December 7, 2012

There are a lot of things that get put into a different perspective after a close loved one dies.  Or, at least this is true for me with the death of my mom.  I pulled out my many different bins of Christmas decorations (as far as I'm concerned, you can't have too many), and one of them fell victim to mold.  I'm guessing one of the dish towels I wrapped a fragile item in wasn't fully dry when I packed it all away after last Christmas.  If my mom was still alive, this would've been a lot more upsetting.  It still sucks - there were things in there I really liked and would rather not have to throw away, but I'm fully aware of it not being the worst thing that could happen to me.  It's just stuff, and luckily, none of it is heirloom items passed down from my mom or grandmother or aunt, or other relative that has died, making it a bit easier to let it go.  In this time of upheaval where I'm hearing from a number of loved ones about much more serious personal or health issues, a bin of moldy decorations is nothing to complain about.  If that was the worst thing to happen in my life, it'd be a pretty charmed life.

November 17, 2012

So here I am, technically on the day after my mom's birthday.   I'm finding the day snuck up on me.  I at first barely realized it was coming, and then I slowly realized my mom would've been 70 today.  And that makes me sad. I went to lunch with my dad to celebrate my mom, and that was all good - we chatted about whatever came up and had some nice Mom memories, but then I saw an older lady being escorted into the restaurant by a younger lady and I thought about how my mom could never reach that point of needing help - she died too young.  And then the other thoughts would creep in - when I had a vitamin, I remembered thinking back to the first time I needed to buy a new bottle after my mom died.  The last time I had bought a bottle, my mom was alive and responsive.  

There are a lot of things that get measured in, "when I last bought this they were alive..."  Things like vitamins, I can't help but think of her when  I take them.

July 18, 2012

It's funny the things that trigger the loss of my mom sometimes.  I recently bought a bunch of marigolds to plant in my garden because my daughter really wanted them.  She doesn't know it, but marigolds always remind me of my mom because she used to buy them every year from the local greenhouse.  Shortly before she died, I asked her if it was because they were her favorite flower.  She said no, it was because they were hearty.  It just makes me laugh & smirk whenever I look at them now.  All those years, and I never knew til the very end.

There are other times when thoughts of her just pop up with no prompting, too.  The other night, while I was trying to go to sleep, I thought again of that first night she came home into hospice care and I couldn't stop crying that day to save my soul.  I went back to that moment when I was in the room with her and I thought she was asleep, only for her to look at me and tell me to stop crying.  I started all over again just thinking about it.  It's a strange thing going through those last days of someone's life and then the whole wake & funeral process.

Mother's Day was another interesting day.  I hadn't been to my mom's grave in awhile - I don't like that close to where she's buried and with two young children to take care of, and only one in school full day, I don't have a lot of time to run back and forth (they could and have come with me, but there are days I just want to go by myself - those are the ones harder to schedule).  I had a very nice Mother's Day and it was a much easier one than last year's when it was our first without her.  But I had a very strong pull to go to the cemetery.  On the way there, I stopped by a roadside mini-greenhouse and looked for some yellow roses to bring with me (turns out that's what Mom's actual favorite flower was).  They didn't have any, so I kept looking for something else I recognized and would do well in a place like that.  The man that worked there very kindly helped me out and I got something I'd never heard of but was pretty.  I figured if Mom didn't like it, she'd find a way to get a strong wind to knock it over, but I liked it.  And then the tears started coming off and on again.

After my cemetery visit, I started thinking about my aunt, the one that had died from cancer shortly before my mom.  And that got me thinking about my grandparents & my uncle - almost all of them also lost to cancer.  So I stopped at the church where their names are etched in stone at the memorial garden and I let out more loss there.  In many ways, this year has been more about feeling the loss of my aunt than my mother.  I think last year was so much about Mom I didn't have room to grieve my aunt.  This year, with the loss of my mom more coming in waves here and there, I've noticed & felt my aunt's absence more.

There are people with worse losses than mine.  I'm very aware of that.  I'm very grateful for what I had, but I still think you're always too young to lose your mother.

March 6, 2012

So I had a moment today where I wanted to just throw a tantrum and let the universe & whoever else wanted to listen that it's unfair.  My daughter was dancing around in her dress & singing a song she made up and I had one of those moments where I thought, "Wouldn't Mom love to see this?".  That moment was quickly followed by, "Well she can't really, she's dead."  But then there's that other voice that pops up and reminds me how lucky I am.  Other people have it worse, and I am blessed to have had the time I did have.  There's always someone who has it worse.

And while it's generally easier for me to cope with the loss of my mom, there's still kind of a stamp on me as someone who has lost their mom.  My son had a playdate recently and when the dad camp to pick up his friend, we started talking.  As the conversation turned to this & that, he at one point mentioned how he didn't know how his wife would cope with the loss of one of her parents because she's so close to them.  We don't know each other well, but he knows my mom died not that long ago, and there was that quick look of someone who's realized what they said and to whom, and the conversation quickly turned again.  For me, it was kind of amusing - I don't begrudge anyone that still has both their parents, especially when they have a good relationship with them.  But it's still that kind of mark where I'm branded as someone who's missing a parent. 

When my mom had first died, I was very frustrated knowing that people were asking my husband and my close friends how I was doing.  I knew that as soon as I left a room, people were asking how I was holding up, or how Mom's death was affecting me.  And again, it was that weird place of seeing both sides of the coin - I knew that it all came from a good, loving place, but I wanted people to be able to talk to ME about it.  It is what it is, and while it sucks and I'd change it if I could, I can talk about it.  It's easier to talk with someone else who's been in a similar place just because they understand it more, but I can talk about it and I don't mind being asked - even if I get a bit teary eyed.  Maybe they'll even help me more by asking since I do still have some of that Irish tendency to just stuff it down and not talk about it.

January 27, 2011

About a week ago, I found out via Facebook that a woman I went to high school with lost her 5 year old soon to cancer.  I just stared at my computer and started to cry.  My kids came into the room and started to ask me their usual questions, so I wiped away my tears and got back to daily life, but there's been a bit of sadness hanging around me since then.  Obviously, it reminded me of the loss of my mother, but it was also that reminder that there are even worse losses.  At least my mom got to live long enough to be a grandmother and to know all of her grandchildren.  Parents aren't supposed to lose their kids.  At least my loss happened in the order it's supposed to happen.  As much as other people with living parents can't fully understand my loss, I know I can't fully understand this woman's.  I hope she & her family find the support & love they need to work through this and to be able to still enjoy the rest of their life.  My heart goes out to them.

There were a lot of facebook postings reminding everyone to hug & kiss their kids whenever they can.  I've always covered my kids with kisses, even when they don't want it, but these postings got me to thinking.  I don't know if I do it because it's just who I am, or because my mom was diagnosed when I was pregnant with my firstborn.  I've never been a mom without knowing that death can come at anytime.  We had 6 years with my mom's illness to make sure we always said, "I love you" and to hug & kiss (although, with Mom being Irish, she wasn't so big on the hugs & kisses - but again, I gave them anyway).  I think her cancer does make me hold my kids more, and I guess that's a silver lining.  I don't live a day where I forget to kiss them or tell them I love them.  Of course, I'd still prefer to have learned that lesson the easy way.  But I'm slowly accepting that there really are things I can't change or stomp my feet and demand to have back.  It still sucks, though.

January 7, 2012

So here I am on the other side of my second big holiday season without my mom.  It was very different from my first in many ways.  Right up until a few days before Christmas, I was feeling like my usual pre-holiday self.  Then, I went to my son's school on the last day before vacation.  It was a great visit and all was still very festive until I went back to my car to drive home.  Bing Crosby's "White Christmas" was playing on the radio and I started to cry.  But the difference was that this time I was feeling the loss of other family members, most especially my aunt that died last year and my grandmother.  Music was such a big theme for my loss this year.  I have memories of both of those women women singing throughout my childhood.  And although my grandmother died years ago, I just felt her loss more deeply again this year.  I think my aunt's death didn't affect me as much last year because my mom died shortly after her, so all my energy went into first, doing what I could to help my mom to keep fighting her cancer battle, and then, when that was no longer a possibility, to deal with the process of her dying, and then her death. 

Now that I feel more whole again, I think I was able to let the aftershocks of my aunt's death hit me, and then the loss of other family members came again as well.  Not to say that I didn't miss my mom this year, because I did, it was just different.  I still wore one of her old shirts as I wrapped presents on Christmas Eve and I still felt the need to sit down and watch her memorial DVD.  But this time, it was more comforting and more of a happy thing rather than something to make me cry.  It made me feel more peaceful. 

But there were little things that made me feel the other losses.  My sister mentioned something she needed sewn and my first response was to tell her to ask her aunt.  Then, it was like that little sucker punch remembering she was dead.  I remembered temporarily forgotten visits with my grandmother when I was first starting to date my husband.  She always really loved him, and I was just starting to get to know her as a young adult, and she was gone.  I'm in my late 30s and so fortunate in so many ways, but these losses still hurt.

So the grumpiness set in a little bit, but that was different, too.  I was able this time to take some deep breaths and let the sadness come in and come out.  But for the first time in many years, I was ready just after Christmas to take the decorations down and be done with the holiday season.  Usually, I'm very happy to leave my tree up at least until after New Year's.  I miss them all.