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Thursday, December 27, 2012

All I Need in This Chaos is My Little Blanket



Two days after Christmas and I haven’t fallen apart. Either I am about to or I was successful in refocusing my sad feelings. Time will tell.

All in all, it was a nice holiday. We woke to Santa’s gifts, rain and kids smiling and tearing into the presents. We ended the day with a white Christmas (about 5 inches), cold feet and hot chocolate. We don’t get much snow here…ever. In the past five years or so, we have had the two white Christmases ever. It’s unusual but it is beautiful.

Two days later, snow/ice. The kids want to play outside, the puppy won’t potty and my driveway is frozen. Still, it is beautiful and to see my kids up to their knees in the white stuff is priceless. They have had a great holiday. My daughter said it was the best Christmas of her whole life. It’s her fourth so I am worried that the bar has been set too high too early. Again, it doesn’t matter. Our little family made it through our first Christmas…..

So, Thanksgiving…check; Christmas…check. As far as I can tell no more firsts. Oops, first anniversary. I forgot that one. May will be different.

As for December, I am deciding that it was ok. What was my secret? I’m not sure. I miss her that is for sure. I can’t believe she wasn’t here to see the kid’s bounce around on their giant bouncy balls or ride on their “real two wheel scooters.” I still can’t believe she missed it. But, Christmas isn’t about who is physically present. We tried to focus on that. We tried to stay busy, we bought a house. If that doesn’t keep a person busy then I don’t know what will. 

What kind of crazy person buys a house at Christmas? Me, that’s who. It is part of my healing process I think. Bottom line, we moved two years ago rather quickly. Our house sold in three days and we had one day to find a new one. After a long day, we found our current home. We like it and it gave us more space/storage but it has never felt like my forever house. The plan was to move out of state in two years. Little did we know what was going to happen in the first year. That is part of why I need to move. I’ve said it before but it is worth explaining again. Not for your sake, but to try to understand myself. In this house, I feel like I am being chased by my mom’s memory. She didn’t live here, she didn’t really spend many nights here, but I feel like she is in every room of my house. In my kitchen, she made the curtains and organized my cabinets. In my living room, she arranged my furniture. My guest room was her room, it has been changed but we still call it Emmy’s room. She made the curtains in my bathroom and playroom. The other rooms have her touch too but I won’t bore you with the details. You get the point. In each room that I go to, I feel my mom there. I see her face. I see her. I can show you how she walked up my stairs and what she said on the way. I can tell you what she saw for curtains in my family room. She left before we could do that. I can tell you what she said when she hung my curtains in my bathroom and how I told her she better be careful standing on my tub. My mom is in this house and I need to move. 

I am wondering if that is a normal reaction. I am thinking it isn’t. I know people who hold on to every memory. People who latch on to every “thing” that belonged to the loved one. I worry that I’m not doing that. I worry that I am letting go. There is a huge part of me that just doesn’t want to do that. If I let go of “things” am I eliminating her? I don’t think so, but I’m not sure. My mom made me a lap quilt. It’s the only one she ever made. That’s the only “thing” I need. She made it with so much love. I feel it when I hold it, which is never often. I can’t. I washed it. She said she pricked her finger and bled on it a little. I couldn’t deal with that so I washed it. When I was folding it, I looked at her stitching. I can tell where she started and where she finished. I can tell when she started to get sicker. Maybe that’s why I can’t hold it for very long. I want to, it just isn’t time yet.

I am not attached to much in the way of material things. I am attached to memories and people. My mom was a very important part of my life. Maybe at my age, she was too important. Every move I made, I ran by her. It was like I had to get her thumbs up before I could do anything. Probably not the healthiest way to be, but she was my best friend and I valued her in every way. These past seven plus months, I have had to learn how to not rely on her to tell me if a decision was right or wrong. I’ve needed her. That’s not true, but it would have made deciding to move easier. Actually she knew we were going to move. She just didn’t know where.

I find myself wondering who is going to tell me how to set up my new home. Me. Who is going to tell me what kind of curtains to make? Me. Who is going to tell me how to set up my kitchen so that it flows? Me. I don’t want to do that alone. Sure, my husband will help, but we have both looked to her to make sense out of our self-imposed chaos. 

It’s good that we are moving. It’s good that we are going to build a home from scratch and make it ours. It will be hard and I am sure there will be tears, but we have to do it. For me, it is the healthy thing to do. In the end, it will be our forever home that we will continue to raise our babies in. It will be the home that holds our memories. No matter what, I’ll still have my quilt.


The following link belongs to my friend BJ Timoner. He lost his dad when he was only 5. On January 2, 2013 is his going to start his walk across America (twice) in the name of pancreatic cancer awareness and research. He is my Purple Pal and he is a real hero. Please take a look at his website. 

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