The tie that binds...

Did I ever tell you that I hate, HATE cancer!!!! My friend's mom died early this morning of breast cancer and I am so sad for her. When I found out that my mom was diagnosed with this dreaded disease, I actually turned to this friend for comfort. She had gone through the horrible process of digesting the news about her mom and we kind of bonded over the experience of our moms being sick. That's sounds awful saying, but people don't totally understand unless they have gone through it, the process of losing a parent...and especially one that you are very close to. Watching and listening to my friend go through the motions of letting her mom go, has triggered some sad memories. The waiting is the hardest part. Telling your mom "It's okay. I'll be alright. You don't have to fight anymore. Go be with God." I held my mom's hand as she drew her last breath and smiled. Gosh, it's hard.

Anyways, my friend is also in the midst of planning her wedding. This situation made me think of my own relationship with my husband. Thank goodness I had him to support me through all the madness. We were married such a short a time before my mom got sick, that I even told him the other night that I don't even remember a normal night,beforehand, of us just being happy and going to bed without any worries. We've had a lot of drama during our almost three years of marriage. I'm so glad that my friend will have a support system like I did. Someone to just hold her and let her cry. I'm glad her mom knows that she will be taken care of.

It's just a flip flop

I have a new 9 week year old puppy. My husband and I named him Henri (with an "i"), but his name was actually inspired by King Henry. I've actually been reading a lot about English History, so the name just came to me instantly. The spelling we chose just seemed more "puppy-like." We thought we had been doing really well crate training him. He's been a good dog, more than a bad dog, doing his business, but today we had to get a little strict. We had to put him in time-out twice in the bathroom. Once for doing #2 in the corner of the living room and then also for destroying my most favorite flip flop. I know, I know, puppies tear up things and we all know that dogs love to bite on shoes. It's my fault for leaving them out, but it was out of shear laziness because I need quick shoes to let him out all the time. But these flip flops are special. I got those flip flops on one of the last shopping trips my mom and I ever took together. I remember her every time I slip them on because she wanted to buy the matching purse, but thought it was crazy because she knew she had medical bills. I tried urging her to buy it because if it made her feel good...why not? If you have to put yourself through chemotherapy, you deserve a break. Note to self...they are only flip flops, but it just made me miss her today. I admit I shed a small tear, and then went and hugged my puppy. Henri is still a cool pup.

Sweet Dreams

A while back ago I wrote an entry talking about wanting some kind of sign from my mom that she's doing okay up there in heaven. Yesterday, when I was talking to my best friend on the phone and she told me about this dream she had. She swears that she never dreams of people that have died, but one night that changed. She said that she ran into my mom during a dream and just in passing they had a brief simple conversation like as follows:
-"Hey Mrs. Wormer"
-"Hey Dana!"
-"How are you doing?"
-"Dana, I'm doing just fine!"

Maybe, I'm reading into this WAY TOO MUCH, but either way it makes me feel good. Sign or no sign, I'm glad that my mom was special enough to appear in my friend's dreams.

Little Surprise Stories

I am used to hearing great stories about my mom through some of her close personal friends, but today I was told an unexpected story which made me smile from someone I barely know. While I am inbetween jobs, I am doing some substitute teaching. I oddly found myself helping out the band class at the local middle school. She told me how my mom found out that the school district was down-sizing and they were planning on eliminating her position (she didn't have tenure yet). Mom immediately called the school board and made such a fuss that she saved her job. She even went to the Head of the School Board's house. Geez, my mom could be a pistol when she needed to be. I absolutely love hearing little things like that. Not that it was ever a doubt, but it just makes me feel good that my mom made such a big difference in other people's lives and they continue to remember her and are grateful. It's wonderful that seventeen years later she still has her job too.

Things you don't say...

So, occasionally I work out with two other women at my gym. Well, one of them lost her brother recently after a four year battle with lung cancer. Someone pointed out that my mom died of the same thing, but her death was pretty quick (she was diagnosed in February and passed away by August). You understand that people really don't know what to say and everyone has a different viewpoint on the matter, but NEVER, does it make you feel good when someone's reaction is "Thank God!" Yeah, thank God she's not suffering anymore...but NO! It doesn't make it any easier to accept. Hint, hint, it doesn't make the grieving process any better. We as humans are selfish and want that person here with us. How could she say that to me today? I'm really to try to keep it in perspective that she was just in a crazy place. She doesn't know the battles we fought and the hope that we had. I bought a fun coffee table book called I Like You by Amy Sedaris Hospitality under the Influence. In one section she goes into detail on how to treat grieving friends and family. I'm going to include a few of her suggestions, in case you ever find yourself in that awkward place.

Inappropriate things to say:
1.He's better off now.
2.Only the good die young.
3.Was he drinking?
4.Did she smoke?
5.Where were you when it happened?
6.I know exactly what you are going through...

Some appropriate things to say:
1.My sympathy to you
2.He will be missed.
3.He had a lot of friends
4.She lived a good life.


The woman today managed in a matter of 45 seconds to say at least three of the inappropriate things and zero appropriate and I managed to break down crying in the middle of my workout. What a way to start off the day.

Paint, Sweat and Tears

When my mom got sick, my brother was just about to sign a lease to have his own place in Nashville. He decided to forego his plans and stay at home to help the family out. When my mom died, he stayed in the house for awhile, but then put money down on a new condo last fall. He finally closed on it last week and we spent the whole weekend painting. Now, if you knew my mom, she was all about shopping and decorating. She would be so into this project. I know that my brother must feel sad, because I know that he would look to her opinion on many, many things. I can't help but want to fill that void. I had a gift card to Walmart and decided that I would use it to buy him the boring necessities such as laundry detergent, mops, sponges. It's stuff you gotta have and adds up quickly, but you don't want to buy. So, it was an easy decision to use my gift card on that. Mom would make sure he had the cleaning supplies, right?

So, we spent the whole weekend painting and it looks really good. It allowed us to have some quality bonding time, which was really nice and needed on my part. There was one point where I did shed a tear or two in the corner while working on the trim. I wish she could see this. She would be so proud and excited.

Just give me a sign...

I tried to make it a weekend that was so busy celebrating, that I wouldn't have time to think about it being sad. Today was my 30th birthday and I would love to say that it was great, but in all honesty, it was one of the hardest days I've had in awhile. From the moment I woke up this morning until around 3:30 this afternoon I couldn't stop crying, and I mean the "hurts to breathe" sobbing. While my husband was out running quick errands and making preparations for celebrating later at my dad's house, I snuck out and went to the cemetary. I hate going there, but I had to go. There's always a connection between a mother and a child on their birthday and unfortunately our birthday visits will be there from now on. I could hear my mom saying her "Well, I know where I was 30 years ago...." speech in my head.

So, today's visit was...well, just different. I always get there and I always think I will know what to say. I get out of the car and then my mind just goes blank. I have no clue. I tidy up her spot, sometimes change the flowers out and of say my "I Love You's" and then I can't get out of there fast enough. But today, it started out the same and then somehow it just worked it's way to me begging my mom and God for some sign. I miss her so much and I wanted just some guarantee that she's doing okay up there. I wanted to know that she's happy and that she misses me as much as I miss her. Of course in our hearts deep down we know the answer, but I just wanted some reassurance, you know? When I was pleading for an answer back, I was wanting that movie moment. Like when you all of a sudden feel a calm breeze take over... or the clouds part and the sun breaks through and you say "Thank you! That's the answer I needed." Well, I didn't get it. In fact, I think I drove away disappointed, mad and crying even more because I didn't get what I wanted. I was, in fact, being a baby on my 30th birthday.

Well, later on I think I got my answer. Throughout the rest of the afternoon and evening, I managed to wipe away a tear or two secretly. I really didn't want anybody to feel sorry for me or to put a damper on the celebration people were trying to make nice for me. But deep down, I still had a broken heart. Well, maybe I wasn't doing a good job at hiding my sadness or maybe it was just a coincidence, but my brother and I were in the kitchen alone and he pulled me aside, out of the blue, and just gave me a hard hug and didn't let go. Ah, there's mom. There's my sign. After that, my birthday was just fine.