It's Been a Day

Today is just a day.  A day that has been full of mistakes and of things forgotten.  I’ve dropped things, I’ve knocked things over, I’ve forgotten important things at home.  I am preoccupied and distracted.  There are too many things swirling in my brain to really keep anything straight.  My daughter’s safety at school – it’s a few things that are compounding and concerning me, including the child that can’t seem to stop biting others and if he bites my kid again…oh there will be war, for sure.  My father’s health and well-being – that looming surgery is making me more anxious than I care to admit.  My mom.  She’s gone and I keep remembering what it was like this time last year with the fighting, the phone calls, forcing her to go to her cardiologist, her not speaking to me.  It’s hard to push those thoughts to the side.  My job – stressful, unpredictable at this point.  Myself – I’m forgetting more and more things, there is always something that I forget every single day now and I never used to be like this.  I used to be on top of everything, knew every detail, knew where everything was, never lost a thing.  Not anymore.  And I hate it.

I hate that still, the grief isolates me or at least makes me feel isolated.  I know it’s affected my relationship with Rob; thankfully he loves me no matter what and vice versa because if this relationship hadn’t already gone through hell and back a hundred times, I don’t know if this would be a storm we could weather.  This process is hard from this side of the fence, I can only imagine how hard it is to live on the other side of this some days.  Some day’s I’m just fine but others I am quite the opposite – I have a short fuse and I have a horrible attitude – and still, it continues on.  I don’t know when this part will end – the part where I’m sad, angry, lonely, desperate for understanding why this all happened the way that it did, guilty to some extent, sad.  I hope to find the light at the tunnel soon, although I know it won’t be reached before the holidays are over; if anything, the holidays have pushed me back in the proverbial tunnel and I have a further way to go to reach the light now.  And I guess part blessing, part curse is that her passing happened right after the holidays so I don’t have long to wait to go through that emotional turmoil, either.  I get to do it all in one shot.  Lucky me.

Wanting to Run

Did you ever think, just for a moment, of just getting out?  Driving away from it all, leaving all of it behind and the freedom that you would gain from walking away?  I’m sure all of us have had an opportunity at some point along the way.  I had one this weekend.  Rob and Emily were playing outside a store; he had waited on-line inside, I took her outside to play and when he came out into the cold and blustery weather he said “why don’t you get the car and when you drive around, we’ll get in”.  So I went to get the car; got in, started it up, and sat for a moment in the silence.  I was alone.  It was the first time in almost a week, and I liked it.  I thought about what it would be like to turn right instead of left.  Rob could call someone to pick them up, a cab even.  I could stop home, transfer the money from my vacation account into my checking account and drive to the airport before anyone could find me.  I could get on a plane to California, or London, and that would be it.  My life would be my own again, my decisions would be mine, I wouldn’t have to worry about this little person anymore or my dad.  I wouldn’t have to worry about losing my dad anymore because he wouldn’t exist in this new life.  See, in this new life, I would be a new person with no family and no history.  No one to care about, no one to worry about. And for a brief moment, it sounded like bliss.  But then, I thought of her little smiling face and the amazing hugs and kisses she gives me every day.  And I thought about how losing me would kill my dad.  And I thought about how hard it would be for Rob to raise her alone – if something happened to him, what would happen to her without me? 

So I turned left.  I turned left and I unlocked the doors so my family could come in.  And I was happy that they were there with me – for all the crazy yelling of my name from the backseat that seemed to not end for hours, for all of the wild thoughts in my head about my dad’s impending surgery, for all of the craziness that my significant other puts me through some times, I was happy they were there and most importantly, I was happy I was there. 

Thanks, Mom and/or Universe

To say that it was divine intervention or just pure coincidence, doesn’t matter, my vacation was absolutely perfect from beginning to end.  It was odd how perfect it was.

I got off the Turnpike, looking for the parking lot and voila it was right in front of me. I thought I would end up lost in Elizabeth (again) but I wasn’t!!  I got to the airport early, the flight – although bumpy – was uneventful and my luggage made its way to my hotel. The young woman that checked me in at the hotel was named Emily, just like my daughter and she was just lovely to talk to.  And then I got to our room.  Oh our room.  It was exactly what I had hoped for.  A full balcony, and a full view of the theme park next door and the nightly fireworks (and we could hear all of the corresponding music too).  I walked the resort – which was beyond amazing and peaceful, got free ice cream because of my “happy birthday” pin.  I soaked up the solitude and happiness.  We went to the parks, we ate, we drank, we met lovely people.  Our meals were great, the company was great, I was relaxed 100% for the first time in at least a year if not more.  It was phenomenal.

I found a toy sword behind the curtains to the balcony, as I was searching for a light switch to turn out the outside light (I never did find that switch).  It was propped up in the corner and was a pirate’s sword.  My daughter LOVES Jake and the Never land Pirates.  LOVES THEM.  And here was this sword, just sitting in the corner as if it was left there on purpose for me to discover.

At least once, as I walked the resort alone one night, I felt like maybe my mom was with me and had something to do with how perfect this vacation was.  I thanked her, and I think I thanked the universe just in case, because this was my birthday re-do; my actual birthday was horrible and hellish so this was a chance to actually celebrate and be happy.  And I was.  And for some reason, somewhere inside, I felt like it was her somehow manipulating things and putting me in the right place at the right time so that I would have a good time and not think of anything but where we were getting our next meal or our next cocktail.  Last year was so stressful at this time; if you’ve ever had a parent or loved one start to get mysteriously ill and have pain that can’t be explained away easily, you know what I’m talking about.  My life changed, and continued to change until she was no longer here and I know that I won’t ever be the same again; my life will never go back to the ‘normal’ that it once was.  Every day for the past year or so I have been stressed on some level – not that I am no longer stressed at all, I think I would also have to depart this life in order for that to happen – but every day has included some worry about someone’s health or well-being.  But for those brief 5 days, I was worry and stress-free and it was glorious.

So again today, I say thank you to my mom, where ever she may be.  I hope that it was her that made it as perfect as it could be, so that in some way I had a happy birthday.  If it was her, she did a great job and I hope she knows how happy I was and how relaxed I was (for once) and I hope she knows how grateful I am for it.  I think I needed that rest and relaxation more so than I realized and even today, I am happier for that blissful stress-free time away.  And if it wasn’t her, well, let’s just say it was her and leave it at that.  Makes me feel better that way.

Monty Python was right but still....

“Always look on the bright side of life” is the title and a line from one of the best Monty Python songs ever made.  And on a day like today, I think I should try to sing it on repeat all day long.  I woke up grumpy, for a number of reasons – many of which are in my head, but regardless of what they are I am grumpy and I really do need to stop.

I can’t stop thinking about the holidays and how much I wish she was here.  This morning I thought how amazing it would be if, at some point on Thanksgiving, I walked into the kitchen and saw her standing at the stove and she turned around and said “hi sweetheart” like she always did.  What I would give for that to happen just one more time.  it’s amazing how, little moments like that, mean so much when that other person is gone. I would give anything to see her in that kitchen again, even if she was cursing at me for getting in her way.  Back then, when she was “okay” and she did stuff like that, it pissed me off – although I will admit that sometimes, her frustration was pretty funny and my dad would joke about it behind her back (where she couldn’t see or hear him).  But now, it would make me smile no matter what.  I would give anything to hear her bitch about all the work she does for Thanksgiving or Christmas and how no one helps her – even though we offered every year and last year was the only time she took us up on it.  I would give anything to hear her complain about the pot that ‘danced’ on the stove when it got hot.  I would give anything to hear her voice again, to see her again.  And I don’t know how to stop thinking about it.

I know that this will get easier; next year will be easier than this year – assuming of course that I still have my dad at the holidays next year (something else I think about probably too much than I should).  But it’s hard to focus on what’s to come that’s positive because all I feel is sad when I think about her, the holidays, etc. I don’t feel hopeful; it’s hard to feel hopeful when someone has died.  What do you hope for??  Happiness for yourself seems selfish, especially in my situation given what happened to my mom.  I know that I have to be strong for my dad, at least on the outside; it’s a skill I’ve mastered at this point in my life.  I’ve done this so many times I can do it without thinking, the switch just turns on and I look like I’m handling the weight of the world without breaking a sweat.  It’s when I get in my car that I fall apart; it’s when I’m alone and can feel for myself that I lose it.