Coincidental Music

This morning on my way to school/work, I heard a Stone Temple Pilots song, a Rick Astley song, and then a Third Eye Blind song oh and a Goo Goo Dolls song.  STP was one of Donna’s favorite groups; my mom loved Rick, TEB was a band we listened to in college and at the bar after we graduated, and the Goo’s song was one that reminded me of a friend that was killed in a motorcycle accident almost 19 years ago.  I know that there is a very high probability that this was all just coincidence and it means nothing, but deep inside me I feel like it wasn’t.  I feel like it meant something; what, I’m not sure.  Maybe it means that they have all met, they have hung out and they are all okay.  When Donna died, I hoped that she would meet up with Billy who was young and cute and fun and smart and a tiny bit edgy – she would have liked him.  And when my mom died, I hoped that Donna would find her and help her, show her the ropes (per se) and hang out with her and introduce her to her mom –I think her mom and my mom would have gotten along.  So maybe that’s what this morning was….some message from beyond to say ‘we’re together, we’ve all met, and we’re all okay’.  I hope that’s what it was.  I hope and pray that they are all okay, where ever they may be and they have met.  Each of them was pretty cool in their own way and my mom loved Donna, she would be happy to see her and I hope she’s filled her in on everything that’s happened since she left us 5 years ago.  Or I at least hope they’ve had a good laugh over the things that she’s watched from a far for the past 5 years…there have been some doosies…..

I miss each of them very much, even though I don’t think of Billy every day.  Although at this time of year, as the anniversary of his so very untimely death approaches, I think of him more and more.  And as the holidays approach, I think of my mom and of Donna and her mom more and more – if that’s possible – because they won’t be the same this year; they will never be the same again.  Today I will do my best to not cry in my office, but my best may not be good enough.  There are too many people gone, there are too many people missing this wonderful thing we call life.  Just too many.

13 years/8 months

Today is a particularly hard day, for so many reasons.  13 years ago, thousands of people died as I watched it all unfold on my tv.  I still remember seeing the first images of the Towers with smoke rising around them and thinking “why are they showing this….that bomb went off years ago” and not knowing that it was new, it wasn’t a bomb, I knew people in those buildings who would not make it out.  Today, I remember them with sadness and I remember who we were as a country at that time. We were together, united, we were there for one another. Here in NJ, there was kindness all around; you didn’t know if the person in front of you at the red light or in line at the store had lost someone or was waiting to find someone.  There are still some that are lost who will never be found; my cousin’s husband and his brother worked for Cantor Fitzgerald, they were not found.

And today marks 8 months since my mom passed away.  8, in this sense, seems like such a large number.  8.  It’s close to 10, closer to 12 than 7 or 6.  As the days and weeks move forward quickly, I am forced to come to terms with the fact that the holidays will soon be here.  Halloween means another costume and cute pictures of her one and only grandchild.  Thanksgiving means that we’ll try to recreate her meal without her help this time. And Christmas.  I don’t really know what to say about that day.  I knew that she would not be here for this one, but it doesn’t make it any less difficult to think of celebrating without her.

Today, I remember everyone that is gone, not just from 9/11, not just from 1/11, but anyone I’ve known and cared about who is gone.  They are all missed, I have memories of them all, and I hope to see them all again.

A Small Improvement is Still an Improvement

Today is an improvement – I don’t feel as sad or as isolated as I did yesterday, which is good.  This roller coaster sucks.  I hate, really truly hate, that I never know how I’m going to be day to day anymore and honestly, I’m not entirely sure if I ever will.  There is always, ALWAYS, something that makes me think about my mom. Whether it’s things like yesterday, having a coworker come back after losing her father and that making me remember what that first day back was like, or driving past the hospital sign, or thinking about Halloween and how my mom loved picking out Emily’s first Halloween costume (although I am fairly sure it was all my dad’s doing), there is always something and there are days that just one thought tosses me back to those early days and all I want to do is cry in front of her ‘drawer’ at the cemetery.

Last night, as I sat on the floor with our new kitties, I thought “my mom would love you guys” and I got a little choked up.  It’s sad, but true.  They’re cute, fun, have the softest fur ever known to be on a kitty, and they are sticking adorable if I do say so myself.  Let alone all the stuff that Emily is doing or saying now that would crack up my mom to no end (if she could hear it, of course).  It’s sad remembering or realizing that she’s not here to share in this with us, with me.  And as Emily grows up and becomes more of a little girl or a young woman, I will continue to have the same thoughts and feelings.  I knew my parents wouldn’t see her graduate from college, but I hoped they would both be here to see her graduate from pre-school and kindergarten.  I know it’s important to remember the good times (even if there weren’t many) and I know it’s important to try to focus on the fact that she was here long enough to get to know Emily, see her, watch her grow even if it was only for 18 months.  I know it’s important to focus on the good, and not the bad; it’s sometimes not an easy task to accomplish, though.  I remember those last days, even before she went into the hospital and those were not fun-filled days.  Having to convince her to go into the hospital, having to deal with her hating me for making her go to the doctor, my sister fighting with my dad to make the CT appointment for my mom, sitting in the chair and talking to her doctor, sitting in this chair and talking to him again.  It’s hard to not think of those and to not think of everything that came before it.  I do hope that it gets easier to focus on everything else instead of this stuff.  This stuff sucks.

Grieving by Association

Today, my co-worker came back in after her bereavement for the death of her father.  As a management team, we all meet daily at 9am; I ran into her after the meeting was over and she was crying – she said she didn’t think she would be so overwhelmed today.  All I could say is “the first day back sucks”.  What else could I say?  I don’t think “the next three to six months are going to be just like this, so get used to it” would have been helpful.  Or how about “if it makes you feel any better, my mom will be gone 8 months this week and standing here talking to you makes me want to cry like it happened last week”?  Yeah, probably not a good idea too, even though it’s the truth.

Even now, 8 months later, I feel like it’s my first day back.  I remember how I felt sitting in that meeting, sitting at this desk, walking these halls thinking “please God, don’t let anyone ask how I am”, and then feeling grateful when someone did.  And the more I talk to people the more I learn that what I feel today will never go away.  There will always be times that I feel like I want to cry my eyes out because in my world, it feels like she just died.  I feel like I just stood by her casket in the middle of the church, rubbed it gently with my hand, and cried in front of all of our family and friends.  That’s how I feel today.

Disappearing Self

I have sacrificed a lot this year to make myself ‘work’, for lack of a better word.  I’ve sucked it up more times than I can count, went to work, got out of bed, took care of my daughter instead of just focusing on myself.  I’ve stayed at home while he went to see his children, while he went on a very long vacation with one of them.  I’ve done things I didn’t want to do, including telling my father things that I never wanted to say out loud but had no choice at the time.  I’ve put my fears aside and faced things that no one should; I told a nurse to start the process of allowing my  mother to die.  No child should have to do that.  I’ve been the rock that I’ve always been in the face of insanity and uncertainty.  I haven’t gone to the cemetery when I’ve wanted to, so that I can spend time with my family.  I haven’t run away all of the times that I wanted to – and if I had, I don’t know if I would be back by now.  I’ve put my own needs to the side because that’s just what I do.  Everyone else is more important, what everyone else wants and needs is more important.  And now, based upon a recent conversation, I’m being asked to support my partner first, as if I don’t already do that every day.  As if I make a decision to do it.  As if I put myself first regularly.  And the few times that I have, well, I don’t remember when I have.  Even when my mother died, I put my child’s needs before mine – she was sick the day my mom died and I came home right from the hospital to be with her, to comfort her, instead of just driving around in silence and shock which is what I wanted to do.  I take care of everyone else around me before I take care of me, and now, its being insinuated that that’s not the case.  How can I put myself any further back on the burner?  Should I just allow him to run rampant, make whatever decisions he wants about anything and everything and not say a word?  Should I just work, take care of our child, and not have an opinion on anything else so that he feels that he is my priority more so than he is already. At what point will I lose myself entirely?  I’d like to know that so I’m prepared for that moment and I know what to expect.

Why Am I Crying??

It’s one of those days when I’m crying and I don’t really know why.  Oh the fun.  This morning I was listening to a cd one of my friends made for me and a U2 song came on…that was Donna’s favorite band, she died 5 years ago.  So the music started and I started to cry.  Then the duet that Robert Downey, Jr and Sting did on Every Breath You Take came on and, again, on came the tears.  I have no idea why.  I’m such an emotional wreck today and I don’t really know why.  There’s a part of me that is very happy – my relationship is in a good place, my daughter is doing GREAT in school, my dad is doing okay right now, we’re adopting cats this weekend, all is well in that part. And then there’s that other part.  The other part that just makes me sad, the part that’s disappointed over so much that I can’t change, the part that is just so sad, that’s the part that makes me want to curl up on the couch with a box of donuts, fashion magazines, Arrow on the TV (good LORD he is hot), and a fuzzy blanket. Alone.  So I can cry if I want, I can be mad if I want, I can just be.  That part of me, on days like today, is very loud in my head and yells “go the F home already”.  Even on days like today when I can’t.  I have too much to do, a class to teach, and not enough vacation time to use any way.

How do you go through your day, your life, when all you want to do is be on your couch alone with some donuts?  I can’t even pretend that’s where I am….so I can’t take a mental vacation, that’s for sure.  Ugh.  I really want those donuts right now, too.

Suck It

Today is what I would like to call ‘shiteshow Tuesday', for a number of reasons.  I think I’ll make a bulleted list…

·         Last night, Emily was a BEAST.  Cried and screamed for 45 minutes in bed before finally passing out.  Thankfully she wasn’t horrible when I went in to wake her up this morning but man, it was hard to let go of the anger and disappointment I had left over from yesterday. Yesterday was really, really hard and I yelled at her once – only once which is surprising given how many times I had to walk away from her mid-tantrum, how many times I had to stop myself to breath so I wouldn’t yell. 

·         I have a bag of my mom’s clothes from Christmas in my house now.  My dad brought it over, thinking I could use some of it or I could just donate it.  I walked past it for the last few days, just glancing at it and trying to pretend it isn’t there – knowing that I at least have to move it, but this morning after my shower it just took over and I started to cry.  I have her stuff, and I don’t have her and it sucks.  I hate this so much.  I miss her, I have no idea if she’s okay, if she’s in heaven or somewhere else, if there even is an after this kind of existence, and I just feel empty today.  She is missing out on so much, and it sucks.

·         My computer wasn’t working when I got here, which meant I couldn’t start doing my prep for a class I have to teach tomorrow.

·         It was fixed but now that I go into the database I see that I don’t have everything that I need.

·         A plan that I wrote was rejected, again, by my executive director for – what I think (and my boss thinks) – really stupid reasons. Seriously, some of this information has appeared in prior plans and NOW she doesn’t like it.   UGH.

·         I don’t have lunch so I am more than just very tempted to have ice cream for lunch because really, why not at this point.

·         I can’t seem to make any headway with prepping because the test system keeps locking up on me.

·         I really wish I could restart this day, stay home, and not be so frustrated.

·         It’s 1:30 and I feel like I have accomplished nothing today – except for flirting via text with my significant other, which is a bonus since things have been a little weird between us lately so I guess I accomplished something…..