It just has
to be the time of year that has everyone blah. Too many “events” have taken
place this year and maybe it has caught up with everyone. We are on the edge of
the holidays and it should be a time of holly, jolly cheer. But it isn’t. I
wonder why. Maybe the election? Nah, it won’t be the first time that your guy
didn’t win. Could it be the economy? Money seems to be the thing that drives
just about everything, so possibly. Or could it be the holiday blues? I don’t
know and I am no expert, but these holidays, for me, are not so holly, jolly.
You know why.
It is
important that I recognize this because if I don’t head my feelings off at the
pass, then I could ruin the most magical part of the year for my kids. I don’t
want to do that.
Choose to be
happy. That keeps sounding off in my head. For me it isn’t that simple. I am
not built that way and it frustrates me. Oprah said the other day that what we
put out “there” comes back. I don’t know if that is right.
Is your
glass half empty or half full? Depends on if you are drinking from that glass
or pouring some more in. May not be the best way to look at it. I never liked
that phrase.
I think we
are put on this earth to do whatever we are supposed to do. We are given
challenges, nothing we can’t handle right? The challenges are what gives us
strength. Or do they rip us apart? Again, I don’t know. This is probably not
the right time for me to answer that one.
Everyone
goes through portions of their life that are tough. Everyone is challenged.
Some are a little more than others. I can’t complain, but I have been haven’t
I? I do apologize but this challenge is just about to beat me to a pulp and I
just don’t have much control over it. I am guessing that by the time I am
finished, I will be so strong that the mountain I am trying to move will be a
piece of cake. Or as my kids say, “easy peasy jungle breezy.”
As if you
didn’t already know, my mom is still on my mind. This past week I have been
missing her touch. I can feel her cheek. It was always so soft. I wonder if my
daughter thinks that about mine. Her hands were just a little smaller than mine
but so soft. I never understood how she was able to keep them so soft. Mine are
rough. Her hair was the same style for as long as I can remember. Perfect. All
she needed was her fingers and it would go back into place. She gave the best
hugs. The kind that would last forever and you never cared. The kind that said,
“Carole you are home and I will take care of everything.” I loved those hugs. I
wonder who she is hugging in Heaven. Not me. That person is lucky.
Everyone has
a story. I do and someday I might share mine. My mom loved to share my story
with everyone we met. It always embarrassed me but I understood that she was
proud and wanted everyone to know what God had done for me. Someday, I will
share. I just miss that. I miss her voice, her love, her over-the-top sharing
of my life.
This is the
toughest thing I have had to go through. I don’t like it and I am not sure what
I am going to learn from it. I guess I will find out.
Someone told
me the other day that they had lost a parent quite suddenly. My heart broke for
them but at the same time I though suddenly would have been less painful. Each
day that passes is a memory of this time last year. What I remember is that
each day that passed was the last. Horrible way to look at it, but I couldn’t
help myself. That was how my brain saw it. Do you know that when I sit
upstairs, I can almost see my mom walking up this time last year? When I go
into “Emmy’s room” I can see her bag and her makeshift bedside table, this time
last year. I know what is real, I haven’t lost it that much, but I can see her
like it was this time last year. I hope I can keep those memories. I hope they
don’t fade. The thought of that makes my heart hurt. Still, after six months, I
will close my eyes and wish with everything that I have in me that she will
just call or open my front door. I just know this is a joke and we are all
going to laugh when it comes out. It has to be a joke. My mom isn’t gone. My
mom isn’t dead. My mom is at home watching Dancing With the Stars. Right?
The answer
will always be no. What an awful word.
My mom told
me that she would miss us. I told her that we would be with her in a blink of
an eye. Maybe for her but not for me. That was hard. She was comfortable with
going to Heaven, but yet she was telling me she would miss me. I really don’t
know how I managed to keep it together because the truth was, she wouldn’t miss
us, we would miss her. That’s how it is supposed to be. I wonder if it is okay
to not like the rules. I accept them, I just don’t like them. I would like a
direct phone line. Even if it meant I could only use it a set amount of times.
Who am I kidding, I would have used them up already.
Someone at
work the other day said that a friend went to the doctor for something and by
the time she was finished, she was told she had pancreatic cancer. That hurts.
Someone else has to fight, someone else most likely won’t make it. Someone is
going to tell their children that they are going to miss them. Someone is going
to feel like me…again.
Million
Dollars for Mom has raised $2200 in six months. More if you count Purple
Stride, I will. That isn’t enough.
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