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Thursday, February 28, 2013

This is MY Solitary Journey



I think I’m going through a phase. Kids do it. We are always saying, “oh it’s just a phase.” My four year olds are going through a phase. Not together, they like to alternate. So, if kids go through phases, what makes us think that there is a magic point in time that these phases stop? 

I’ve covered the stages of grief and then my version of the stages. I think there are more stages, but right now I am in a phase. You’ve all heard the phrase, “sometimes bad things happen to good people.” I was told that just shortly after my mom’s diagnosis. 

Sometimes bad things happen to good people.

I consider my family and myself good people. I’m not sitting here waiting for something bad to happen. But every pain, fever, bump or what we call a bongadee (when you bang part of your body against something that hurts) causes me to stop and wonder to myself, what does it mean?
 
I’m not afraid of cancer. I’m afraid of the treatment. I’m afraid of the process and the suffering. I believe that I have seen true suffering. I don’t want to see it again.

I am supposed to give it to God, to have faith. I try but what creeps into my mind is that God’s plan and my plan may not be the same and I have no way of knowing what is around the next bend. Blind faith is hard and I am working on it.

This week my kids have been sick. By the grace of God, and I mean that, it isn’t the barfing kind of sick. They have been running a fever. Nothing serious, but try telling the little nagging voice in my head. My son has ear infections. He is fine. My daughter has an off and on again high fever. No flu, no strep. Very congested and really bad breath. I think it’s a sinus infection. Both have antibiotics. No problem. I worry because I don’t know what is going on in their tiny bodies. Is something growing that isn’t supposed to be? Is there something ticking? Is this normal? I don’t want it to be. I want to be the kind of mom that takes each day as it comes and not the kind that borrows trouble. I don’t know how to do that. I see other moms who look like they have it together. I am a mess. I’m a worrying, stressing, frumpy, tired mom/wife. 

I am going through a phase.

Most of the time when I type, I come up with solutions to my issues. As I sit here, I don’t see a solution. How do I stop worrying that something else is going to happen and take someone I love away? If cancer can attack MY mom, it can attack anyone. None of us are so special that we are immune to it. 
 
Is this a normal phase?

Two more months and it will be one year since she left. I still haven’t been to the grave. I wonder if I should. Not yet. My dad keeps flowers there. I can’t do that, she isn’t there. I am doing something soon that I think will be helpful. I am hoping it will be a way that I can let the boulder go. I don’t want to let it go because I’ve said it many times, when I let it go, I’ve let my mom go. I think I need to let it go. I’ll let you know more after it happens.

I feel old.

My mom didn’t want this for me. I know I can’t be up all the time, but I can’t be down all the time either. I have to push through. I do wonder if what I am doing here and in my life is just masking all of the things I haven’t dealt with. Have I swept so much under the rug that I am going to trip? That worries me because falling apart isn’t a phase I want to go through. I want to be strong, I want know that even though she isn’t here, all is good in the world.

I told my husband the other day that I think I want to put all of these entries into a book for my kids. At some point in the long, long, long away future, they are going to feel this way. For me, there were no guidelines, no books, no instructions. I have muddled through, day by day, by myself. I have lots of people around to help, but it’s my thoughts, my feelings, my emotions, my loneliness. They couldn’t get me through. This has been and continues to be somewhat of a solitary journey. My hope is that when it is my time to go I can give my kids my book. Maybe it will help them. Maybe they will read about what I’ve gone through and they will know that they can do it and they aren’t alone. Maybe I am wrong here. I would have loved for my mom to have given me some sort of instructions. Then maybe she wouldn’t have wanted me to know how she hurt.

I have no answers today, just questions. 

On a lighter note, we have moved into our apartment. We have giants that live above. They have bladder issues because the potty flushes all the time. My kids think we have pet mice that can write. I see two horses out of my bedroom window, I smell farm. The roosters crow each morning and occasionally the skunk sprays. I don’t like it here but it is temporary and I am thankful for my blessings.

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