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.

Soap Operas make me cry

January is a hard month for me. It is the month that we thought my mom only had pneumonia. It is the month she lost her voice and it was never the same again. It was a month of hopeful waiting that the PetScan wouldn't come back and say CANCER. I think it was also the last month that was "real" with my mom. It wasn't full of sympathetic eyes, sad voices and scary prayers. I think we even had a few minor disagreements then. Oh, how I wish I could hear my mom yell at me...for anything. So, here we are towards the end of the month. My birthday is coming up this weekend and I thought I would be excited, but I'm not as pumped as I thought I'd be. See, I now associate my birthday with the weekend we found out my mom for sure was sick. So, the build up to my birthday is a little nutty for me. I have a lot of ups and downs and here's the crazy thing about grief...you can't help what triggers a memory and makes you sad. Yesterday, I was watching The Young and the Restless (yes, the stupid soap opera) and I just started crying. I wanted to be able to discuss how stupid Victor Newman is being and how Victoria just woke up from her coma. Silly, huh? But that would be real conversation for us. Small talk, really, and I miss that, a lot. You don't have to necessarily only miss the big conversations and wish for the good advice your mother would give. You can miss the "I'm going to the cleaners later and would you like spaghetti for dinner?" small talk too.

The Next Step

I was always deemed "The responsible child" and sometimes I understand why. When my mom got sick, I decided that I would prepare myself. I actually went on high-anxiety and sleep medicine so I could keep myself in check so that I could be helpful to the rest of my family. I went to see a psychologist to prepare me for what was to come. When that doctor didn't show up for an appointment with no excuse, I stopped going. I felt brushed aside and uncared for. When my mother finally passed away, I seeked help. I went to a Pastoral Counselor for about as long as I could afford it, which was about 3-4 sessions. I found it helpful because it was a place where I could just go and cry without a feeling it was a show. I still needed something else though. I needed to talk my feelings out. I couldn't do it with my family because we were in different stages of our grief. My younger brother wasn't really opening up, my dad was pressuring me to go to group and my older brother just comes across as criticizing because he was more at peace than I was.

I really didn't have a place to turn to. I finally gave in and went to grief support from the hospice, where my mom died. Each Thursday would come and I would roll out of bed in a bad mood. My husband would ask "What is wrong with you?" And I would try to explain, "How can you be excited about going to grief group? You are already set for the day knowing you are going to at some point have another break down and just feel depressed. Not only are you sad for your own loss, but everybody in there is just so sad. Nobody has any good news and everybody is old." That's right, my problem was that I was stuck in a group where everybody was much older than me. Nobody could relate to my loss at such a young age and I felt pressure when I talked. I felt like nobody wanted to sit and hear from a young adult. It may have not been the case, but those feelings of anxiety did effect my willingness to talk and get things out in the open. "Why can't I find something for my age? Why isn't there a place for young people?"

Because of my own experience with this problem, when the opportunity presented itself for me to help train to be a grief share facilitator at my church, I spoke up. Believe me, all week I'm been going back and forth with regret and encouragement. I haven't committed myself to something in a long time. Mostly because when my mom got sick I couldn't make any promises to people. She and my family came first and I was busy taking care of them. I never knew what state of mind I would be in as well. But this is important now. I don't want kids and young adults to go through what I did without feeling they can get support or have a listening ear. I feel this is the thing I can do to honor mom. My brother has gone off and done miraculous things in her honor by raising $16,000 for the Lance Armstrong Foundation and rode 100 miles in the bike race. I've included a picture from the race below. He will never know how proud I am of him. I couldn't do that and he did it with determination and strength. I feel that being the listening ear for this group is the way I can make a difference now.

Last night was the first session. I am going through the course first before I take it on to facilitate myself. They say that I am an answer to their prayers and that there have been requests for kids and young adults, but once again, I walked into a room full of older adults. I cried all night. "Can I do this?" I wasn't only crying for my mom, but for all those people in there. Everyone had a story and everyone was very sad. Here's a problem,I'm a crier. I cry easily watching TV shows, movies, hearing people's stories. Hallmark commericals...don't get me started. So don't they need someone that is going to appear strong? Maybe? But I think they also need to know that this person leading has felt the same things. They understand and have had the same questions and it's normal to cry. So, we will see how this goes. I really pray that I can stick with this. One of the reasons I started this blog is to help younger people find an outreach online. Kids and young adults are into blogging and maybe can use my journal as a resource tool. Maybe it will inspire them to write about their feelings. It has helped me a lot because I feel that I can talk about my sadness without bothering someone. I don't advertise this blog, so if someone reads it, it is because they have some kind of interest.