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. 

Books & Picture Day

Last night, coming home with Emily, I started to cry.  Emily’s school was doing a book sale – your typical school book sale but on a smaller scale since these are smaller kids with limited book choices.  And Emily picked out three to take home (aka, Mommy got hosed for about 25 bucks); there were two  more she wanted to bring home but I said no, we had enough books.  There was a mini-fit but she was happy in the end with her books on the way home. And it made me cry.  My mom was SUCH a book lover, she would have been beaming to see Emily sit on the little make-shift futon they have set up as a reading corner; she sat there and looked at each page of the books she picked while I either sat next to her and watched or stood and talked to another parent (and watched her out of the corner of my eye).  My mom would be so proud to see Emily love books as much as my sister did when she was her age and as much as my mom did.  I bet my mom would buy her book after book after book….you could never have enough books in her eyes. 

My mom will also miss out on the annual school picture; I gave my parents a framed copy of the one from last year for Christmas and my mom thought it was so pretty. I thought she would be here for a few more of them, to smile at them, brag about them, show them off. I didn't know it then, but now I know how important something as mundane as the annual picture day and having a picture in hand to give to someone means. It brings tears to my eyes knowing that she's missing it. 

How I wish she was here to see this.  How I wish she was here to wrap her arms around Emily to tell her how proud she was of her.  How I wish she was here to sit on the couch and read to her, hear her pick out letters and pictures.  I can remember my mom reading the Wizard of Oz to me; it’s one of the few memories I have like that – I wasn’t read to very often as a child but I can remember many times sitting in the living room with my mom as she sat reading, drinking her big glass of iced tea and smoking (that last part stopped at some point when I was in college and she had a heart attack).

I hope she can hear me, I hope she can see Emily.  I know that I will never know either one of those things, but I can hope for it.  And I hope for it every single day.

I Don't Enjoy Being a Bitch. No, really.

This weekend I was a miserable bitch. I did all that I could to stop – I even went so far as to go into the bathroom, look myself in the eye (in the mirror) and say “stop being such a bitch already, wtf!”.  I seriously did that because I couldn’t stand myself anymore.  I also walked out of a room to breathe and to get myself to calm down because, again, I was being an uber byatch and couldn’t stop.  I don’t really know why.  Well, I guess underneath it all I know why – I have a dead mom and I’m pretty pissed about it, pretty sad about it, pretty upset that I can’t think of the holidays without wanting to cry.  I know how this process goes.  I’ve been down a similar road but still, that history doesn’t help me now.  You’d think I would somehow be able to tap into those memories and get myself grounded by knowing that there are better days and the light at the end of the tunnel is NOT a freight train. But no.  I can’t seem to apply that experience to this, even though that experience sucked too and I know that it gets better but right now, it doesn’t seem to matter.

I can’t stop myself from thinking about her, and that’s making my day-to-day difficult.  I think it’s because I can’t stop thinking about my dad, and how hard the coming months will be for him and how much harder that will make it for me.  I know that I shouldn’t fixate on anything like this – it’s all out of my control and it’s in the future, albeit the not so far off in the distance future.  But it’s hard not to.  It’s hard not to think about what was going on right here, right now, a year ago and what will not be going on right here, right  now in the present.  It’s hard to not think about her because she was a part of my every day, whether I liked it or not.  Especially a year ago, when all we did was argue about stuff like her eating habits and changing Emily’s diaper enough during the day when they watched her and no I didn’t introduce juice yet and no I’m not planning on it, and when are you making that doctor’s appointment and what did you eat for breakfast and lunch today – do you actually think that’s enough food??  But in the end, no amount of food could have saved her.  Who knows, if she did eat more it might have fueled the cancer and it could have spread faster, she wouldn’t have been here for the holidays.  When she was on the feeding tube in the hospital, they were giving her plenty of nutrition but she couldn’t put weight on because of how quickly the cancer was spreading; she would gain some, and then lose it as soon as they backed off of the fluids they were pumping her with.  It was in her bones in that last CT and it hadn’t been there a week before. A week.  19 days before it was just nodules in her lungs.  That last CT showed a huge mass in the front of one of her lungs that wasn’t there just three weeks before.  Three weeks.  It amazes me how fast something so horrible and devastating moves around in your body.

But today is a new day.  And I need to look at it that way.  Yeah I’ve been pretty wretched lately, but that doesn’t mean I have to be horrible today.  Right now, as I type, I don’t feel overly horrible which is an improvement and right now, I’ll take whatever I can get.  And with that, Sarah Bareilles’ “December” comes onto my iPhone…..gee, thanks for making me sad(der) Sarah, awesome timing!! (Quickly reaching out to phone to change song to….Little Black Dress…that’s about a stupid man, so that’s better.)  Must stay focused on the upside of things and not think about the downers – the holidays, her clothes in my house that she never got to wear (which I washed this weekend – fun times), my dad.  Yeah, not going there right now.  As my toddler would say “Momma, NO NO”.  Complete with crossed arms and a foot stomp for good measure.

Get Yourself Together, Woman!

We meet every day at work for a 9ammeeting; leadership gets together and discusses priorities for the day, policy changes, operational challenges, etc.  And here I am, yet again for the umpteenth time this year, trying to get myself together so that I don’t look like I’ve been crying for the past 10 minutes (even though I have been).  When I dropped off Emily at school, most of her friends were already there and playing with the teacher so she immediately put her stuff away and went to play.  When I told her I was leaving she came over and hugged me, and then went back to play.  She saw me walking to the door and she ran over with her arms out, I stooped down so she could kiss me, she said “bye bye” and ran back to play.  I was SO HAPPY to see her so happy, and to see her just walk off independently and be okay without me and to just jump in and play with her friends; I’m not a helicopter mom AT ALL.  I want her to be independent and not need me 24/7.  And to see her do that today was just a wonderful event to see and how I wished in that moment to tell my mom.  I wanted to pick up the phone from the parking lot and tell her all about it.  My mom would be so proud of her; my mom wanted Emily to grow up to be independent and fierce.  My mom, although she didn’t always act this way, wanted me to be independent and not depend on some man for everything.  She was happy that I could pay my bills, keep a roof over my head and food on my table without the help of a man; she never understood why my sister got remarried because to my mom, she didn’t need to.  I think secretly, it was something that she had wanted for herself but was never allowed to.

It broke my heart to walk away from that classroom knowing that my mom wouldn’t hear the excitement and pride in my voice when I told the story of this morning.  It broke my heart to know that she’s not here to be proud of Emily, to hug her and to tell her what a wonderful job she’s doing and that she’s “Grandma’s Girl” – that’s what my mom used to call her.  It breaks my heart over and over to know that she wasn’t here long enough for Emily to remember her and to not only remember who she was but to also remember how much she loved her.