Another Christmas...

I know, I haven't written on here in a really long time. In fact, it's been about a year. I think I've been avoiding it. A lot has been going on since the last time I posted, but I think about this blog a lot. I think about writing on here and keeping up with my thoughts and this outlet for my grief. Sometimes it's just too hard. But I also want to share with other people, because I don't know who reads this out there, but it might be helpful to someone (letting them know that other people out there are experiencing sadness.)

Last year at this time, I was pregnant and dealing with the emotions of not having my mom around to share the news with. Now, a year later, I'm dealing with my mom not being around for my baby's first Christmas. Wow, she'd be all over it! I can't even imagine how many presents would be under the tree for him. I probably wouldn't even get to hold him much that day either. She would have been a great grandma.

Her birthday rolled around this past Sunday and we tried to go place flowers on her headstone...but they were actually burying somebody next to her, so they had it all covered up. Therefore, we finally went back today and put the flowers in the vase. I hate going there. I regret that I don't go over there more often, considering the cemetery is right across the street from my local grocery store and Target that I visit frequently. It's just hard to make that left hand turn instead of the right.

Did mention that my son has my mom's eyes. I couldn't have asked for a better blessing. The are the exact same color and shape and when I look into his eyes, I definitely see her. I love how they are connected that way. So, that's it for now. My own eyes tear up as I type this out, but wanted to wish you all out there a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

It's a hard Christmas!

This holiday season is hard. I thought real progress was being made this year. I finally decorated, which is a big step. (My mom and I shopped together for all my Christmas decorations the first year I was in my house, so many memories are attached to everything.) Also, her birthday falls on the 20th. I thought I was getting through things okay, but then last night, on Christmas Day, it hit me like a ton of bricks on the drive home from my dad's. My poor husband had to hold me as I cried for about an hour, before I fell asleep. I think it was the anticipation of one of the gifts I got from my brother. He started transferring home movies to DVD's for us and we received the first disc yesterday. I knew I had been longing to hear my mom's voice. I hadn't heard it for years and now the opportunity was laying before me. Sometimes you think you forget what they sound like, but then it's also so familiar. Also, there's the body movement and oh, how we can take this for granted. I have stared at pictures of my mom, but there is just something about seeing a smile in action...seeing what provokes it and the laughter that comes with it.

This year, I guess I am a little more sensitive because Skye and I have such big news. We are expecting a baby and during this time, when I am so excited, it is also so bittersweet. My mom isn't here to share in the excitement and to hold my hand through this process. When my mom was in hospice, I actually knew that this day would come. I actually tried preparing myself for this by buying some baby books and traced her hand on the inside. Somehow, that made me feel like she would some day, some how, be a part of things. She had no idea, what I was doing when I was penciling around her fragile hands due to all the pain killers she was on her final days. People ask me if I want a boy or a girl. In the long run, it doesn't matter. I think right now, though, my heart yearns for a girl. I think mostly because I want to carry on the mother daughter relationship somehow, since I can't do it with her. I want to show a daughter all the loving the things my mom did for me...dance lessons, gymnastics, shopping, lunches and just those girl talks. But like I said, a boy would be fine too. Gigi (as mom wanted to be called) would be so excited with the news too and would not want me to be sad. I tell myself that everyday, but it still is sad, I'm not going to lie.

Once upon a dream...

Last night I had a strange dream. It was about my last and final day before dying. It took place in the house that I grew up in with my family. How the dream took this direction (I don't know),but somehow it got to the point where I had been given the morphine to help make me comfortable. Although,I wasn't bed-ridden from the medicine. I knew that my time was short, therefore I was running around the house trying to make things right and to warn my family and friends. "This is it, there's no more time left," I was crying out!! But nobody seemed to notice my frantic state.

This part is where this dream becomes relevant to this particular blog. My mother was in this dream. She really didn't acknowledge my presence, in fact, I was pleading with her to talk to me. She was only watching me and smiling. It's like she knew what was ahead and was there to walk me through it, having done so, herself already. I didn't feel scared due to this fact and knew she was along for the ride.

Even though, it's really weird to dream about yourself dying, I welcome any dream that my mom makes an appearance. I can see her move around acting normal and happy. I don't have just a still picture to look at and struggle to imagine her voice. It all just becomes very real again.

Cleaning out the closet

Last weekend my father and I did one of the hardest things ever in my life. Finally after two years of avoiding the process, we cleaned out my mother's closet. "It's just things!" people will tell you, but they are wrong. It's the memories too. As a daughter, you went on a lot of those shopping trips. You remember making the trip to the store, trying on those clothes and the excitement of bringing them home. There were so many times, too, that my mom would then make me sit on her bed, while she matched up her new items to things she already had. There was always a fashion show involved. So, it's not just things!

Cleaning out a loved one's closet, like I said, is hard. It used to be my escape. When I felt sad about her death or felt like I needed her around, I would go in there and touch her things. They smelled like her. I would spray a bit of her perfume and close my eyes. I would actually hug her bathrobe and imagine her arms around me. Crazy, it may seem, but if you've lost a loved one...you know. Now, that escape is changing. We didn't get rid of it all simply because there were just some things that I wasn't ready to let go of. I didn't want to do something I would later regret.

It was also sad to see the progression of her being sick, going through papers and receipts. Her writing showed signs of her getting weaker and weaker. My God! How did she get through all of that? She was so frail; her poor hands!

I wish I could say that I feel stronger and made progress doing this hard task this week. But that would be a lie. There was a reason we kept putting this off. Of course, let's go see a movie instead! Sure, why not, let's just go away for the weekend. It will still be there, untouched, when I get back. We were all guilty of avoiding this. But the way I've felt this week, it feels like more like a step back, than forward. I'm sensitive, achy and questioning a lot of things. Would my mom want me to feel this way? No! She would probably wave her finger at me and say, "Don't Fret!" I just sit and think of how lucky I am to have had a mother with whom I had a relationship worth getting sad over.

When the other parent gets sick...

My dad has been sick for the past few weeks. After he's had x-rays, cat scans, blood work...the doctors have still not come to any conclusions on what could be wrong. I feel helpless, because there is nothing much that I can do to help him. Nothing anybody can do, really. I've driven him to his doctors appointments since he's been on pain medication and made sure he's had some things to eat, but other than that, I can only help keep a watchful eye. It makes you feel uneasy when the only parent you have left has something wrong. Your mind goes there. The "what ifs" can't help but go through your mind. On top of that, nobody likes to be alone when they are sick. It's a comfort to have someone around to help take care of you, right? It was put into a new perspective again yesterday when I was leaving my dad to head home. I said that exact thing, stating "I'm sorry to leave you. Nobody likes to be alone when they aren't feeling good." His response was just sad. "Well, that's what I've had to accept on how my life is going to be now..." I cried the rest of the night. Mom was the best care giver. She would be taking charge and making those doctor's listen and questioning everything. This mystery illness would most likely be solved by now.

Has it really been two years?

Today marks the anniversary of my mom's death. Last year I had the luxury of being away on business for the actual day, so I was able to put physical distance between myself and the memories. This year, I've been pretty sensitive this week. I've cried at some of the smallest things. It even seems that everything I watched on either the TV or at the movie theater had death as a major plot line. Help! There's no escape! Even if I tried avoiding those things, you can't get away from the longing of wanting to hold her hand or wanting to hear her voice again. I try to imagine what Mom and I would talk about if we had one more conversation. What would be worth updating her on? Brad once again provided a great distraction with a bike race in Watertown, TN. I did, of course, what mom would want us to do on this day. Go out and support one another. Be there and cheer each other on. Unfortunately, he had to deal with some mechanical issues, but the race still provided motivation to get out of bed and face the day.

Dad's Birthday

Today's my dad's birthday. The last time we actually celebrated it was the week before my mom died. She was in hospice. She couldn't hardly speak, she was so weak...but she still wanted to celebrate my dad one more time. For his present, she made me go out and get my wedding portrait framed for him. ( We had just gotten my wedding pictures back). This was a hard task. Here I was trying to shop and get this picture professionally framed to go in the house....knowing that she would never see it hung. I was spending time away from her and not holding her hand, just to fulfill this request. I wanted to be selfish and say "No!", but it was for her and I would do anything. I got it done in time, probably spent way to much money, but she got to see it and present it to dad. I'm not sure he really cared about it, but I know that it was something special she wanted for the house. She was so proud of my wedding. Though now, I can't even look at that picture when I go over there. It's just a reminder of my last shopping trip for my mom. It's a reminder of how hard that day was, because we all put on our strong, fake smiles and and ate birthday cake. Last year, my dad went on a vacation to get away from this day and this year he's gone again. I don't know if he will ever be around for his birthday again.