I traded my
boulder for an orange safety cone. How many of you figured that our already?
Funny, it took me a little while.
I have been
hanging on to the boulder because I felt like if I let it go then I let go of
my mom. I know in my heart that is not true, but my head isn’t on the same
page. Last Sunday was Purple Stride. Last Sunday I walked three miles for my
mom. I crossed the finish line for me.
As you
already know, I have acquired an orange cone. We have given him a personality,
agreed to take him on our journeys and include him in our efforts to raise
awareness and research donations. We are having fun and that is something we
haven’t had in a long time. Our cone is bringing fun back into our lives. Who
knew that is all it would take?
After the race,
I felt like my boulder had shrunk. My weight just didn’t seem so heavy. It kind
of made me sad. I can’t explain it but it did.
I still miss
my mom. Today I was trying to do something new to me but not new to her, make a
buttonhole. Two of us work for a long time and we just couldn’t get the machine
to do it. My mom could do it. I wish she was here so she could show me. No, I just
wish she was here. I know the people who know her all feel a great loss. I know
because they have told me. I can’t help feeling that my loss is the biggest.
That is too silly and selfish and I am embarrassed to even type it. Maybe I
need to explain.
My mom and I
were the only girls in a house of boys. My dad traveled for his job so he was
gone most weeks but home most weekends. Every water heater issue, sickness,
errand, meal, homework, and prayer was handled by my mom. My mom was with us
every second that was possible. My mom was supermom. She often said that she
had to be both mom and dad to us. I don’t blame my dad, he had to provide for
us and when he was home, I couldn’t be around him enough. He taught me how to
hammer a nail, change my oil and mow a yard. But still, Mom was Mom. When will
the tears stop? Will someone please, please tell me? When will this pain that I
have inside my chest stop? No, I have to be stronger. I have to be the mom.
Sometimes I just can’t do that, sometimes I want to just be the daughter. But I’m
not. Daughters need moms. It is just that simple. Moms just know, at least mine
did. It was like when she had us, someone filled her head with every solution,
remedy and general fix-it plan available. She could do it all. She kept us
together, she was our family.
Silly
blubbering girl. That’s what I feel like. The truth is, I am sleepy and I don’t
feel good. I think I have a cold. It’s my first cold since she left. I need my
mom. I know that sounds like I am dependent on her, but really all I need is
for her to say, take this or that, lay down and you will feel better tomorrow.
No one says that anymore. I wonder if they even know that I am needing to hear
those words? Doesn’t really matter. They won’t come and I can manage.
I can do
this. I can make it through…I hope.
This is my
cold talking and I know it. I happen to be one of the dysfunctional ones that
can’t take anything to help either. So when I get sick, I have to suffer
through. Oh woe is me, right.
I am
struggling with this entry and I just don’t know why. The words aren’t flowing.
Must be the cold. The good thing here at my pity party is I have snacks. You are welcome anytime
It’s funny
because as I type I am chatting with someone I have had the privilege to get to
know via Facebook. I know, “she hates Facebook.” Still do but everything
happens for a reason. He is my age and his story is similar to mine and so many
others. The difference, he didn’t get to live his life with his dad. I have so
many memories of my mom and yet he has so few of his dad. That’s not fair. He
is walking across America to raise awareness and money for pancreatic cancer….twice.
He just said that each day he will wake up and dedicate that day to a
particular person who has been victimized by this disease. He is giving my mom
a day. Who does that? Who thinks of others that way? I am moved.
So, on a day
where I haven’t felt well and I have needed my mom, a person, a friend, has
picked me up. He will honor so many, but the one that means the most is the one
he honors on September 4. Thank you. You’re message to me tonight was, I think,
really from my mom. You may not know what it was, but I do.
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