when we try to do the best we can to love the people in our lives and use the resources we have, we end up finding our purposes naturally.

Just like you, I've felt many times that everything's pointless, like the old bumper sticker - "Life sucks, and then you die." But deep down, I don't really think it's true. It's just a matter of perspective. A horrible tragedy has a way of taking your healthy perspective on life and twisting it up, stomping on it, and making it so unrecognizable that all you can see anymore is your pain. That new perspective is inaccurate because your pain has skewed your thinking. I'm trying to accept the fact that not everything in this world can be explained and that's just how it is. We can't humanly explain everything because we don't have the ability to see far enough ahead or behind. I think most things happen for a reason...whether every single thing happens for a reason, I can't say for sure. But I believe there's a God who loves us very much and who has all the answers we don't even have the capacity of understanding or handling even if we knew them.

Whether you realize it or not, you influence me for the better. Reading your emails is like looking in the mirror. Your words give validity to all the things I've felt. I think in general people just want to know that someone "gets" them. Despite the really bad thing that brought us together, having people to relate to as we walk through it will get us through.

As an after-note, for all my talk about connecting with people and being there for them, I often find that I do a poor job of it. Either I get busy or just wrapped up in my own pain or problems, and I don't feel like talking to anyone, don't feel like being around anyone. I just want to be left alone. And then a few days later I may have a spurt where I feel a desperate need to connect again and be around people. I guess it's just part of the ebb and flow of life. I also feel the greatest responsibility to stay connected with my immediate family and friends, and they have to take precedence, but I sometimes still feel guilty for the other really important people in my life that I neglect to stay in touch with. I'm also pretty admittedly selfish with my time. I need a lot of alone time and time just being at home to stay sane. I hope I don't make anyone feel bad in the process.

it hurts so much...

2006-06-27T12:00:00.002-04:00

The bunny hung out in our backyard all Sunday morning. It's still the same size and hasn't grown any. Lately when I see him, it does still comfort me, but at the same time, I can't help but think, "I want to see HER, not a bunny." The fact that he also looks like the pet bunny I had not so long ago and for whose death I feel completely responsible also takes me back to the guilt and pain of that as well sometimes. Yesterday, I read something I'd written about him a while back about how I used to lay on the floor and he'd come up and start digging in my hair and he would lick my face, and it tore me up. He is gone, my mom is gone, and now I have to settle for a bunny in the yard that I can't even touch. I'm thankful he's there and I do believe she sends him, and I hope she always will, but it can never be a substitute. I was doing so good for a long time, it seems, and here lately I have not been able to get my mom off my mind and I cry a lot over the unfairness of it all and the sheer missing her. The knowledge and awareness of the void inside me is always present. I don't think there will ever be anything that will make that go away. The thought of her absence is never far from my mind, but lately it has been surfacing a whole lot and threatening to pull me back down. I think part of it might be everything that's been happening as far as moving forward with my boyfriend, getting a new house, knowing that we'll be getting married in the near future, and she isn't physically here to see any of it. I know she can always see me. But I cannot physically walk her through my new home from room to room and hear her tell me how happy she is for us and how glad she is that I have someone who loves me so much. She won't be there when I get married again or have a baby. It's almost enough to make me glad I got married to the wrong person before just cause she was at the wedding. I feel lost sometimes, like I have no true direction anymore without her constant guidance and assurance. I feel damaged. Like I will never fully recover from this gaping hole in my life. Like there will always be something sort of "off" about me, something not quite right, because she is gone. Like I can be happy and fulfilled but only to a certain extent. I don't know if that is really true or if it's just the pain and fear making me feel that way.

And now today my cat is in surgery. She lives with my dad, but I still consider her mine as well because we had her since I was 12 years old. I can't explain how special she is to our family. She really clung to my mom more than my dad or me for the most part, but since my mom's death, she has barely left my dad's side. She can't stand it when he leaves the house and acts like she's afraid he will never come back like my mom. She follows him around the house, sleeps with him, always has to be near him. And he has leaned on her for support just as much. It's just the two of them in the house now. She has really helped him pull through. He found a lump on her and took her to the vet this morning, and they were so certain that it was probably cancer that they decided they had to operate on her today. So we are just waiting to find out what will happen. The wound of losing my mom is still so fresh, even after a year and a half, that I just don't know if we can handle going through another loss. We had to go through losing my first cat a few years ago, and the four of us (me, Mom, Dad, and this cat) just about lost our minds with grief...that's when the chain reaction started...then it was my hamster, then my divorce, then my bunny, then my mom...I know loss is part of life, but dammit, why does it have to be so prevalent in mine and all in a row instead of being spread out so that I could have some hope of surviving it with some shred of sanity. If I had a choice, I would never opt to spend my life without any of my loved ones just because eventually we all die. The experience of having them all in my life is well worth it. But as my dad said recently, sometimes it is so dark that you feel like you can't even feel your way through the pain.

Tell me - how am I supposed to go the rest of my life without my mom? How did I even survive the last year and a half? I know I can do it, deep down, but mostly because I know I HAVE to do it so I won't let her down. All she was worried about was if I would be okay, so I just have to be. I know she wants to see me achieve everything that's still left for me to do. But it HURTS. It hurts so very very much.

Another visit...

2006-06-05T15:35:00.002-04:00

Guess who I saw for the first time at my new house???!!

Mom's bunny!!

Same size, color, everything. It COULD be just another bunny...but I don't think so. :) One of my dogs was barking in the backyard and I looked out the window to see what it was (which I don't normally do because he barks at EVERYthing), and the bunny was not too far from him in the nextdoor neighbor's yard...he just sat there with my dog barking at him and didn't seem afraid. I went outside to get a closer look, and he waited a while before he hopped away.

I'd had a REAL bad day up to that point...just one of those days when every little thing that could go wrong did. Just about when I felt I was about to reach my breaking point is when I saw the little guy. I was fine the rest of the day. I can't tell you what it does for me to see that bunny.

Mother's Day

2006-05-16T12:48:00.002-04:00

Well, I made it through my second Mother's Day without my mom. I always feel like actually surviving these milestones is a huge accomplishment. My boyfriend and I bought a house and set the closing for the Friday before Mother's Day on purpose so that I would have something to really distract me from the holiday. Not that I ever stopped dreading the day inside or forgot what the day was, but being all excited about the new house really helped me for the most part. It was a great plan until it backfired. I forgot that I have a lot of my mom's things I would have to go through while packing and moving. I found a lot of her clothes, her glasses, a mystery book she'd been reading and never got to finish, one of the tabloid magazines we'd laughed over on her birthday last year, a big stack of cards people had sent her while she was in the hospice and cards people had sent me after her death, and several things we'd taken to the hospice. There were also pamphlets the hospice had given us about dealing with cancer and coping with death. The thing that made me lose it the most was a packet of cryptogram puzzles I had made for her. She loved doing those, and I used to make them for her a lot just for fun. I would make the puzzles favorite quotes about mothers or sayings she had ingrained in me my whole life or things we thought were funny. There was also a crossword I had made about all her favorite TV shows. I've made puzzles for her like that since I was little, and she always humored me by doing them and always acted like they were the most creative, wonderful thing she'd ever seen. Seeing her handwriting where she'd filled in the answers was comforting and heartwrenching at the same time. I also found some cards I had made for her for the Mother's Day before she died and several notes where I'd written MOM IS A TURD (don't ask me where that came from, but it's been a joke since as far back as I can remember.) When I went through her clothes, I was actually able to bag up a lot for Goodwill because a lot of the clothes were just clothes...nothing she wore a lot or that I really associate with her. A year or so ago, I wouldn't even have been able to part with any of it, even things I knew she'd never worn. But there were a few things she ALWAYS wore that were completely "her," and I didn't part with those. She had two nightgown-type robes that my grandmother, her mother, gave her years ago - one teal and one pink- and she wore them so much she almost wore them out. Our cats loved to sleep in her lap when she was wearing those. There were also a couple shirts she wore all the time that had gotten ragged. When my mom was young, she was a real fashion plate. She got her hair done once a week and always had to have the latest fashions and makeup - that definitely passed down to me! Not that I'm a fashion plate like she was, but the near obsession with clothes and makeup is definitely there. But when she got older and started working at home for herself, she stopped really caring about her appearance at all. It wasn't until she started working outside the house again, as a bagger at Publix, that she started caring again, and not that she became obsessive, but it was really nice to see her taking pride in herself again and developing the self-confidence that she had let wither away for so many years. She loved that job! She was a people-watcher and was endlessly fascinated just seeing strange people in public. The job got her out of the house and let her people-watch all day long! She was so proud of herself for getting back out there and never looked at it as "just" a bagging job. She made so many friends with the customers there that people were constantly trying to tip her even though Publix doesn't allow it and she could get in trouble if she accepted any. She politely refused a tip from one lady, and the lady just wouldn't hear of it, so she left the tip on her cart and promptly walked away...she wanted my mom to have it and reasoned that my mom couldn't get in trouble if it was just money she "found" and no one had handed it to her. She'd only been working there for a short time when we found out she had cancer, and it wasn't long before she had to quit working there. They told her she'd have a job there again once she recovered, but of course she didn't recover. Even her boss, a mean tyrant of a man who was known for making employees cry, had been won over by my mom's relentless kindness and humor to the point where he considered her a friend and my dad saw him shed tears at her funeral. I'm just rambling on now from my original talking about moving and going through her things, but I'm so glad my mom got that job even for a short while...we got to see the old Marilyn come back out again and see her start to like herself again and feel proud of herself. Anyway, I bawled for a couple hours while going through her things on Mother's Day and said out loud a few times, "I miss you, Mommy." I cried hard and got it out. At 6:00, we went to my boyfriend's mom's house for Mother's Day dinner. His aunt, uncle, cousin, and grandfather were also there. At first I was nervous about going to celebrate another mom, but I adore her, and without actually saying anything directly about it, they were very considerate of how I was holding up and how the day was difficult for me. The next day during more moving, his stepdad asked me if Mother's Day had been hard and how I was doing, and he let me talk about it. I'm so grateful that they know the right balance for touchy things like this...they seem to be careful not to say anything that would hurt me but don't walk on ice not to bring it up either. It's nice that they pay enough attention to days that they know will be hard for me. Some people tend to forget about things like that, but I've been lucky in that the people who are closest to me don't forget. Anyway, so I made it through. I guess the next big one is going to be trying to make it through my birthday again. That was the worst "holiday" I experienced after she died. For now, I'll start unpacking and making our new house a home. Several things have happened since we decided to buy this house that make me believe my mom's blessing is on both of us and that she approves of him and trusts him with me.

One evening as I was leaving work, I was overwhelmed with frustration and fear about leaving my house, the only place I've ever lived by myself and that symbolizes my capabilities to me. I wasn't questioning at all whether I was doing the right thing and with the right person. I was just scared. I started crying at work (thankfully, no one else was there) and was panicking a little. I went to get on the elevator to leave and as soon as the doors opened, I saw a shiny penny on the floor inside. I think I've mentioned more than once that my mom had a thing for pennies, and to see it sitting there waiting for me right when I was scared and freaking out, I couldn't help but be reassured like she was telling me everything really was going to be okay. Then on Cinco de Mayo (which, incidentally was the day my first cat passed away a few years ago), my boyfriend came over so we could make Mexican food. I was feeling sad and scared again. He called me when he was parked outside and said, "If you look out your front door, I think you can see your bunny!" That would be THE bunny I've written about several times. I had prayed and prayed so hard that I would see him one more time before I move and was beginning to get depressed that I hadn't, and I knew I only had a week left to live there. I looked out the front door, and sure enough, there he was. He was sitting right next to my front porch. I looked at him and he looked at me for a while, and then he hopped into the backyard. I ran to the back door to see him and he was sitting at the top of the hill back there. My boyfriend happened to have a camera from work in his car and took some more pictures (I'll add them when I get them on my computer). The bunny let him get about ten feet away from him, which is extremely close for a wild rabbit. He just sat there letting him take flash pictures of him over and over! After a while, he decided it was time to hop into the brush and we couldn't see him anymore. But it made me feel wonderful. God and my mom knew I needed that, and it almost made me feel singled out and special. :)

There's never any replacement for having my mom physically here with me. Nothing could ever come close to seeing her beautiful smile, hearing her audibly say, "I love you," or feeling her hug. But there are times when I actually catch myself feeling a little bit lucky that my mom can see me wherever I go and can watch out for me and know if what I'm doing is the best thing for me or not. She seems to "contact" me most when I'm the most upset about something just to let me know to calm down and I will be alright, and it really does help to reassure me.

Thanks?

2006-04-26T16:02:00.002-04:00

I thought this was really profound...there are many things, bad things, that have happened to me that I can honestly say I'm grateful for. One of them is my former marriage and resulting divorce, which, with all the baggage it left me with, taught me so much about sticking up for and loving myself and which also prepared me to be with the right person I am with now. Like I just said in my last entry, I don't know that I'll ever actually be grateful that my mom died. But this writing is a beautiful testament to the fact that all the bad experiences are what grow and purify us. And there ARE great things that can come out of any horrible loss or experience if we will allow them to.

Prayer of Thoughts by John W. Doll

     Thanks for the hardship and pain I experienced as a child; the sickness and death I survived. They were only lessons I learned in becoming a man, and not punishment and guilt for things I had only thought in my mind.
     Thanks for the painful need for acceptance I had as I tried to replace the loves I had lost. The need gave me an understanding and empathy for others with even a greater need for love and understanding than myself. It gave me the way to gain my acceptance by giving my love to other even more barren hearts.
     Thanks for the loss of a parent, so needed, so loved. It taught me by example of my mother's equal loss and how strong a human can be in the face of tragedy. Her dignity and strength were beyond my comprehension and yet, through her example, I learned.
     Thanks for the strength and hope through each stage of life to continue to improve and understand not only my own life but also all my brothers and sisters of the world. It is only through loving ourselves that we can understand the meaning and true beauty in the greatest gift of love.
     Thanks above all for being a caring and loving God who resides within each of us to remind us that impossible is possible and that forgiveness is not only possible but necessary.
     And most importantly of all, thank you for reminding us that love is the key to all the questions, fears and desires in our small but beautiful world of yesterdays, todays and tomorrows.

John W. Doll (c) 1999 from Chicken Soup for the Christian Family Soul by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, Patty Aubery and Nancy Mitchell Autio

I saved the life of a wild bird!! Yaaayy!!!

2006-04-25T14:55:00.002-04:00

It's been a very long time since I've written. Stuff has happened; I guess I just haven't felt like writing. I've also been insanely busy.

I think Mom has been playing with my cell phone again. There have been several times when the screen has suddenly lit up in the middle of the night for no apparent reason. It's happened most often when I was upset and crying about something. It's very comforting to me and not spooky.

When she died, I took over her cell phone plan because it was cheaper than mine and because it was hers. For some reason, the carrier put in a new voicemail system for everybody just the other day, which erased everyone's voicemail greetings. I had kept my mom's greeting on there...it was one of the few voice recordings I have of hers. So now it's gone. That upset me pretty bad. I've also been going through a lot of crap trying to buy a new house and am not sure if it's going to work out or not, and that's been upsetting me too. The closing is scheduled for the Friday before Mother's Day. I set it that way on purpose to give me something happy to look forward to and occupy my mind so I won't be sad the whole weekend. I sure hope it works out, but I'm worried about it.

Anyway, yesterday, something very profound, in my opinion, happened...it was just enough to restore my faith in goodness and the fact that things do happen for a reason even when we don't think there could ever be a reason good enough for it, such as losing my mom...I was driving home from work and saw a tiny bird sitting in the middle of the road. I stopped and got out and went up to him, and he didn't/couldn't fly away. I picked him up and cradled him and got back in the car and headed to the emergency animal clinic. He didn't have anything physically wrong with him that I could tell...but it was like he was in shock. He would look like he was nodding off and then would perk up for a second and then nod off again. He wasn't afraid of me at all and let me hold him and nuzzle him, and he clung to me for dear life with his little feet. The clinic took him and identified him as a wild bird and they would have to release him if he got better, but they couldn't promise anything because birds don't usually survive treatments. I called several hours later to see if he had made it...and he did! They didn't know what had happened to him, but he got better so fast that they went ahead and released him. I got really attached to that little guy in those 15 minutes I held him. :) I can't tell you how excited I felt to know that I had saved his life. There's no doubt in my mind that he would have gotten run over, because for whatever reason, he couldn't move. There are a few deaths of animals in my life that I have always blamed myself for whether or not they were really my fault. I hit a cat while driving a few years ago. I logically know that there was not a thing I could have done differently to prevent it, with the way traffic and the road were at the time. But it took me forever to feel like I could drive again or go down that road again because I didn't trust myself and felt so guilty. I took the kitty to that same emergency clinic knowing that it was already too late but desperately hoping for a chance. Once I missed half a day at work because I hit a squirrel. What kind of irony is it in the universe that someone like me, a fierce - maybe fanatical - animal lover would have to be the one to do something like that?? And I'm haunted by guilt over the deaths of my hamster and bunny a few years ago as well. Even though people have reassured me a thousand times there was nothing I could have done differently, there's still that part of me that feels responsible. I don't know why we can save some lives and not others. But that feeling of helping that little bird was unbeatable, and it was wonderful to see someone live for a change. It gave me a lot of hope. Life is so full of ups and downs, and many times it seems like there are way more downs than ups. At least for that day, I had a very special up...and so did my little birdie! He must have been very glad I saw him and cared enough to stop.
I guess we have to look for those kinds of special moments to help us keep going and motivate us to keep plodding along. And we have to believe that someday we won't just be plodding along but will feel full and completely alive again. Sometimes you get this feeling that someone somewhere in the cosmos is toying with you...making you think that things are finally starting to be okay again and then they throw something horrible in your path again. I honestly do not believe that is how God works. Sometimes it just feels like you're being toyed with. But I really believe that all those things are intended to make us grow stronger, as cliche as that sounds, because we would just stagnate and rot and never grow without hurdles and pain and heartache. I wish it were different, but due to our human nature, it's not. It doesn't mean I will ever actually be thankful that my mom passed away...good grief. But many times I think that everything and everyone are intertwined somehow in an intricate web and that with each painful thing that we come across, we can choose to let it further our growth or hinder it. If God or someone were toying with us, would it mean that they "win" if we allow the thing to grow us? Is it really beneficial in any way to cross our arms over our chest, stew about it, and say, "I'll show you, trying to teach me to grow! It's not going to work!" No...we're still the ones who lose if we choose that route. You can also look at the Sylvia Brown approach in which you and God charted out your entire life and everthing that would happen before you were born so that you would have the experiences you'd need to learn different things. As my friend said not long ago, "If I chose to go through all these things...WHAT was I THINKING?!" I feel like that sometimes too. Who knows. But I still think it all boils down to the choice.

Am I going to allow this pain to further my growth or hinder it?

P.S. The picture is not of the actual bird I found. I so wish I could have taken a picture of him. The clinic said he was a wild finch. This is the closest one I could find, which is an American Goldfinch. I think my birdie had more gray, and his legs were definitely more gray than orange like this guy, but the beak and overall shape and color are about right.

P.P.S. Here is my favorite poem in the whole world that I discovered in high school. I have kept it on my fridge ever since. It's exactly how I feel.

Solace - by Dorothy Parker

There was a rose that faded young;
I saw its shattered beauty hung
Upon a broken stem.
I heard them say, "What need to care
With roses budding everywhere?"
I did not answer them.
There was a bird brought down to die;
They said, "A hundred fill the sky-
What reason to be sad?"
There was a girl whose lover fled;
I did not wait the while they said,
"There's many another lad."

Another song that made me break down...

2006-03-12T15:03:00.003-05:00

I'll admit that I'm a pretty easy crier...most of the time, all it takes is a good commercial. But I was doing karaoke at home by myself (yes, I do that for fun) and was having a good time even though my animals look at me like I've lost it, and then I decided to do one of the songs on the CD that I haven't heard in a long time. It's a song about an ended love relationship, but I couldn't even make it all the way through it without it making me think of my mom and I just broke down. My friend Michelle and I have talked many times about how we'd rather have had our moms for the short time we had than any other moms for 100 years. I guess this song represents that for me now.

"I Would've Loved You Anyway" - Trisha Yearwood

If I'd've known the way that this would end
If I'd've read the last page first
If I'd've had the strength to walk away
If I'd've known how this would hurt...

I would've loved you anyway
I'd do it all the same
Not a second I would change
Not a touch that I would trade
Had I known my heart would break
I'd've loved you anyway

It's bittersweet to look back now
At mem'ries withered on the vine
But just to hold you close to me
For a moment in time...

And even if I'd seen it coming
You'd still've seen me running
Straight into your arms

Some more communications?

2006-03-05T11:17:00.002-05:00

My dad called me the other night from his car while he was driving somewhere...he said, "I think Mom's messing with me again!" He'd already told me that one of the ceiling fans in his house had been going crazy, changing speeds all the time...guess which one? The one in her bedroom. And this time he said that as he was driving right before he called me, his seat kept inching away from the steering wheel a little at a time! They're not electric either; they're the kind you manually adjust with a lever and by pushing yourself back, so he knew he wasn't doing it. So he said out loud, "Mac (that was his nickname for her)? Are you doing that?" And then the seat started slowly inching its way back toward the steering wheel! Mom always was a jokester.

I also had a couple things happen recently. I keep all my shoes on a rack in a closet, and for three days in a row, every time I went to the closet to get shoes for the day, the same two or three pairs would be on the floor even though I knew they'd been placed securely on the rack the day before. Gravity? Maybe. Then the other night I fell asleep on the couch and woke up at 3:30. I went up to bed but couldn't go back to sleep, so I read for a while. I still wasn't tired, but I finally decided to turn off the light and try to go to sleep. I had just done that and was lying on my side facing the night table where my cell phone was. I happened to have my eyes open and saw the screen on my phone suddenly light up out of nowhere. I thought...well, that's kinda weird... I picked it up and looked at it. It hadn't made any noises or beeps and didn't say anything about having voicemails or whatnot...it was just its regular screen but lit up for no apparent reason. I put it back down and a minute later it went dark again. At first it creeped me out a little, just because of the time of day it was, but then I thought, "No way is this going to scare me if it was from Mom." I think I thanked her and fell asleep.

The Psychic

2006-02-25T13:47:00.002-05:00

I'm sitting in Panera right now...I'm wearing the shirt I mentioned before that has a no-smoking logo on it and says, "There are cooler ways to die." I almost always get comments on this shirt from people who say, "That's a great shirt, "or "I quit smoking a while back just for that reason." It's very satisfying...I obviously wear the shirt to make a statement, albeit a harsh one, but it gets the point across. So when I was paying, the cashier said she liked my shirt and I said thanks. But I couldn't stop there, no way. For some reason I always feel the need to tell everyone, even strangers in public, that my mom is dead and from lung cancer. I know part of it is that I want to make people realize it can hit closer to home than they'd think, and I want it to at least implant the idea in their head that if they smoke, they need to stop, because it really could happen to them even though no one thinks it will. I know I'm not trying to make people feel sorry for me. It's one thing to make people aware, but this girl had already said she agreed with my shirt, and she's only like 16, and I had to go and say, "Yeah, my mom died of lung cancer last year, so that's why I wear it." The poor girl got this horrified look on her face and didn't know what to say. Why did I have to be so blunt? I can't believe it's been more than a year and I'm still constantly feeling the need to tell everyone and their mom (oh, the irony) that I no longer have my mom.

Okay...on a better note, because I somehow learned to forgive myself when I do things like this and try not to beat myself up for taking one step forward, two steps back...now I will detail my session with the psychic that I had a few months ago now. I really meant to write about all this sooner so I wouldn't forget anything. They actually give you the option to have your session tape recorded, but I forgot until after it was over, and he said, "Don't worry, you won't forget anything; you have a great memory." Aptly said from a psychic. :) But he was right. He was right about everything, in fact. Let me start out by saying again that even though I never truly believed people had those abilities before now, I was always fascinated with the prospect. My favorite movies are almost always those psychological thriller-type movies based on communicating with ghosts or involving psychics or mediums. Now, I did always believe in ghosts, or maybe not ghosts, but the ability of those who have passed on to communicate with the loved ones left behind. If you've read anything in my journal so far, you already know that. But psychic stuff...well, it was a really cool idea but not anything I was sold on. (Although I do remember one time when I was maybe about twelve and I had a dream that my mom was telepathic and could read all my thoughts...the dream was so real that when I woke up, I didn't want to be around her for a couple hours because I was afraid of someone being able to see into my head!! lol I finally told her about the dream and asked her over and over, "Are you SURE you can't read my mind?" And she would keep looking at me funny and say, "Yes, I PROMISE I can't read your mind." How funny.)

Anyway...so that was til I actually had a session with one. My two closest friends gave it to me as a birthday gift last year. If they are reading this, I really don't want this to hurt their feelings...but at first, I was kinda ticked that they'd gotten me that for my birthday. It had been a really crappy birthday to begin with, and I was expecting that they would at least get me a present that would cheer me up. When they told me what it was, my first thought was, "Don't they know me better than that? Why in the world would they think I would even want that?" Both of them are really into that kind of thing, and I wasn't, despite my curiosity. But I finally went, and they went with me, and call me crazy, but that guy was right on, and not about little things that any clever person could deduce, as you will see. So I went into it skeptically but still kind of hoping that he'd be right because then that would mean people really could do that sort of thing. Like I said, my best friend and my other closest friend and her daughter were with me - she's the one I talked about earlier when I wrote about kids. When the guy came to get me to take me into the session room, she wanted to come with me, and I put my hand on her head and told her I'd be back in just a little bit. On our way up the stairs in the building, the guy said, "So how old is your daughter?" I kinda laughed and said, "She's not my daughter, she's my friend's." I was thinking to myself, "Geez, this guy is wrong right from the start and couldn't even tell that she wasn't my daughter!!" But then he said, "Wow, I'm very surprised she's not yours...there is such a strong connection between the two of you. I guess you're a lot like an aunt to her then...she means more to you than just being a friend's daughter." So what, I thought, if he's right on - anyone could have guessed that from the fact that she wanted to come with me and the way I patted her head. So we get in the room and sit down and he pulls out the Tarot cards. Now, I am a Christian, as you know, and I don't for a minute believe that cards have any power in and of themselves to tell the future, and I probably sound like a hypocrite to the hardcore Christians who think all this stuff is from the devil. I absolutely, 100% believe in God, Jesus, his death on the cross, the Bible, and all of it. But I do still have enough imagination to believe that just because we can't see or touch things does not mean they aren't real. After all, we can't physically see or touch God, but we know he is real. So why should we then discard other things' legitimacy just because they don't seem logical? So...he gets all the cards laid out, and the first thing he says is, "You are about to start a new job." (Throughout the whole thing, he didn't ask many questions - he mostly made statements of what he knew to be true, which I was glad because if he'd asked a lot of questions, I'd have thought he was just leading me to figure things out the regular way.) I was amazed. I was about to start a brand new job in two days. Then he said, "And not only is it a new job, but it's something you've never done professionally before...it's a whole new field for you." I had been a secretary for a [way too] long time, and now I was about to start my dream job in graphic design. He told me a little about my job and how I was doing the right thing. He started telling me about my boyfriend and knew that he was getting ready to travel somewhere. He even mentioned the fact that I like to sleep for hours at a time - as in like, 13 or 14 - and my boyfriend only sleeps about five or six hours a night. He told me I was with the right person and some more details about our relationship. He said one day we would get married, but it wouldn't be as soon as I'd like it to be, which makes sense because I'm always in a hurry for that kind of thing in spite of what I went through before. I asked him about children someday, and he looked up at me and said, "You only want one child." Right on again! All my life, all I ever wanted was to have one little girl, and that's it. Maybe it's because I'm an only child and I always hoped for the same kind of relationship with a daughter as my mom and I have. But I know I hadn't told him thus far that I'm an only child, and I hadn't mentioned anything about my mom either. He told me that I was going to have only one child and that it would not happen as soon as I'd like either...which again makes sense cause I'd probably pop out a kid right now if I could. :) He said I would not have a difficult pregnancy, per say, but that I was going to absolutely baloon up beyond belief if I wasn't careful - lol - and that the last month or two might be spent in bedrest. You know, I didn't really even think to ask him if it would be a boy or a girl, because I've always just known, and he didn't volunteer it since I didn't ask. So after he had pretty much wiped out any thoughts in my head that he was a fraud by this point, I told him I wanted to know about people in my life who had passed on. He said all he needed was a name and an age. I kept my face perfectly clear of any emotion and casually said, "Marilyn...she was 60." He kind of looked off behind me and after a minute, he looked at me sadly and said, "She's your mum." (He's Irish.) I teared up then and nodded. Now, my mom had me when she was 35, and 25 years ago, that was less common than it is now. Most people my age have parents in their fifties, not sixties. It still could have been a lucky guess, but the stuff he said afterward was not. Without asking me a thing, he began to describe the way she looked and said she was very beautiful and very alluring to men without even meaning to be...but he said for the last several years she stopped caring about her appearance or trying to do herself up and that worry and stress had really aged her. Completely true. Then he started describing the cancer (again, without me telling him what she died of) and how it completely emaciated her already thin face and body and wasted her away. He described the way she looked lying in bed, how by the time she died she looked like she was 90 instead of 60. Then he said, "Did she have a ring with blue stones? She keeps showing that to me." She did. She had wanted a ring for her index finger for years and was finally given one as a gift that had sapphires in it...she was so proud of it. And she had also bought me a sapphire ring when I was a senior in high school that I had wanted for a long time. He said, "She's not going anywhere right now. She has decided to stay very near to you and your family for a while now because she knows how much you need that. It's not because she feels trapped into doing it; she just wants to." He confirmed some of the signs that I thought she'd sent me. He paused again and looked behind me...I suppose she was right there, which didn't surprise me at all. Then he looked at me in that pointed way again and simply stated, "You bathed her." And I had. Before she went into the hospital and hospice, she was almost bedridden because she was so weak from the treatments, and the cancer itself, that she could hardly walk. She mentioned that she hadn't had a bath in a while and she thought one would feel good, but she was too weak, she said. I could tell from the way she said it and because I know her so well that she was not trying to give me a not-so-subtle hint or guilt me into giving her a bath. I cheerfully said, "You know what? We're going to get you a bath." She protested over and over and said, "No, Jen, that's too much for me to ask of you. I'm fine. I don't really need one." (That was so typically my mom.) But I wouldn't hear of it, and I told her, "Don't you worry about a thing. I can get you in the bathtub and I'll do everything. I think it would make you feel so much better, and I really want to do that for you." God, it's hard for me not to cry as I write this. She did have a shower chair that my aunt had given her, and we got her in the bathroom and undressed and onto the chair. Without thinking for a minute that it could be awkward or embarrassing for either one of us, because it wasn't, I gave my mother a bath. It was the most perfectly natural thing for me to do. I don't mean to make myself out to be a hero, the selfless daughter. It's just that my mom had spent my life taking care of me, nurturing me, and it was the least I could do for her in her time of need and I love her so deeply that there's no way I could NOT have done that for her. Again, not to sound like a hero, but I don't think most children have ever given their own parent a bath...my point is, there's no way that could have been a lucky guess on the psychic's part. I asked him about my parents' relationship with each other, and again, he was totally accurate. He said, "They weren't happy for a long time...there was a lot of clashing and them butting heads on everything...but in spite of all of it, they both stayed. And they stayed because deep down, they really wanted to." He was right. They both threatened to leave each other more than once and had gotten to a point where if it had been me, I woulda hightailed it outa there rather than endure that. But I know he was right...if either of them had TRULY wanted to leave, they would have, because deep down they still had a deep care for the other one and felt they still needed each other somehow. They both said that to me more than once. He said my mom kept showing him this very large, very fluffy gray cat and wanted to know if that was my cat from childhood. I laughed and said, "No, that's my cat now!! He was her favorite." And I must say, while I love all my pets deeeply, he has something extra, something really special in his eyes that more than one person has noticed enough to comment on...my dad says he looks like he holds all the answers to the universe in his head. So it didn't surprise me that he was the one my mom kept showing. That's all I can remember right now about her specifically in the session. I also asked him about my three pets that have died....two of which I still carry guilt over because I feel like I should have and could have done something to prevent their early deaths. He told me he sensed nothing but deep love and admiration from them. I also asked him about past lives. Now you hardcore Christians (and I don't mean that as a derogatory term by any means, please know that), or even those of you who don't believe in any faith or who are just very skeptical, logical people, are REALLY thinking, "Okay, she's gone off the deep end now!" But why would he be so incredibly accurate about the rest of it and then just make that up? Reincarnation is not something I ever believed in before, nor is it an idea I would even begin to entertain before. But the more I read and the more strange experiences I have, the more it makes sense. It in no way negates my belief in the Bible being God-breathed truth. Let's face it...on the whole, we humans are stupid. We have to learn everything the hard way. Sometimes more than once cause we just didn't get it the first time. How could we possibly learn everything we need to learn in one single lifetime? It makes perfect sense to me that it would take more than one lifetime to go through enough experiences to really learn and grow. And there are just some people that you look at and you just KNOW, you have this sense, that you were together before. Like soulmates. And I do not believe for a minute that soulmates are just love relationships. I know that my mom is my soulmate. So is my best friend. And so is my cat Tommy that I just talked about. You just know when you look in someone's eyes when there is a truly special, unique connection that just doesn't happen everyday, even with other people you really care about and like. I think that could even explain why we meet a guy, supposedly for the first time, and feel this connection or recognition...only to find out later he's a complete jerk and not worthy of our time. Maybe it's because we were actually with him in a past life and forgot how bad he was, so in this life we recognize him and feel like we're supposed to be with him because of that sense. Anyhow, he told me about the two past lives that he thinks are influencing my life now the most. In one, I was married to my ex-husband and we were settlers in Virginia. He was a carpenter, and I was a little housewife who was expected to do everything he told me and keep everything perfect. I was a much stronger woman for the time period than most and felt very confined by the period clothing and female responsibilities and expectations. We tried to have a child because everyone was expected to, but we never had any luck in conceiving, and he blamed it on me and severely resented me for it, which came out in the way he treated me. I died a miserable woman at age 45 of scarlet fever. Other than the child part, it's a very accurate description of my first marriage. Oh, my name was Megan. In the other life he told me about, I was married to the guy who is myboyfriend now, and we were very happy. He was a baker, and I, in turn, was a very large woman. :) But we really loved each other and were happy, and even though we couldn't have children either, we didn't blame each other for the problem. I turned my desire for a child into opening a large orphanage in Naples, Italy where we lived and took in all kinds of kids who were orphans or just needed someplace to go and receive love and attention. There were always children in and out of my home. That sounds so like me. He said that's part of why my desire to be a mom in this life is so incredibly strong, since I couldn't have one in the last two lives. My name in that one was Lucia. When my session was over, the last thing he said on the way out the door was that my mom kept showing him this hand motion as if she were bowling and asked me what it meant. I said, "I have no idea...she wasn't into bowling," and he said, "But she just keeps showing this movement to me and it must mean something." The more I think about it, the more I think maybe she was trying to tell me through that motion, "Keep going. Keep living. Get a move on with your life and be happy and realize your dreams."

I think that covers just about everything in the session. Okay, I think it's about time I left Panera before I get kicked out. :)

Addendum to a Cure for Depression

2006-02-24T21:04:00.003-05:00

So I made it through the one-year. I am quite glad to have that over with and behind me. Yesterday was my mom and dad's 26-year anniversary. We keep thinking if we can just get through February, we should be alright.

I went to Curves to work out today. There are a couple of mom and daughter sets that come in to work out together. One of them involves a teenager; the other, a daughter who looks about my age. Today the mom and daughter who's my age came in and ended up working out on the stations right next to me and were chatting away easily about all kinds of things; you could tell they're really close. Then it sounded like they started talking about the daughter's upcoming wedding, and at that point, I just had to leave. Thank goodness I was at least almost done with my workout. I was teeming with jealousy and hurt. For whatever reason, I was SO hungry and all I could think about was Boston Market. So I went to eat by myself, which I fortunately mastered the art (or the courage) of a couple years ago. As I was in line to order, there was a couple behind me who were in a fight...the girl was on the verge of tears and the guy was being mean to her and kept saying, "Well, you can't just expect me to be a mindreader," which is true, but he was so mean to her about it. It couldn't help but make me even more thankful that I'm no longer in a marriage where I'm treated that way and spoken to like that and so grateful to have someone who is so kind and understanding. And then when I sat down to eat, there was this beautiful little girl a couple tables away from me. She looked about three or four, with light brown hair and huge blue eyes. We caught each other's eye at the same time at one point, and I smiled at her because I'm a sucker for little kids no matter where I am, and she beamed back at me the biggest smile. Then it became a game. She'd kind of hide from me a little behind her dad or grandparents who were with her and then peek around to see if I was still looking. We both kept smiling at each other and I started making faces at her, and then we both got so tickled at each other that we couldn't stop giggling. It cheered me right up. I told you! Kids are a cure for depression! :)

One thing I'm not so cheery about in the back of my head is the thought that my dad may remarry someday and the fact that the lady will probably have kids. I don't like it at all. For the sake of preserving my good mood tonight, I think I will save writing about it for later. Oh, wait, I can just paste in part of an email I already sent about it to a friend.

The main thing I'm struggling with right now is that my dad has apparently found someone he's interested in and she's interested in him...nothing has been acted upon and they're not dating, but the fact that they've discussed it worries me. I don't want him to be alone if he doesn't want to be. Eventually. And he understands how much the thought of him finding someone else infuriates me, because his own mom died when he was 17 and he had major problems when his dad remarried. Of COURSE him finding someone new is going to be hell for me to deal with...but there's also the fact that this woman has three kids of her own, and most likely anybody he ends up with will have kids of her own too. I'm an only child, and even though I was never spoiled by any means, I liked being the only child and I'm not ready to share that even though I'm 25 and her kids are all in their 20s too. I do NOT want to start having to celebrate holidays with new people, and I just flat out don't want to share my dad. We were never that close til after she died, and I've been waiting my whole life to be close to him...and suddenly I'm going to have to share him. There are so many emotions bundled up inside me about it. On one hand, she has been gone a year...but on the other hand, she has ONLY been gone a year. That's much too soon for me to even get used to the idea that he could remarry. They weren't even that happy together, and he deserves to find that with someone...but it's going to be an absolute nightmare for me to adjust to, especially when I see him do things for someone new that he wouldn't do for my mom. I think if he had died and my mom were ready to remarry, I'd probably be fine with it. But my mom was simply everything to me.

It's Valentine's Day...that means one year.

2006-02-14T15:48:00.003-05:00

Crap. How in the world did I make it to the one year anniversary of my mom's death...it's this strange mix of being a little proud of myself for surviving, and amazement that the time seems to have passed so fast in spite of the months of pain and depression, and also just this huge sense of unfairness of it all. I should NOT NOT NOT be sitting here today saying, "I have survived one year without my mom," simply because she should not have died at 60 years old. The sheer unfairness of it all is upsetting me so much. I know I have worked through a lot of the anger I had for so long, but there is definitely some left to deal with. I'm extremely depressed, but at the same time, I am still very irritable - wanting to yell and scream and break things irritable. I know it's because I'm still angry that any of this had to happen. I took the day off work today cause I knew I'd be good for nothing there and wouldn't be able to concentrate. I said before that I was sick to my stomach all last week and I suspected it was because I was dreading today so much...I was fine all weekend while I was gone to the mountains, but then last night I started feeling sick again. I was a MESS yesterday, crying and being irritable. This morning I woke up with the strongest taste of blood in my mouth...there wasn't any actual blood in my mouth, just that horrible metallic taste. So I went to brush my teeth to get rid of the taste and was wondering why in the world it was even there, and I coughed up some blood. I don't know if maybe I have worked myself into an ulcer or what because I'm so upset about today. I know I have been dreading this day the whole past year, especially after Christmas and her birthday had passed and I knew this was the biggest, hardest, most painful day of all and it was coming soon. Even when I've been making a lot of progress and learning to feel joy again, today has still been in the back of my mind almost constantly. I haven't been able to eat anything yet today because I'm so nauseous. If I feel okay later, my aunt and I are going to go out to eat or something and reminisce. I was talking to my dad on the phone earlier today, and we both feel like we're supposed to DO something...some kind of memorial thing or I don't know what. I know my mom won't be hurt if we don't do anything like that, but for some reason it just feels like we should. She was cremated and doesn't have a grave, so that's not an option, but I have to be honest in saying I don't think I could handle it that way anyhow. A funeral and wake and gravesite really help some people, but I don't think I could have made it through all that.
For some reason, I feel like I want to rehash in my journal the last few days of her life. On one hand, it was the most horrible experience I've ever had to live through, and there are times when her last breath will replay in my mind over and over like a movie and I swear it makes me feel like I'm going to go crazy. But on another hand - and this will sound weird to anyone who hasn't been through it - there is also a strange beauty and wonder to the whole thing, to having had the opportunity to nurture and take care of my mom after she'd spent her life taking care of me. I do eventually want to record every single second of all of it, even the most nightmarish parts, because I don't want to ever forget anything about my mom and her life, even the end of it. But right now, I just feel so tired and don't think I have the energy. All I feel like I can write right now about it is that I was holding her hand and looking into her beautiful face when she took her last breath...I don't know how I was able to be there when it happened without it completely snapping something in my brain forever...but I will never forget it, nor do I want to even though that may sound weird or morbid. It's like I said - it's all a very strange mix of beauty and love and pain and nightmares.

Today I'm wearing the ring that I bought my mom for her birthday last year. I can't wear it all the time because sometimes it feels too painful. It's a gold ring with a heart-shaped [faux] diamond and it has I <3 MOM cut out in the band. She gushed and gushed about it when I gave it to her last year. Now and then it makes me feel a little better to wear it.
For now, I think I will just re-post the words I said at her memorial service. My mother had a whole lot of wisdom to impart, and I hope that her words will still have an impact on others who read them even though she's gone now.

You can never say, "I love you" too much.

That's what my mom always told me. We probably always said it a million times a day to each other, when hanging up the phone, when saying goodbye, at the end of every email we sent back and forth, and many times for no reason other than just to say it. I never got tired of hearing her say she loved me, and I'm glad that we said it so much so as never to leave any doubt.

My mom passed away from cancer on Monday, February 14, 2005 - Valentine's Day. In one way, it was like a cruel joke that she passed on a holiday that will be repeated forever. But in another way, it somehow makes sense that the end of her journey of life would be marked by the day of love. She loved me more purely and truly than anything I have ever known besides the love of God. She was beautiful inside and out. She taught me humor, unconditional love, tact, affection, patience, forgiveness, faith, hope, and fun. She had never before held a baby in her life until I was born when she was 35. She was scared to death of being responsible for me and didn't know what to do. The nurse laughed at her when she put my diaper on backwards in the hospital. But after some time went by and her fear of me was quickly replaced with strong, undying love, somehow she always managed to do and say just the right things. She decided that if you love a child enough and show her enough affection, she'll forgive you just about anything you accidentally do wrong.

My mom was always full of humor. Her sense of humor was dry and quick. She never missed a beat. She still cut up with everyone, right up until the very end. Laughter was always important to her, something to help her get through difficult times and something to put people at ease and lighten the mood. She loved to be redundant with her puns and jokes, which made them even funnier.

One of her favorite sayings was "the joy is in the journey, not the destination." She would repeat it so often to me that eventually it became a joke because it had been run into the ground, but I honestly always tried to keep that saying in mind whenever I was impatient for something. But I think in this case, the joy was in the journey and the destination...although she was only sixty and I feel she was robbed of so much time we could have shared, I do know that the short life she had was full of joy, and so was the destination she found when she went home to heaven.

Mom, I will always miss you. I honestly don't know how I'm going to make it without you. You have always been my best, closest friend, the one I could tell anything to and never fear judgment or ridicule, the one who always listened and gave me advice, the one who always put everyone else's needs before her own. You are the most unselfish, giving person I have ever known. I know that somehow you will shine through me and in my own little girl someday. I know that you are happier now than you have ever been, but it is so hard to let go and comprehend that I can't pick up the phone and call you or wrap my arms around you in a hug. Please always be with me no matter what and always know that your baby girl loves you forever, to the moon and back.

I know I've posted the words to Natalie Grant's song, "Held," before, but this song, maybe more than any other, so accurately describes what I went through and my feelings about it...so I'm going to re-post the chorus again. I can stand here today and tell you that without a doubt, these words ring true.

This is what it means to be held,

How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life

And you survive…

This is what it is to be loved and to know

That the promise was that when everything fell

We’d be held.

Thank you, God, for holding me and never letting go of me, even when all this time I've only felt anger and hatred toward you for letting this happen. Somehow I do know now that you love me, and I'm going to cling to that as fiercely as I can. Thank you for never abandoning me, even when I've thought you had...you didn't and never will. You are precious to me.

I'm sad AGAIN today.

2006-02-13T13:36:00.002-05:00

I feel almost overwhelmed by the sheer dread of tomorrow...the year anniversary of my mom's death. Can you believe it had to happen on a holiday? It's just wrong for people to die on holidays because then that holiday is pretty much shot for the rest of your life. Every tiny little thing is irritating the snot out of me today, and I know it's just because I'm upset over this. Every little noise, itch, the need to blow my nose, my dog chewing on his feet again (what a mean mom am I - it makes me feel horrible, but that sound drives me crazy) - all of it makes me want to scream out loud. But those little things don't even have anything to do with why I'm really upset. And every little thing also threatens to make me cry. I did cry once today already and just don't feel like doing it again. Sometimes it makes me feel so much better to cry, to release everything that's been pent up through my tears and feel that sense of relief afterward. But then sometimes, darnit, I just don't feel like crying anymore. I'm also suffering from post-vacation depression (I'm sure that must be a real, labeled medical condition out there somewhere, because it happens to me every time I come home from even a small vacation). My boyfriend and I had our Valentine's Day celebration this past weekend instead of tomorrow, and I wasn't ready for it to be over. I wasn't ready to come home again and have chores and work and worry or anything other than relaxation. It always takes me a while to readjust to real life again. But after a while, I'm fine again and all settled back into my routines. It's just getting readjusted that's so hard.

I still don't feel trapped in the pain anymore. I still have the driving need and desire to live fully and happily. But like I said before, there are just going to be days like this. (Mama said there would. You know that made you think of that song too, especially since this journal is about moms!) For the rest of my life, there are going to be hard days I have to get through because things are changed forever. And there will also be days when I'll be going along feeling just fine when BAM! there's a trigger that makes me cry. I don't think that's me being pessimistic...just realistic. I wouldn't want to think I'm cured and everything is going to be hunky-dorey from here on out just cause I'm not trapped anymore. I guess the difference now is that I will still allow myself to feel what I need to feel on those days, but there's still a sweet knowledge inside that I will feel better again.

Want to know what commercial makes me cry worse than any other? The Publix commercial where the little boy and his mom are baking a heart-shaped Valentine cake, supposedly for his little crush at school. The mom drops him off at school the next day, and after he gets out of the car, she realizes he's left the cake for his sweetheart in the car. She calls out to him to come back and get it, and he just gives her this little smile, turns around, and heads into school...and she realizes he wanted the cake to be for her all along. It brings tears into my eyes just thinking about it!

I'm sad today.

2006-02-08T17:35:00.002-05:00

In spite of all my happy and so well-rounded sounding entries lately (tongue in cheek), I am really, really sad today. I'm glad I was at least smart enough to realize that even though I'm better emotionally than I was even a month ago, I'm still going to have days like this sometimes. No way around it.

I feel kind of bad...a girl I work with was on her cell phone with her mom today and was aggravated that her mom called her at work cause she was busy. Some words just tumbled out of my mouth..."Be glad she can call you while you're at work." I don't think she knew what I meant, and she said, "Yeah, but -" and I said, "No, be glad. My mom can't call me at ALL anymore." I don't think I said it mean or snappy. And anytime I can make someone feel thankful that they still have their mom, that's a good thing. But I don't know that my words came out in the right context. She apologized profusely and was honest in saying she forgot. I told her I don't expect people to remember all the time, and I didn't mean to make her feel bad for being completely normal in being aggravated at her mom a little bit...my mom and I got irritated with each other sometimes, and that's perfectly normal. It didn't mean my friend I work with isn't grateful to still have her mom just because she vented a little. I feel like I really shouldn't have opened my big mouth at that particular time, and when I was apologizing to her, I started crying and explained that I'm extra emotional right now because Valentine's Day is coming up and that means it has been one year. I'm glad she was understanding.

I've been nauseous and absolutely sick to my stomach the last several days. I wonder if it's not just the dread of this Tuesday manifesting itself physically. I'm grateful that my very sweet and very understanding boyfriend offered for us to celebrate Valentine's this weekend instead of on its actual date...I do still want to celebrate the meaning of the holiday and just don't know if I'll be capable of it on the actual day.

Call me crazy or whatever you want to, but psychic stuff has always intrigued me. How much I believe it, I'm not real sure, but some of it makes some sense to me. I can't remember if I wrote about it in here or not, but my best friends actually bought me a reading for my birthday last year. If I haven't written about it, I really need to, because the guy said so many specific things about my mom that there is NO WAY he could have just deduced those things from my appearance, the way I carry myself, or whatever tactics the fraudulent ones use to appear to be psychic. Anyway, so I've been reading one of Sylvia Brown's books lately, and yes, I wonder if she's all she's cracked up to be (or if she's just a crackpot), but I swear, some of the stuff in her books, you're like, "Yeah, that's totally feasible." Anyway, I absolutely DO believe that our loved ones who have passed on are still able to see us and communicate with us, just in different ways than when they were alive. I've said it before that I believe God is big enough to allow someone to contact a loved one they left behind if that person really needs to hear from them. Why not? And if you've read anything in my journal, you know that I've had many, many experiences that could not have been anything but my mom letting me know she loves me and is not completely gone from my life. My dad has had many similar experiences, and so have countless other motherless daughters I've read about in the book Feathers Brush My Heart. So this Sylvia Brown book was saying how spirits will try to get our attention in any way they can, whether it's flickering the lights, making objects fall off the counter or a shelf for no apparent reason, turning photographs face down...they're not trying to be creepy or scare us; they're just trying to say, "Hey! I'm still here for you, and I love you, and I can only let you know that in an unconventional way sometimes." The other day I was standing in my bathroom getting ready. The tub is directly behind me when I'm looking in the mirror. The shower curtain was open. I'm just standing there in the mirror getting ready when I see a bottle of conditioner simply fall from its shelf in the tub. Nothing else fell. I was standing still, so I know it wasn't my vibrations that caused it. Now, this is definitely one of those occurrences where you can say, "Yeah, that might be explained scientifically." Who knows. All I know is that no one and nothing were moving in that bathroom. Except for that bottle when it fell. And you know what? It actually didn't scare me. I turned around and said, "Mom, was that you? If it was...thanks."

Another experience I've had recently...I was driving down the interstate the other night listening to the latest Joy Williams CD. Something about one of the songs really struck me all of a sudden, and I burst into tears. But this time, it wasn't because of pain or sadness or anything like that. It was RELIEF. Some of the words made me realize again so very poignantly that I am no longer trapped in the pain. I was just crying from the sheer relief of the ability to come back out and feel true joy again. I told my mom out loud as I cried, "Mom, I want you to know that I mean it now when I say I'm okay. I'm not trapped or smothered by the pain anymore. When you were dying and I asked you if you were afraid, and you said the only thing you were afraid of was if I would be okay...I was lying when I told you I would. I didn't even really believe it at the time, because I never thought I could be okay ever again, but you needed to hear that from me, so I said it. Well, now it's not a lie anymore. It's the truth. I don't want you to go away or stop contacting me just because I seem okay now; those contacts are part of what help me to even be okay at all. It doesn't mean I will forget you or that it doesn't hurt anymore, because it does. But I know it would make you happy to know that your little girl is not going to spend the rest of her life locked inside herself in the pain...because of everything you taught me and instilled in me, that's why I'm going to be okay." It was a really intense and profound moment riding down the road.

Something that makes me feel better sometimes...when I was very little, for some unknown reason I started leaving my mom little notes around the house that said MOM IS A TURD! I wasn't trying to be mean at all, just playing around with her, and she knew that. Somehow it carried into my adult years as well, so whenever I could, I'd make a Sticky on her Mac desktop that said my little endearment, sometimes I'd add it as a PS in cards or emails, and sometimes I'd leave a little handwritten note in an unexpected place...it always made her laugh, and me too. So recently when I was feeling happy one day, something made me think of this, and I said right out loud, "MOM, YOU'RE A TURD!!!" It made me laugh so hard. So now sometimes when I talk to her, I close with, "But you're still a turd." I'm sure thiswould never be funny to anyone but her and me, but saying it out loud to her makes me feel good.

I feel much better since I've gotten all this out. Whew.

A beautiful picture of God

2006-01-30T13:00:00.002-05:00

I've been rereading The Chronicles of Narnia...what a beautiful picture they are of God's undying love for us and, in my opinion, a profound understanding of human nature and overcoming it when needed. I'm on the fourth book right now, but out of everything, this particular passage really spoke to me and touched me the most besides when Aslan sacrifices himself to the witch in order to save Edmund. Read this and then read it again. I really and truly believe this is what God is like. It reminds me that things really do work out for a reason according to his plans to shape and mold us, even when it hurts us so bad and all we want to do is shake our fists at him and blame him. He is really doing it, or allowing it, all for our good because he loves us so very much. I have always believed this in my soul, but it is hard - virtually impossible - to believe it when you've lost someone and you're still trapped in your grief. But I have also always believed that just because we can't see or sense something...it doesn't mean it isn't real or doesn't exist.

Chronicles of Narnia - The Horse and His Boy

Aslan: Tell me your sorrows.

Shasta: I'm no better then an orphan; I've never known my mother or father, and I was bought up by a fisherman. Then I was finally able to escape. But for what...to be chased by lions and be mistaken for someone else in Tashban and get frightened half to death by some creatures at the tomb and suffer heat and thirst in the desert, and just when we're about to reach our goal, get chased by another lion who wounded

Aravis. And now, I'm lost and miserable. (Starts to cry.)

Aslan: I do not call you unfortunate.

Shasta: But what about all my trouble? It's bad enough being chased by a lion. Four, nonetheless. Most people won't even meet one in a lifetime.

Aslan: Oh, you met only one lion.

Shasta: What? I told you, at least two the first night.

Aslan: No, only one, but he was swift afoot.

Shasta: How do you know?

Aslan: I was the lion.

Shasta: What? (trembles)

Aslan: I was the lion who forced you to join with Aravis. I was the cat who comforted you among the tombs. I was the lion who drove the jackals away from you when you slept. I was the lion who gave the horses the new sense of fear for the last mile so that you would meet King Loon in time. And I was the lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat wakeful at midnight to receive you.

Shasta: Who are you?

Aslan: Myself.

Mom's Birthday & My Decision

2006-01-30T11:47:00.003-05:00

Well, I have made it through the first birthday of my mom's since her passing. January 23. My dad and I went to dinner at Red Lobster that night, which was always her favorite restaurant and where we usually went on her birthday. I had just visited my grandmother (her mom) the day before, and we spent a few hours going through boxes of old photos I hadn't seen in a long time. Many of them were of my mom when she was a little girl and then all the way through to her early thirties. My grandmother let me borrow them so I could make copies for myself, so I took them to dinner that night so my dad could see them too. I propped up one of our favorites at the table so we could see it the whole time we were eating. It looks like it was taken just before they got married because she was about that age but wasn't yet wearing her ring. She was posing like a model on a rocking chair bench from my grandparents' front porch. It reminded me so much of me, not the way she looked but her pose and her expression. Even in the ones when she was a little girl, she always had this expression on her face like a wise adult that says, "I know something you don't know!" Some were school pictures with her big, wide, mischievous eyes gleaming. Some were her posing with my aunt in stylish clothes and hairstyles from when they were young adults. They all made me feel even closer to her as I looked at them. After I got home and I was about to take my dogs outside, I suddenly started singing "Happy Birthday" out loud to my mom as I was putting on their leashes. We went outside and right after they got done using the bathroom, all the hair on their bodies suddenly stood on end and their full attention had focused on something. I looked over to where they were looking...and who did I see but Mom's bunny hop-hop-hopping up the hill and into the woods a few feet away. It made me feel wonderful like I can't even describe. I immediately called my dad to tell him, and we cried and laughed together.

It was initially hard to go to my grandmother's that day I went, as it has always been since my mom died. I never went there without my mom, and so to make that two-hour trip alone or with anyone else is always a little difficult. They also look quite a bit alike in the face too, which is a mix of comfort and heartache at the same time. My grandma had also just had a birthday and had turned 91, of which she is exceptionally proud of and loves to tell people she takes no medication but a baby aspirin and a multi-vitamin every day. She takes walks everyday and works word search puzzles, her favorite activity for the last few years. Every time you ask her how she's doing, she says, "Well, I'm doing just fine for an old lady!" I asked her once on the phone when she'd said she didn't remember things the way she used to if it ever frustrated her when she forgot things. She laughed and said, "No! I don't worry bout nothin!" I asked her while we (my boyfriend and I) were there, how she maintains such strength and contenment no matter what life throws her way. I know as a child she faced many deaths in her family, including siblings, and she has been through many deaths in both her and my grandfather's famillies, and in the last few years she has lost both her husband and her daughter. It's not that these things don't make her terribly sad or that they don't bother her at all. They do. But it's like she just makes up her mind that since there's nothing she can do about it, she's going to live the rest of her life as fully as she can because she knows she'll see them all again someday and God has everything in his hands. Someone said recently that it probably took her all these 91 years to get to the point where she could look at loss that way. I think they're probably right. But what an inspiration she is to me. I wonder many times why my mom didn't have the same outlook on life, especially since the two of them were really close. My mom was very happy as a child and was very happy when I was born and anytime I was with her. But it seems that most of the time in between, she was constantly searching for someone to validate her self-worth (or the lack thereof) and make her feel what she could not seem to muster up for herself...that she was okay just the way she was. I could see so clearly all the hundred reasons why she should have always felt wonderful about who she was, but she never could. I told her all the time how beautiful, funny, smart, loving, wonderful, thoughtful, etc. she was. She never could quite let it sink in enough to fully and truly believe it herself, though. She would say the same thing about me whenever I felt down about myself...she would say things like, "If I were just like you,I don't think I'd ever feel down about myself a day in my life!" She wasn't saying it out of jealousy and she wasn't trying to give me a big head. She was saying it because in her eyes I was the most marvelous person who'd ever walked the face of the earth and she could not understand why I'd ever doubt myself for anything. And I always felt the exact same way about her my whole life. It has made me decide that no matter how I ever think I look, no matter what fears I have about not living up to my own expectations, and no matter how others seem to be better when I compare myself to them, I am always going to value myself. I am going to like the way I look when I see myself in the mirror not because I'm so beautiful or thin or together - I'm not better than anyone else and I could certainly stand to lose a few pounds! - but simply because I am ME. I am the only me in the world, and I do not have to live up to anyone's expectations of perfection, including my own that I have always struggled with. God made me ME for a reason, and while I have many, many flaws and things about myself I need to fix, I can work on them knowing that I'm making progress so it doesn't matter if I'm perfect or as good as anyone else. I'm going to appreciate my body for what it is, extra baggage that it may have, and take care of it. I'm going to exercise not because I want to be the size I was in high school but because it makes me stronger, healthier, and feel better. But I'm not going to take it to the extreme and exercise myself to death or not eat at McDonald's once in a while because, heaven forbid, it has fat in it. I refuse to spend my life being obsessed with trying to look perfect and be perfect. There are so many more important things to "worry" about. My mom was 115 pounds for as long as I can remember, and that's freakin skinny for someone who's 5'6". And she still thought she wasn't pretty. When she got cancer and was on chemo, she couldn't really even afford to lose one pound because she was already so tiny. But she lost several and basically wasted away. I never want to be that thin because if it happens to me, I want to buy myself some more time on earth by at least being able to stand to lose weight like you always do on chemo.  If I were that thin naturally, that would be one thing, but I'm not going to do that to myself on purpose. My mom spent almost her entire life not thinking she was good enough, and it has caused me to learn that I don't want to do that, and I want to love being me simply because I am going to spend more time with myself than with anyone else as long as I live, and I therefore want to be my own best friend and enjoy who I'm spending all that time with!

I also went to two Motherless Daughters group meetings last week. There are two local groups in my area, and sometimes we meet separately and sometimes we meet together. Of the meetings was the first time I'd ever been able to attend that particular group. There were about 16 of us there, I think, and I can't tell you how wonderful it was so listen to their stories and share mine. We had a guest speaker who is also a "motherless daughter" and is now a life coach for a living. There is an immediate bond and sense of closeness in these two groups like you just don't typically find in a room full of otherwise complete strangers. But whether our moms were loving or hateful and no matter what our relationships with them were like, we all are struggling with the enormous loss and trying to figure out how to keep living. We can talk and talk and talk about what our moms were like, how much we're hurting, little triggers that suddenly made us burst into tears when we otherwise felt "fine" for a while, new ideas we have on ways to cope...no one is going to get tired of hearing about it, and no one is going to say things like, "I'm sorry for what you're going through, but I just can't handle hearing about so much depressing stuff all the time!!" We can pass around pictures of our moms, and everyone actually cares enough to really look at them, not out of mere courtesy but out of genuine respect and understanding. These groups and talking to other girls and women I've come across who are also dealing with this loss has been absolutely invaluable to me and my process of healing. Suddenly you don't feel so alone or silly or STUCK when you hear them talking about something and you're all nodding your heads furiously because you know EXACTLY what they're talking about and you're hearing some of them tell you how they are still going and they've become truly happy again even though there's always a part of them that misses her and aches to be with her. I don't know what I would have done all this time without these wonderful, strong girls.

So now I just have to make it through Valentine's Day. I just cannot believe it has been almost a year since she died. If you had told me a year ago, or even a few months ago, that I would be standing here today a year later and that I would be able to look you in the face and say, "I miss her terribly everyday, but I am going to live my life to the fullest and enjoy every second that I can because I CAN be genuinely happy inside again," I would not have believed you. But here I am, and I can say that. I haven't "arrived." Lord, no. There will forever be a space inside me reserved for my mom and the ache of that loss of her not physically being here with me. There will always be things that make me cry over her. There will still be days, I am sure, when all I want to do is sleep because in my dreams is when I feel her visiting me the most strongly. But now that a little time has passed, I am able to see things I wasn't able to see before when I was trapped in my pain. There is still deep pain and always will be. But I am no longer, at least for right now, trapped in it. I have tasted honest to goodness joy again, and it feels so wonderful that I don't want to go back to the pit I was in before. Many people feel like moving out of their grief even a bit means they will forget the person they lost or that they're disrespecting the memory by being happy again. I have been the opposite the whole time...I have felt guilty that I haven't felt like taking even one step out of my grief til now because I know how much it would hurt her heart because all she wants for her daughter is to be happy and fulfilled. But I'm not taking these steps out of guilt either.  I just desperately want to honor not only her memory but also the things she taught me and instilled in me throughout our life together. And I do so want her to be able to see her little girl happy. She planted seeds in me that will never go away. Above anything else, she taught me how to love. And even when she couldn't seem to muster up enough will-power to practice what she preached for herself about self-esteem and confidence and overcoming fears, she did teach me how to do it for myself somehow. I'm not "done" grieving for my mom. I never will be, because as long as we are physically separated, I will be grieving. We are all guaranteed to face tremendous loss during our lives, and there are many more that I'm sure I will have to face...it already kills me inside just thinking about it. At those times, I have no doubt that I will spend a long time right back in the pit again. But at least for right now and as long as I can, I'm going to try to do the best I can.

Mom, I love you forever. I hope somehow you fully know the magnitude of what you mean to me.  I feel like I can become anything I want to because of what you have taught me and the undying, unconditional way you have always loved me to your core. I hope that someday when I have a daughter of my own, she is just like you. I want to teach her how to love herself the way you taught me so that she doesn't have to go through so much self-doubt like you did...which you never had any reason to have. I don't idealize you now that you're gone...I have always idolized you and always will because I have never in my life seen someone love the way you do. I've said it before, and I still mean it just as surely...you are my soulmate. Someday I will see you again, but please don't stop sending me little messages and reminders that you're still with me as much as you can be. In the meantime, I promise to live the best life I can, to love myself, and to spend my life showing as much love and hope to others as I can.

A Cure for Depression

2006-01-18T16:20:00.004-05:00

A cure for depression, at least temporarily? Being around children. Doesn't matter if they're yours, a friend's, a neighbor's, members of a Boys' or Girl's Club, or if you have any children or not (although don't go kidnapping one! lol). Just being around kids will zap the sadness right out of you for a while. Children, especially little ones, see the world through different eyes than our jaded adult vision allows. They're still naive and innocent, faith comes easy to them, and they find so much joy in the simplest of things. Even when they've been through hard stuff too, something is still so pure about them even when they act up or they're angry or sad.

One of my best friends has a five year old daughter who has always been a delight to be around - she is spunky and hyper and creative and funny and entertaining and sweet as she can be. I've always loved all kids. But especially lately, I notice that being around her, as dramatic as it sounds, makes me feel so alive. This little girl is completely and totally herself without abandon. She's not worried about being embarrassed. She loves to make everyone laugh, and just being around her reminds me that there is still so much hope and good in the world even when it's hard to see it clearly. It's impossible to be sad when she's making her bangs stand straight up like Alfalfa, giggling that little girl laugh, and ordering me to bounce her on my knees as fast as I can. And when you hear a child say, "I love you," there is nothing else in the world like it. It really makes me miss my niece and nephews even more, who live out of state...if only I could have a regular dose of them, I think I might be great all the time! (This picture is of us with one of my dogs.)

It also makes me think of the little girl named Lauren, who isn't little anymore because she's 15 now, that I used to play with and tutor...in spite of her many family problems and feelings of abandonment, she never failed to have a smile on her face for me since the time she was a baby until the last time I saw her when she was 10 or 11. She has completely disappeared from my life, through no fault of hers or mine, and I miss her every day and wish I could find her again. She liked to play hide and seek and paint my nails. I recently found out through a friend of hers that she used to hold a framed picture of me close to her heart when she was in trouble or feeling sad...I have no doubt that she's a beautiful, smart young lady now even though she may always be ten years old in my head...I just hope someday I can find her again and see if she's okay. (This is a picture of the two of us around 1998.)

Anyhow, I think you get my point...if you don't know any kids personally, get involved someplace where hurting kids need a role model or just a friend. There are so many kids like that out there, and sometimes it seems there is so little hope in the world that we are selfish and nutso if we don't try to restore even a little bit of hope to anyone we can. Some kids will be able to relate to your own grief and pain because of what they may have already been through in their young lives, and you're guaranteed to discover that they make as much an impact on your life as you do theirs.

A kid's laughter and glee are terribly contagious, and you should allow yourself to catch it anytime you can!

Christmas & New Year

2006-01-03T14:48:00.002-05:00

Feeling kind of torn...I'm feeling the old familiar letdown that always accompanies the end of the Christmas season because the magic feels gone, and I'm also feeling a huge sense of relief that the holidays are over. I'm thankful that I've made it to a new year and that I survived a horrible last year, and I'm also royally pissed off that I had to live all last year without my mom and all the years to come. Holidays and a sense of tradition are extremely important to me, maybe too much so because it's really hard for me to get a handle mentally when things don't go as they have always gone on holidays past. The holidays this year were an absolute jumble of emotion and confusion, as I expected, but I suppose all in all everything turned out to be happier than I thought it would.

I did have a nice Christmas. I spent Christmas Day with much of my boyfriend's family, and they even invited my dad to join us, which he did. I truly adore his family, and it was really nice to be able to celebrate and be together and feel special. I was so busy from Christmas Eve through the day after Christmas that I really didn't have much time to think about who was missing, and I have to admit that it felt good. You can't very well keep out the Christmas spirit entirely when you've seen Clay Aiken's Merry Christmas With Love play, watched The Grinch Stole Christmas, read The Cajun Night Before Christmas, watched the Charlie Brown specials, seen a plastic reindeer candy dispenser that releases brown jellybeans from his butt, and been around family who laughs and loves so completely. After New Years had passed as well, I had more time for the thoughts I'd been pushing away to come to the surface and I had a few big cries and talked to her some. I have been having really bad nightmares off and on for the last couple weeks, some of them about my mom where she comes back to life and then just dies again and I have to relive it over and over. The other night I woke up screaming out loud at 4 am because of one just such nightmare about her. I relive her last moments in my mind all the time as it is, like a haunting tape recorder that's always set to rewind itself and start over. Now it's creeping into my sleep more often as well. Lately I have been much busier than I was before because my new job keeps me much busier and focused, and after work I think I've been unconsciously absorbing myself in things in order not to think so much and be sad. I know that's not real healthy, and it does always catch up and come out eventually. It just feels so good sometimes not to be so sad. I somehow am to the point where I do want to live my life and really enjoy it. I don't know how or if that's possible yet at the stage I'm in. I mean, there are a lot of things about my life that I do truly love and enjoy, and there are certainly tons of people I love dearly who make my life wonderful. Not everything is bad by any means, and most of the time I do feel genuinely happy inside. It's just that there's always that little thing at the back of my mind that never goes away that keeps me from opening up completely to feel joy without the tail of sorrow following it. The good news is that the anger does still seem to be gradually ebbing away.

It has now been almost a year since she's been gone. In only about a month and a half, I will have somehow survived an entire year without my mother. In some ways it feels like she's been gone forever, and in some ways I still can't wrap my mind around the fact that she's not just a phone call or visit away.

Lately I have felt sort of let down by people. Nobody's perfect, and I am sure I do my share of letting people down even though I don't mean to, but sometimes words and actions, or the lack thereof when you're in need of them, can really sting and make you lose a little trust in people for a minute. Hurt as that may, it reminded me that that's why we have to rely on God so much...all of us are only human, and while we may have the best of intentions and not ever mean to hurt anyone, it's going to happen now and then simply because we aren't perfect. Also, because we're human, we die. It's horrible and it's gut-wrenching and it's painful to lose anyone, and even though nothing about it is fair or right or okay, it happens and there's not a thing in the world we can do about it. People will come and go out of our lives, whether by choice or by death. I guess there's a balance between letting people in and loving them with our whole hearts but yet learning not to depend on them for our very lifesource or happiness or else we'll be completely shattered when they're no longer in our lives. While I know that I will never, ever be completely separated from anyone I love who is gone, especially my mom, the fact of the matter is that you just can't fully rely on people not to ever change or go away. God is the only one who remains completely constant and never changes. Please don't think I'm saying that we should be guarded or not trust anyone or never allow ourselves to love just because someday we might lose them. The old saying is right - it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. If I could have picked my mom before I was born (and some believe that's how it works) and I knew that she would die when I was only 24 and I would have to live the rest of my life with pain because of it, I would absolutely, 100% surely still choose her to be my mom. I'd rather have had 24 short years experiencing her love than a thousand years with any other mother. All I'm saying is that there is that fine balance between loving someone deeply and becoming completely and totally dependent on them for your self-worth, your happiness, your completeness, or your reason for living. As fallible people, we're also going to hurt each other's feelings from time to time, even though most of the time we don't mean to or want to. If we handle it right, we learn from it and it will end up causing our relationships to become stronger for it. We can't just not trust people, not let them in, and not take a chance just because we might get hurt. Whether you believe we have one life or many lifetimes, time is still too precious either way (and so are we) to close ourselves off from others just because we're afraid.

It also made me even more grateful for animals because, while people need people as well even though it's a risk to open your heart, animals don't make promises and then break them, they don't speak harshly, they forgive more quickly than most humans, and they are always there to comfort you when you need them. Whenever my pets hurt my feelings, it's much easier not to take it personally because it's almost always just a reaction out of instinct. There's nothing in the world like seeing my kitty in the window when he hears my car pull up or my dogs jump up and down like crazy simply because I'm home. I did see Mom's bunny again the other night as I was out walking my dogs...I know it was him because I could tell by his size and the way he hopped up the hill. That did make me happy for a little while.

On this note, my movie recommendation for the week is Because of Winn-Dixie. Yes, I'm a willing participant in watching movies that are sweet, warm and fuzzy, even sappy. :) But this is not just a little kids' movie, and it's not cheesy, and the dog doesn't die at the end. I think anyone would like this movie, and if they're a guy and they leave making fun of it, it's only cause they're trying to hide the fact that it actually moved them! The little girl in the movie doesn't have a mama either, except hers abandoned her on purpose when she was three. The story is all about a bunch of people who are lonely and bitter in the world because they've been through really hard things...but this dog brings them all together and they're not alone anymore. I know what you're thinking. Just rent it!!

A purpose in sorrow

2005-12-23T09:30:00.002-05:00

I just read this...and while I don't like to admit it because it just doesn't seem fair, there's no way to dispute its truth:

It is possible to grow more in a year of grieving than in several years of life with few difficulties or problems.

A Mother's Love

2005-12-16T15:55:00.001-05:00

I've heard it said and repeated many times that no one can love you like your mother can. I recently found this...

There is a force in this world that is greater than any other I have ever witnessed. It is beautiful in its sweet tenderness and awesome in its unconquerable strength. It is so touching it can bring you to tears, and yet so powerful it would frighten you should you ever be on the wrong side of its wrath as it seeks to protect and defend. It has had immense influence on humanity down through the ages, working its wonder on the world one person at a time. It is in itself proof of God, for there could be no other source for something so pure and precious, magical and meaningful, gracious and generous, tender and true, powerful and passionate, life-giving and life-affirming.

What is it? A mother's love for her child.

Archived Entries

2005-12-16T15:35:00.001-05:00

Because I've had a couple people ask, I wanted to post that I've been keeping this journal since March of this year, so the entries listed to your right are not all there is. Click on the link that says "View Archives" and you can go all the way back if you want.

Where have I been...

2005-12-16T14:50:00.003-05:00

I can't believe it's been over two months since my last entry. So much has happened, and so many times I've felt the need to start typing it all out here and haven't had the time or was afraid I'd put myself in a funk by talking about things. I'll see what I can remember.

I went to the first funeral this year since my mom's. It was for my boyfriend's grandmother on his dad's side. I unfortunately never got to meet her. It was incredibly hard being there, but sometimes you have to do what you have to do when the people you love need you. I really had to focus my attention harder on their family rather than letting my thoughts settle on the deja vu or my own pain. I was really glad to be able to be there for my boyfriend and his dad. I do remember thinking when we had to watch them start to lower her casket that I'm so glad my mom chose to be cremated. It's a morbid thing to talk about, I know, but necessary, and I'm glad we did it the way we did...I don't know if I could have handled it any other way. I suppose for some, burial represents something or gives more of a "closure," but I'm really not sure...everyone grieves differently and things affect people very differently. All I know is that I am thankful I did not have to see my mom lying in a casket or attend a graveside service for her...even though I was with her when she died and held her for a long time afterward, I did not want to see her body at a funeral. Enough of the morbid...I don't know why I even started writing about that. I also remember while sitting in the service, the pastor's words really struck me in some way, and I went up to him after everything was all over and he was about to leave and through my tears asked him to pray for me because I didn't want to be angry at God anymore. I've gone through this struggle between blaming him and seeking him ever since Day 1 when she was diagnosed. Sometimes I will have a couple days where I think I've finally let go of my anger towards him, and then something will trigger it again. Anyway, a couple weeks after the funeral, we went to eat dinner with his dad and stepmom, and his dad gave both me and my boyfriend's brother's girlfriend (who is also my friend and also lost her mom much too young) each a bracelet that had belonged to his mother. He saidhe knew she would have wanted us to have them even though we never met because she would have loved us so much. I think that was one of the greatest honors I've ever received. My boyfriend actually got to choose which one I got, and he happened to pick out the one that perfectly matched a necklace that my mom used to wear to work almost every day when she was a secretary.

I'm sure a lot happened before Thanksgiving, but I can't remember anything. That's why I'm mad at myself for not doing entries the moment I feel the need. I don't want to forget anything on this journey for some reason. I want to be able to look back several years from now and compare my feelings and thoughts to the words I've written here. I spent Thanksgiving at the beach with my boyfriend's family. It was a beautiful distraction. I was not ready to come back home. Everyone was so happy and loving and the beach is so beautiful that there was really no way I could dwell on my pain for those few days...it was blissful. It doesn't mean I didn't think about her, and it doesn't mean I didn't tear up now and then when something would remind me of her. But it sure was nice to have that break. Seems like I was the one who made the biggest deal of Thanksgiving around our house growing up - I'm hard set on traditions and find a lot of comfort and security in them. So that particular day was not as difficult as it otherwise might have been. One thing that did continually play at the back of my mind, however, was that last year I was going to prepare a big Thanksgiving meal for my parents and boyfriend and bought all the stuff...but that was right when she started throwing up a lot and couldn't hold down food. She hadn't even been diagnosed with cancer yet...we thought it was anxiety and nerves at the time. Little did we know when we got her to the doctor that it was something else entirely. Why she couldn't have gotten a little sick sooner than she did so that maybe we could have bought some time by catching the cancer earlier, I don't know...but that's usually the nature of lung cancer. There are almost never any signs or sickness, so people have no idea they have it until it's too late...they go in for something unrelated and something funny shows up that concerns the doctors. So obviously I never got to make or share that last Thanksgiving dinner with them. It wasn't her fault; I just wish we'd had that. For her birthday weekend this year, just a few weeks before she died, she spent the weekend at my house with me...we did nothing at all but lay in my bed and read silly magazines and talk. I fed her. Sometimes we napped. She said it was the best weekend of her life...
On a different note, I started at a new job about a month ago. It's amazing how your life changes once you are doing something for a living that you truly love and enjoy. You get a renewed sense of purpose and fulfillment. After a long, hard stretch of not having a job and working harder than you can imagine to find a new one, I finally reached the light at the end of the tunnel that my boyfriend kept promising me was just around the bend. When you go through something incredibly scary and difficult, you really learn to appreciate the thing you've been waiting for even more than you could have before, had you not just gone through a period of fear, depression, and waiting.

When December hit, I was actually a little bit excited about Christmas...I decorated my house and put up my tree. Christmas WAS a big deal around our house, mostly because my mom felt it was important to give that to a child - the wonder, the anticipation, the security. It's not that she and my dad didn't care about Christmas. But I think most of the extra mile they always went was for my benefit. As I'm sure most kids do, I always woke up extremely early every Christmas morning, even all the way through high school...I'd go into my parents' room and wake them up because I just couldn't stand the waiting anymore. Of course, it probably hadn't been that long since they'd went to bed cause they'd stayed up all night trying to assemble things. My mom always wrapped some presents and left some "new" ones unwrapped in front that were from you-know-who. We had a collection of mismatched but very special ornaments that I loved to get out every year and reminisce over. I don't even know where all of them came from. Many were my own elementary artwork - the clothespin reindeer, the sand dollar, the clay pots that had been turned into bells. I drew a lot of comfort as a child through that yearly repetition and also from watching my mom transform the house for Christmas and decorating the tree withher. The magic of Christmas morning and all the anticipation were so special to me. We always celebrated as our little family, and I'm having a hard time being flexible and accepting that things are different now. I'm struggling with the fact that I'm not a child anymore and don't have a child of my own to surprise, so most of that magical feeling is gone. The real meaning of Christmas still rings true for me, but it's like mourning a whole other loss when it hits you that Mom isn't there to create that magical feeling anymore. I feel especially guilty because last Christmas I was so depressed over her sickness and some other things that I basically sat in the dark all day and cried...I could have done that this year instead and actually spent the day with her while I had it to spend. I feel really horrible about that...it was like I just couldn't handle seeing her that way on that one day. But as I said earlier, you do things you have to do even when it's hard...and I should have. I did clean up her whole bedroom and did other things to make her feel special for the holidays. I guess I should stop feeling guilty because I know with certainty that she doesn't hold it against me. It just hurts so bad knowing she won't be physically present this year for such a special day. (On a cheerful side note, when I just typed the word "physically," it made me think of the movie Madagascar where the lemur king sings about being phys-i-cal-lee fit and it made me smile.) I don't know how I'll handle Christmas this year, where I'll spend it, or who I'll spend it with. I have plans made that I would really like to carry out and try to enjoy being with the many people still in my life that I love. You just never know what your frame of mind is going to be til the time comes.

The other day I heard a Christmas song on the radio that talked about counting your blessings instead of sheep when you can't sleep...it annoyed me because I couldn't get it out of my head, but it did sound like something my mom would have said. She was always saying stuff like that. I remember not long after she died, I saw a church sign that said to count your blessings, and I was driving down the road and yelled, "God, how do you expect me to count my blessings when you've taken away the very thing that was most important to me?" I was so mad at what I'd lost that I couldn't even see anything I still had. So the other night I couldn't sleep (and hadn't slept good in several nights) and remembered the annoying song, so I tried it, and before I knew it, I had slept all through the night. I don't know exactly what brought me to the point of feeling like I could thank God for anything again - time? The Christmas season? I don't know. I've been so angry at him. But part of me can't forget the things I was taught as a child and the way I've felt him looking after me all my life in spite of circumstances.

Knock on wood, but I have been finding that my heart is softening some toward God again...I can't completelly let go of the things I've experienced in my own life where I sensed an overwhelming knowledge that God was looking out for me. Is it the passing of time that has brought it on? Or the Christmas season and I just can't help it? I think it's that and also some movies I watched recently that hit something home for me...the Narnia movie and, curiously enough, Walk the Line, the movie about Johnny Cash. Watching the portrayal of Jesus' sacrifice through Aslan the lion, I couldn't help but tear up and think, "That's what you did for me." And watching Johnny Cash's life, the hard, hard things he went through and the years of searching and messing up but eventually being redeemed...it really got me thinking. The other day I said to myself, "She would have died whether you had God in your life or not, because bad things happen to everyone and no one is immune...doesn't make it right or even fair, but it's reality...so you can choose to go through this with his help or without it...if I have access to such comfort and love, why would I refuse it?" I was completely unable to think anything like that several months ago. Granted, who knows how I'll feel tomorrow. Grief is the most up and down rollercoaster you could possibly end up on. But, and I can't explain it, I sort of feel him reaching out to me and drawing me toward something beautiful.

Here is a saying that I've had on my fridge for several years...I conveniently overlook it most of the time because sometimes it'snot comforting...but sometimes it is:

We enjoy warmth because we have been cold.
We appreciate light because we have been in darkness.
By the same token, we can experience joy because
we have known sorrow.

I've also come across this web site, which was apparently made because of Sept. 11, and it has some really wonderful quotes and thoughts on grief, suffering, and healing:

http://www.journeyofhearts.org/jofh/kirstimd/911_quote.htm

I think that's about it for now. To anyone reading this who is also a motherless daughter, I wish you a sense of peace and calm and, most of all, hope this Christmas.

Mother & Child

2005-09-24T20:21:00.003-04:00

I went to my first local Motherless Daughters group today. I left feeling so much lighter having talked some things out and being able to so strongly relate to other women who know what I'm going through. I haven't made it all the way through the book Motherless Daughters, but I am so glad that it was written and started a sort of movement around the country to allow girls and women to link up and share their stories instead of having to feel all alone in what we're going through. If you have also lost your mom, I would definitely recommend trying to find a local group where you can talk to others face to face...it really makes a world of difference. You can try going to meetup.com and doing a search or just doing a general internet search for "Motherless Daughters" along with your city.

On another subject, Mary Cassatt has always been my favorite artist since I was introduced to her work in high school. Actually, there was a large copy of one of her paintings hanging in the hallway of my elementary school (The Boating Party, left), which I always loved and marveled at every time I passed by, but I didn't know until later that it was by her. The main reason I always loved her work is that most of it depicts the sweet and powerful mother-child bond like no one else I have ever seen. I also love the style of her paintings, which is Impressionism, because the brushstrokes and techniques she used add to the softness and tenderness of the bond she shows. She shows simple, everyday moments between mothers and their children, and I was always reminded of my precious mom and the deep friendship we shared when I looked at the paintings. I even bought a large reproduction of one of the paintings a few years ago. This was long before my mom was ever sick...I always sort of idolized and certainly adored my mom. Now I look at the paintings and feel a mix of sadness because she will never be able to hold me in her lap again (even though I'm 25, it's still a hard thought to think), a sense of gratefulness for the time I did get with her, which I wouldn't trade for ANYthing, and then a sense of hopefulness that someday I will be able to experience a mother-child bond of my own and will hopefully be able to pass along the intense love she had for me to my own child. Anyway, I thought I would post some of the paintings for those of you who haven't seen them before...I hope they'll bring a sense of comfort to you too as you remember what it was like to be a little girl snuggled in your mother's protective arms.

I love all the paintings, but I think the first one is my favorite because it's called Breakfast in Bed (right) and reminds me of all the Saturdays growing up when I'd wake up earlier than my mom probably would have liked, crept into her room, and asked if I could climb in bed with her and watch Saturday morning cartoons.

When will it let up??

2005-08-29T12:52:00.003-04:00

I'm really struggling to keep it all together right now. My car was broken into on Friday night while we were having dinner out to celebrate a friend's birthday. Everything was stolen out of it, and I've just found out that my insurance is not going to cover anything. And the policy I thought would cover my CDs apparently has a specific clause saying they don't cover CDs. What the crap is insurance even FOR? I didn't ask for some dumb punks to break into my car and steal my stuff. And I pay for insurance every month. Yet somehow I am coming out the loser here and paying for all the loss myself, as if I really have the money to pay for all of it. I am not going to be able to make my rent this month (I wouldn't anyway, even without all this). I just assumed insurance would cover everything. I thought it was all going to be taken care of. It wasn't even that late at night - it happened between 9:30 and 12:30. The scary part is that it can happen anywhere. No area is immune. I sort of don't feel safe in general. Gross kids touched everything in my car and were looking through all my stuff, and it feels horrible. My cell phone, which used to belong to my mom, was one of the things that was taken. Why did she not send me another red sweater to make me remember to take my phone? Why am I blaming this on her when it was my own stupid fault for leaving it in the car?

I am being driven by nothing but fear and anger lately...fear of the next loss that could potentially happen and anger over the losses that have already happened. Last night I yelled at my dogs really loud when they wouldn't listen to me. Then I sank down crying because I felt so bad. I held them and told them I was sorry and cried and prayed out loud to God to please take away my anger and bitterness because it's spilling over into every area of my life and they way I treat the ones I love. I can sense myself becoming hard and bitter and fearful, and I don't want that for myself, but I don't seem to know how to help it. I felt better after I prayed, but then this morning I make these calls and find out about all this money I have to shell out that I don't have...it's all just getting to be too much. I'm only one person and I have been through too much in too little time to make sense of anything or "finish" one grief process before I experience another loss. It's just like the last time I was at the beach and we were playing out in the water...the water was nice and calm and gently rolling for a long time, and then suddenly these huge waves started slamming us all over the place...I was being thrown every which way and couldn't catch my breath from the last wave before another one came and slammed me under the water again. My boyfriend practically had to drag me out because I was struggling so much for air that I could no longer breathe at all. That's exactly what my life seems like ever since I became an adult. I am so afraid of when the next loss is going to happen that I cannot even enjoy the good things that exist in the present. I can't even hardly count my blessings that I still have because the losses are so many and left me so gaping. Just over the course of five years, three pets died, I got divorced, and my mom died. I know there are people out there who have been through even worse, but it seems pretty damn bad to me as it is, and I can't help that. I don't want to go through life saying, "Woe is me," but how many things am I expected to have to deal with? I keep thinking of The Secret Life of Bees. I feel like I'm turning into May, who has lost the ability to process the fact that when bad things happen, it doesn't mean all hope is lost forever. I also keep thinking about the part when the main character, whose mother had died when she was four, threw a jar of honey against the wall because she was so angry she just wanted to destroy something...when the glass was shattered all over and the sticky honey was dripping off everything, part of her felt like, "What have I done? This will be awful trying to clean up," and part of her felt like, "Who cares...what's a stupid broken jar of honey to clean up matter when your mom is dead...it's such a small thing in comparison." I feel just like that sometimes...so what if my car got broken into and I have to pay lots of money to get everything replaced? Losing my mom was so much worse that those are almost no big deal in comparison...and yet, another voice is screaming, "Have I not been through enough already? When does it end? Why do all these bad things keep happening?" I was talking to my boyfriend about all this last night, and I said, "Sometimes I feel like that bumper sticker...'life sucks, and then you die.'" Then I immediately felt horrible for saying it like that, because that must make him feel like chopped liver, like he's not enough sunshine in my life to even matter, and that's not really how I feel at all. Lately I am also being extremely haunted by memories of things my ex-husband used to say to me that I thought I had put behind me, but lately they are flooding my head and making me question my self-worth again. Sometimes I relive all the deaths in my mind...I guess something triggers a memory, and there it all is again, replaying in my head like a movie. I know God never promised that life would be easy but that he would be with us every step of the way. And I know there are people with much less to be thankful for and that I have so much to make me grateful for and warm my heart. There is just SO much going on in my head that I don't quite know how to process all at once. I just would like a break in the waves...a chance to at least catch my breath.

Another verse that I got in my daily GriefShare email...

"Come . . . let us walk in the light of the Lord. . . . The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death, a light has dawned" (Isaiah 2:5, 9:2)

Maybe this really will happen. I really hope so.

Lack of contact. :(

2005-08-22T14:24:00.002-04:00

It has been a long time since I've had any contact from my mom. Or, if I have, I haven't noticed it. I don't know if I'm doing something to block myself from it or if she's not sending it. It's hard for me to even remember that any of those connections I've written about ever happened. I don't dream about her as often. It feels lonely...I feel kind of cut off. I did come home one day to find a strange message on my answering machine with a short mumbling in a woman's voice that I SWEAR sounds just like her, and other people have agreed. I have been extremely angry a lot of the time lately, and I wonder if she's been trying to reach out and I'm so mad that I can't accept it or see it. A lot of it is that I recently had to survive my first birthday without her, and it was an important year too. I'm just so pissed off at the unfairness of it all.

Held

2005-08-17T15:06:00.003-04:00

I've heard this song on the radio a few times but never *heard* all the words til today when I found the lyrics...It's called "Held" by Natalie Grant. You should go here - http://www.myspace.com/therealnataliegrant - and listen to it; it's quite beautiful.

This is the background info on the song:

"Christa Wells, a part-time songwriter and stay-at-home mom of three in North Carolina, wrote this song in response to two very difficult losses that happened within 48 hours. And for her, I think it must have been one of those total shake-your-fist-at-God moments where you cry, 'Why God?' These are the things in life that we cannot understand or explain, and the lyrics reflect that honesty. God didn’t promise us we’d be okay or that life would be easy. My faith does not protect me from pain, but it provides me with peace. God only promises us that when we suffer, when we’re in pain, we’ll be held in His arms through every circumstance."

Two months is too little; (how long my mom lived after her diagnosis)
They let him go.
They had no sudden healing.

To think that Providence
Would take a child from his mother (though mine was the opposite)
While she prays is appalling.

Who told us we’d be rescued?
What has changed and
Why should we be saved from nightmares?

We’re asking why this happens to us
Who have died to live; it’s unfair.

Chorus:

This is what it means to be held,
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive…

This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We’d be held.

This hand is bitterness;
We want to taste it and
Let the hatred numb our sorrows.

The wise hand opens slowly
To lilies of the valley and tomorrow.

If hope is born of suffering,

If this is only the beginning,
Can we not wait for one hour
Watching for our savior?

This is what it means to be held,
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive…
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We’d be held.

Joy Williams, my favorite singer, sent me this email recently (I hope she wouldn't mind me quoting it)...it's wonderful food for thought...

Jen...

I really appreciate you writing. And YES, I remember you. It was hard not to forget the tears in your eyes that day in Atlanta...

I'm sorry you've had to deal with the loss of your mother, and there's nothing I feel like I could say to ease that pain. I just want to let you know that my heart would ache, boil, and bring me to asking the very same questions you've been asking God if I lost my mother, too.

One thing that my counselor told me: God is pleased in the wrestling. Meaning, He does not get angry when we shout at Him. He does not leave though we feel like walking out. He holds on when we want to yank our hands away from His... and I believe He sees our desire to make sense of it all as a journey to knowing His Truth, His Heart.

It is hard to deal with the fact that we are promised to deal with pain as long as we live on this planet, as long as we are human. But what helps me is to know that God offers total rest and restoration in Heaven, and offers Himself to get us through these days on earth.

Glad you're dating a real gentleman.... and grateful you wrote.

- joy

to which I wrote back...

You really put into words in your email what I still KNOW to be true about God regardless of how mean I sometimes see him as being because of what happened. Though many people don't view believing in God as being logical, it's my logic that reminds me he is not out to zap me with lightning bolts, he does not just enjoy seeing me in pain, and he really does love me and wants to comfort me. Somehow I know those things are true deep down even at my lowest, even when I'm yelling at him out loud that I feel like he's out to get me.

A familiar verse that has new meaning for me now is:

Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. (Hebrews 4:16)

We don't have to be afraid of God...we can run to him no matter what we've done, what we've said, where we've been, or even how little we trust him right now. He wants to help us through.

I struggle so much with being furious at God one minute and then turning right around and clinging to him desperately for hope. I am thankful that he is big enough and strong enough to handle our questions, our anger, our fears...and still hold us.

Lung Cancer

2005-08-10T13:16:00.003-04:00

Lung cancer is the NUMBER ONE cancer cause of death in America. Are you surprised? Most people don't realize that. Most people think it's breast cancer or prostate cancer or some other kind that is more publicly campaigned against. Most people also don't realize how fatal it is. When my mom first found out she had it, we thought, Lance Armstrong survived a type of cancer...cancer isn't a death sentence anymore...we will fight this and win. But not all cancers act alike. Lung cancer is a death sentence. And it does not always wait until you are old to strike.

A note: lung cancer is almost 100% preventable. How? By not smoking or quitting if you already smoke.

Lung cancer has almost no symptoms early on, so most people, like my mom, don't find out they have it until it is already too late. It really isn't cureable. Once you have it and it's not in the early stages anymore, there's not much they can do. The life span of someone with lung cancer is two years or less...almost always less. Once you find out you have it, who knows how long it has already been present. My mom was diagnosed in December 2004 and was gone by February 2005...two months. She wasn't old either, only 60. Stop thinking it can't happen to you. If you don't smoke, don't start. If you do, quit. Stop making excuses for yourself and just do it. Stop being selfish and think of your children and your other loved ones you will leave behind if you can't just quit for your own sake. Get yourself screened and checked up often, especially if you have been smoking for many years, so that you can catch it early if it happens. They can't cure it, but they might be able to prolong the time you have left, and more time means everything. And by the way, "light" cigarettes are not less harmful to your health, no matter what you are told to believe in the ads.

"Stopping at age 50 cuts the risk of dying in half, while quitting at age 30 almost eliminates the risk." "Quitting is good. It's always good to quit, no matter how long you've smoked," Edelman said. "You'll reduce your risk of lung cancer, reduce the degree to whichyou have chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, reduce your risk of other types of cancer and of heart disease. The data is very clear. Even if you're 75, you can benefit from stopping." (http://articles.health.msn.com/id/100103657)

Another good article on lung cancer:
http://articles.health.msn.com/id/100099695/site/100000000/

MSN's lung cancer resource page:
http://health.msn.com/centers/lungcancer.armx

You've seen the commercials on TV - visit www.thetruth.com. So maybe they're extreme. If that's what it takes to reach some people, I'm for it.
www.tobaccofree.org
www.anti-smoking.org

If it makes you feel better and eases your conscience, you can think I'm just trying to give some kind of purpose to my loss by taking a stand against lung cancer. You can think, some people are addicted to caffeine, some to food, some to cigarettes, so what's the difference? (I like this quote from thetruth.com: "That's not a fair comparison because you can't compare a very dangorous substance to a potentially dangerous substance. It's like saying "pouring toxic waste into our oceans is no different than dumping sugar into it." Both could be harmful if taken to the extreme, but one is obviously much more dangerous, even when not taken to an extreme.) You can feel sorry for all the poor business owners who are ordered not to allow smoking because their county has made an ordinance. But I could care less about what you think of me or of anti-smoking laws if it means even just one person will quit smoking and one less person will die too soon. I'm not just a grieving daughter trying to channel my anger. Yes, it burns me up (excuse the pun) to see people smoking. But mostly I just care...I envision their children or future children going through what I'm going through unnecessarily. If my mom had died from a disease or something that was not "her fault," you wouldn't think it odd of me to donate money towards its research, right? I realize that it was her own choice and that regardless of the relentless tobacco advertising, she still had the option to quit. But does that mean she deserves what she got? Absolutely not. Something has to be done to make people more aware. To be fair, I'll even post this blog talking about how "annoying and extreme" the Truth commercials are: http://www.epinions.com/tele-review-206E-A588B37-39D7E197-prod5. What I would say to that person is they have obviously never watched someone die young from lung cancer. I would also say that while we never know for sure if we will get in a car accident or plane crash or die the moment we walk out our front door, there is more of a chance that we WON'T than we WILL. With smoking, there is a MUCH greater chance that you WILL than you WON'T. Also, with just living life day to day, you don't always have control over what will happen to you when you're driving, flying, etc. But YOU HAVE THE CHOICE whether you will smoke or not...you do control your own destiny with that. The Truth people are not trying to be holier-than-thou or make everyone fit into their ideology. That's not what it's about at all. They are not saying they're better than anyone else because they choose not to smoke. They're not crusading because they have nothing better to do with their time than make everyone else like them. What they're doing is using an extreme way to continue to spread the word about the dangers of smoking. Sure, everyone knows it's dangerous already, but if lung cancer is still the number one cancer cause of death in America despite the fact that everyone has been told it's bad for you, then I think we can stand to make people even more aware of its actual fatality factor and do so in an extreme way that might actually grab their attention.

Maybe everyone dies when it's "their time" - but maybe not. Why take the chance?

Feeling awful and need to pour it out...

2005-08-09T00:36:00.004-04:00

The first thing I saw when I got online today was that Peter Jennings passed away of lung cancer. I knew he had it...I remember the day they announced he had it. It bothered me then, but even more so now that he's gone. Not only do I feel so sad for his family, but it of course brings back everything for me. As if it were ever far from my mind to begin with. He was a smoker, just like my mom. I know that not everyone who gets lung cancer was a smoker, but the majority are. I just do not understand why people want to take that chance with their life. My mom used to tell a funny story about taking me to the grocery store when I was very little (before I ever started school and learned about the dangers of smoking) and standing in the checkout line to buy cigarettes. When we got up to make the purchase, I suddenly yelled out, "I don't WANT a mommy who smokes!!" We always laughed about that story. But right now, thinking about it makes me want to shake my fist at her and yell at her, "WHY WOULDN'T YOU QUIT? I begged you for years and years. I would beg and plead with you, PLEASE don't cause me to lose my mother too early in my life." I think she cut down, but she never fully quit until a couple months before she was even diagnosed. She told me she had quit; for years she told me that, and I believed her. But she hadn't; she just didn't do it in front of me anymore. I would sometimes think I'd smell it on her clothes and ask her about it, and she would tell me she had most certainly not smoked. I think she was just so afraid of letting me down, of what I would think of her to know she was weak or addicted. No one ever thinks stuff will happen to them. Her own father smoked his whole life and died at the ripe old age of 90-something and not of lung cancer. So why on earth would she think it would happen to her. People use that as their excuse all the time, that some people who smoke for years never develop lung cancer and die of old age. But that is not the majority. Most people who smoke for a long time will die of lung cancer. Why do people want to chance it? You don't know how your OWN PERSONAL BODY is going to be affected by a substance. Maybe lung cancer won't cut your life short. But then again, maybe it will. Why take the chance that it's going to be the latter? As I was driving home in my car tonight, I kept seeing over and over my tiny, fragile, sick, weak mom lying on the exam table at her last oncologist appointment when the doctor tried to tell us as gently as he could that she had a matter of weeks or days left. I keep seeing her lying there, so composed and peaceful but struggling to take it all in, that she was not going to see me get married again, she was not going to see me have children, she was going to leave me motherless before I ever hit 25. I keep seeing her in her little terrycloth turban because almost all her hair was gone. She was wearing a new blue velour lounging outfit that looked so pretty on her but that she would never wear again...she would trade it in for a hospital gown for the rest of the days she had. I keep replaying when I asked her what she would like me to tell her grandchildren for her someday and she said, "You tell them to be just like their mother." I keep seeing me holding her hand and seeing the blankness in her stare on the last day of her life...she was staring open-eyed but not at me or the hospice room or anything in it...I was watching her every breath because I knew that any one of them could be her last. I was so afraid of seeing the last one. Yet it was so hard waiting to see it that I almost thought I'd go crazy if it didn't happen. I was telling her it was okay to let go because I could see that it was time. I remember the exact moment when she drew that last breath and never breathed again. Maybe it was just her time to go or maybe it wasn't. But I can't help but be angry that it was caused by smoking. I don't care if it was her choice to smoke or not. Some people think choice is everything in life. Choose to kill unborn babies. Choose to take drugs. Choose to drive drunk. Choose to smoke. But sometimes people are not well enough equipped to make the right choice, the best choice. Freedom and choice are one thing. Having the right to choose to do certain things to your body just doesn't always make sense to me. I've already mentioned that the reason my mom started smoking was that they handed out packs of cigarettes on her senior class trip to Washington, DC. They didn't know any better back then. All they knew was that smoking was pleasurable. By the time studies had come out about the dangers, she was used to it, it was a habit. She struggled a lot with anxiety problems, as do I, but they didn't have Paxil and other helpful anxiety medications for almost the whole time she had the problems. Smoking was the only thing she knew to do to calm herself down when she was obsessively worrying, which she often did. I'm not making excuses for her. I'm just torn between feeling so sad for her that she didn't think she could be okay without relying on a substance and being angry with her for not even quitting for her tearful, begging little girl. I generally think people do the best they can at the time with whatever tools they have. But this can't be an excuse either. Why can some people not be reached? Why can you talk to some people until you are absolutely blue in the face and never, ever get through to them? As much as I adore and almost idolize my mom, I don't want to make excuses for her or see her as someone she wasn't...she was imperfect, just like me, just like everyone, and I love her beauties, her imperfections, her quirks, her faults...all of it. I am just feeling so frustrated tonight that sometimes when you can see where someone's heading in their life and it's down the wrong road, nothing you say or do will sway them. There were people who lit up cigarettes right outside the freaking funeral home after her service! Oh, how I wanted to run out there like a stark raving lunatic and ask what was wrong with them. (Did I already write about the time I met one of my friends' friends for the first time while he was smoking? I was already emotional that night as it was, and suddenly all I could see were the cigarettes and the smoke and I literally thought I was going to snap. And then all of a sudden, out of my mouth it came: "My mom just died of lung cancer." That was all I had said the whole night; hadn't even introduced myself. He said, "I'm sorry," and kept right on puffing away. Granted, I know he didn't know what else to do and was completely caught off-guard by my sudden statement. Grief can make you do some crazy things, I will admit. I did clear it up with him later the next time I saw him, and he said he was so disturbed by what I'd said that he actually quit....for one whole night. But maybe the seed was planted. Just cause grief makes you nuts sometimes doesn't mean there's no validity to your crusade.) There are people who find out they have cancer or alcoholism and just keep right on a-goin with their addictions. Some people have the ability to step back and listen to someone who is trying to help them and they try to put into practice ways to make their life better. I'd like to think I'm one of those types of people. It's always hard to hear certain things you're doing that you aren't aware you're doing, but I don't want to go through life not knowing the truth. And I'm not saying we should go through our whole lives without ever taking any risks. But there are healthy risks and unhealthy ones. If something is not healthy, don't do it. In my head, it's that simple. I'm not even a health nut by any means. But it's not like everyone in the whole world doesn't know by now that smoking is not healthy. Even if you don't die from it someday, it still causes you to be short of breath and all kinds of other problems.

Life is short and precious. Take the healthy risks, like leaving a job you hate to pursue your passion, get up on stage and belt out a song even though you're scared to death, make a decision to go hike up a mountain or something. Leave the unhealthy ones behind because it just isn't worth the potential consequences. Some of you reading this will be affected by it...some won't. But if maybe just one of you is, then it was worth me saying it.

I think most things in life are about balance...the balance between logically knowing anything can happen the moment you walk out the door in the morning so you make each moment count and being so paranoid about what COULD happen that you don't enjoy the gifts of NOW...the balance between enjoying the gifts of now/living in the moment and still realizing you can't do whatever the heck you want all the time without it affecting others and creating consequences...the balance between giving of yourself to others who are hurting and need you and also learning how to take a little too so that you don't become depleted yourself...even the balance between trying to make a difference in the world by going on an anti-smoking campaign such as my rant here and realizing that you can't let your life become completely consumed by even such a worthy cause that you forget the good in people too.

It has also been difficult the last few weeks without any contact or connection with her. For a while there, it seemed like I was having contact after contact, and it seems like it's been a long time now. It was much easier when those things were happening. Right now the sense that she's GONE is much sharper and hits me even harder. I was also really sick for almost two weeks with a stomach virus...and I guess everyone wants their mama when they're sick.

P.S. I bought a t-shirt that has a big no smoking symbol on it and the words "there are cooler ways to die" underneath. Extreme, maybe, but I like it. Not that dying in any way is cool. But you get the drift. They have them at delias.com and goodietwosleeves.com.

Re-entry into life after vacation...

2005-07-25T16:45:00.002-04:00

I just got back last night from being at the beach all last week. I honestly think that vacation may have saved me from a breakdown. But now trying to readjust back into the real world, I feel like I may have one anyway. I was so glad to see my critters again, but I did NOT want to come back home. In that one blissful week, I got to spend tons of time with my amazing boyfriend and his amazing family, not deal with my job or the people I work with, not dwell on my enormous loss...all we did was eat, sleep, cook, read, talk, and play in the ocean. I know it must sound so immature, but all I want to do is go back. I know I couldn't stay forever...logically I know I have to work and re-enter reality, but it's so depressing. I never minded being a grownup before, even with all its responsibilities and highs and lows. And I know I'll readjust again. But I hadn't had a real vacation in an awfully long time, and I can't believe how much it can help you to go on one. I know it wouldn't be so difficult coming back if I had a job I really enjoyed. I feel like if I don't quit my job soon, I'm going to scream. I already had a mini breakdown in front of my boss a couple days before I left for vacation where I sobbed and actually told him out loud how much I hate my job. I was astonished at myself...it was like something in my head just snapped and I couldn't stop crying or saying things like that out loud. I'm all too aware now of how short life really is so why not have a job you LIKE. What a concept. I did used to like my job, but now I swear I'm going crazy doing the same mundane things every day, nothing creative, nothing helpful or meaningful. I want to do something that matters, something that makes even a small corner of the world a little better. So many people are hurting...

Anyway, last week was one of the most wonderful weeks of my life. I got so used to being with my boyfriend every single day...we see each other a whole lot as it is, but it's not the same, and now it's like I'm going through withdrawal. I feel like his family has really embraced me, and it was so wonderful to be pulled in by all of them. Something has deepened even more in his eyes when he looks at me now too. I'm sort of afraid it will go away once real life and work stress kick back in for him. I guess because I've already been through a divorce, losing my mom, and losing several pets, all in the span of five years, I get really afraid of who's going to go away or die next, who's going to get tired of me and abandon me. It's really hard to deal with sometimes. I feel terrible when I go through these doubting moments because he honestly does make every effort to show me I can be secure in our relationship. He's always telling me he's not going anywhere and he doesn't want to be with anyone else. I think because I love him so much and feel so much like I have "come home" when I am with him, I'm just really scared of losing him. I wouldn't say that I live in fear exactly. But it's a background feeling that plagues me now and then if I let it. You never know what's going to happen every day when you wake up, or actually if you will wake up at all. Most of the time, I can deal with this reality because I have to; we all do. But now and then it gets overwhelming to think about.

I did have one bad night on vacation where I started missing my mom overwhelmingly...I couldn't sleep, which is highly unusual for me, and I was MAD MAD MAD that she's gone. I finally got up and went outside on the deck and fell asleep in a chair. Something about the sound of the ocean is so soothing and makes you feel like it's all going to be okay. I think I've mentioned by boyfriend's brother's girlfriend before, whose mom died a few months before ours. She and I have become pretty close, and it helped having her there. We had already met lots of the family before, but there were a lot of new people too and we also didn't know who knew about our moms and who didn't...like if they were told beforehand so they'd know not to say anything to upset us or whatever. It was fine either way, whether they'd been told or not. We didn't mind, we were just curious. It was so hard for us not to go up to everyone and say, "My mom is dead. Okay, I just wanted to get that out of the way." It's like it becomes your whole identity - the girl whose mom died - and you just want to tell everyone because it seems to explain everything about you somehow. I was able to get one of the Lance Armstrong LIVE STRONG bracelets from a souvenir shop. My mom had read his book when she got sick and wanted one of the bracelets, but they were in such demand then you couldn't find them. Now they are pretty much just a fashion statement and everyone wears them without even thinking about what they mean. But I got one since my mom couldn't.

I ended up reading someone's copy of The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd. If you haven't read it yet, you have to read it. I won't lie to you, there are parts that will be very hard to get through, especially if you've lost your mom too...you find out just from the back cover that the girl's mom died when she was little. But that book changed something in me for the better, made a mark on me that won't go away. It dealt a lot with her feelings from being "motherless" but also had enough light fiction and humor to keep you wanting to read it, and she turns out really good and strong by the end. The book I'm reading right now is Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers. It starts out really difficult as well, but it is so worth the read. My mom was a huge fan of the book, and someone else told me I needed to get it to read on my vacation, so I did. I'm almost done with it. Another one has also been recommended to me called Forever Ours by Janis Amatuzio...she said it's a lot like the Feathers Brush My Heart book where it's all real stories of women getting contact from their moms after their deaths.

I don't really feel good physically today either. I miss the salty air and the sand between my toes. I actually got used to seeing myself without makeup, and it was me and it was okay. Processed food even kinda makes me feel yucky now after eating so much fresh stuff and things made from people's gardens. Something about last week made me different...I'm not exactly the same as I was before I left, in a really good way, I think. I just wish it weren't so hard and depressing for it to be over with.

Don't Forget Your Cell Phone

2005-07-16T01:01:00.003-04:00

I forgot my cell phone when I left for work yesterday morning. All day I thought about how Mom used to pick at me whenever I'd forget my phone or wouldn't answer the first time she called...she always said, "I'm gonna take that phone away from you if you don't remember to take it with you and answer it!" It became a big joke.

This morning when I walked out of the bathroom after getting ready for work, I suddenly noticed a bright red thing was sitting on my bed. I didn't remember seeing it when I first got up either. I walked over and realized it was a shirt, and once I got over there, I realized it was right next to where I keep my cell phone on the night table. Seeing it made me get my phone right then and there to be sure I wouldn't forget it again.

My dogs have not been known to drag clothes out of my closet. Especially not ones that are buried under other clothes in a bin.

Dark Water, White Flashes

2005-07-16T01:00:00.003-04:00

I'd been wanting to see the new movie Dark Water for several months since I saw the first preview. I really tend to love movies like that. So when my friend, whose mom also passed away not too long before mine did, called and said she wanted to hang out because she was feeling really sad about her mom, I thought we'd go see that movie. The movie centers around a single mom and her little daughter. Their relationship reminded me so much of my mom and me, especially of when I was little...the way the mom spoke to her little girl, teased her, played with her, and hugged on her a lot. It really made me feel good inside to see my childhood relationship with my mom acted out like that. Well, I won't spoil the movie for anyone who wants to see it...but there's a part about the mom at the end that really threw us for a loop...it's probably not too hard to guess what could have happened to the mom that would upset us so much...but it's not that hard to figure out while you're watching the movie either. Okay, so the mom dies...not only does she die, she dies saving her daughter's life from the evil ghost of another little girl who has been haunting them. We actually handled this part okay. I know I'm totally spoiling the movie for you now, so if you haven't seen it, you can stop reading and come back to my journal after you've seen it. Anyway, the thing that hit the hardest was when it showed the daughter sort of saying goodbye to the apartment she and her mom had shared before her dad takes her away to live with him...she's standing in the doorway looking into the apartment and starts to reminisce about times she spent with her mom reading together, cuddling...tears start rolling down her face. It was absolutely painful to watch. She finally turns around and leaves and gets on the elevator with her dad. When they get to the bottom floor, the elevator doors open and her dad steps off...but the doors shut before the little girl can get off too. She looks up and sees some black water start dripping from the ceiling of the elevator, and she starts to smile...she knows it's her mom coming to tell her goodbye...suddenly you can see the mom's ghost in the elevator there with her daughter. She tells her daughter how much she loves her and that she will always be with her whenever she needs her...this is the part where I broke down crying in the movie theater. Everyone else in the room disappeared and all I could see was the mom comforting her baby and saying goodbye. They embrace and then the elevator doors open...the little girl's hair was down when she got in the elevator...when she steps out, her hair has been put into a ponytail by her mother.

I don't regret seeing the movie...even though I'm crying now as I write this and I bawled in the theater, their relationship was so sweet and so special just like ours...I can't even look at the movie as a horror film like it's intended, although it is a really good example of a horror film in my opinion. But I so focused on the mother's relationship with her little girl that the horror story part was just a background thing for me. It was one of those times that I felt so thankful for being able to experience my mom's love even for the short time we had, but yet so robbed and so angry that she's gone.

I went to the bathroom at the theater to try to pull myself together. I was in there alone sitting in the stall crying my eyes out and I couldn't stop. All of a sudden, there were these white flashes of light kind of swirling all around me...I don't quite know how to explain it. I thought at first I was seeing things because the bathroom stalls were black with irregular white dots on them...I thought maybe because I was crying, the tears and optical illusion-like stall walls were combining to create these things, plus maybe some dust motes. But I stopped crying, tried blinking a few times...it didn't stop. I went out of the stall and checked the other stalls. Nothing. I went back in mine. It was still going. My friend came in the bathroom then and I told her what I was seeing. About that time, another girl came in and chose "my" stall for whatever reason. I wish now that I had asked her if she'd seen anything, but I was still so upset over the movie and so in awe that I had very possibly just seen my mom that I couldn't even think about it. After the girl left, I checked the other stalls again, and then mine...it was still going in my stall but not the others.

I know without a doubt that was my first "sighting" of my mom. I can't even describe how very much it comforted me. I was so sad and aching for her, and she came and comforted me in whatever way she could. Dammit, it's not the same as a hug or kiss. But I guess I'll take what I can get. Even though she can't be here physically the way she was before, how can I doubt that she's still with me. I will never forget this experience.

This image is where I tried my best to draw what I saw:

I was so comforted but yet so depressed...I knew I'd probably be in a funk for a couple of days. Fortunately, it was a Friday night when I saw the movie and I didn't have to go to work the next day. I literally slept all day Saturday and all day Sunday. I woke up now and then to take care of my pets, use the bathroom, or whatever, and I went to a concert Saturday night. But other than that, I slept and I slept. It was like I just couldn't get enough sleep no matter what and my body couldn't fight the need.