Third Anniversary

Funny how we can remember the small details in a life changing moment.

Tomorrow is the third anniversary of my mother's death.

We knew it was coming but didn't expect it so soon.

I called her in the hospital that morning from work.  I never did this.  There was just that pull to do it and she said that she was being transferred to a larger hospital.  I asked if I should come.  Her responses was, "Jesus Christ, no."  I knew she was going to be fine and would call her again once she settled in at Marquette.  I told her I loved her and she said she loved me.

Not more than four hours later, she was gone.

I was having lunch with my co-workers.  It was my going away lunch as I was leaving to go onto new things.

My sister called me as we were leaving the restaurant.

Mom was gone.

I let out a cry and felt everyone look at me.  I didn't care.

My mom was gone.

As much as that woman drove me bat shit crazy.  I loved her.

I still love her.

I carry her with me always.

There are days where I wish that there was more time.  There are times when I wish I could have been there when she left.

I am so thankful that I made that call the morning.  

She left knowing I loved her.  She left with me knowing she loved me.

(The photo is me and mom on my 26th birthday.  She always bought me glittery sweaters.  I hated it but I wore it because I love her.)

Mom's Curlers

"Do you know where your mother's curlers are?"

The question took me off guard.

My step dad called and asked me where my mom's rollers were.  Mom died several years ago from lung cancer.  My sister and I went through all of her stuff at his request and tossed what we tossed and kept what we kept.

I thought it was a strange question.  So I made a smart ass comment...

"Are you planning on making a change?"

He didn't even chuckle.

His girlfriend wanted to have her hair curled.

I sat on the other end of the phone...stunned.

Why would anyone want to use a dead woman's curlers?

I must admit that I struggle daily with the loss of my mom.  But I knew that my step dad was going to move on.

The problem is that I don't think he understands my own grief.  He doesn't understand that things he randomly does or say regarding my mom really bothers me.

It was very very difficult to see another woman sit at my mom's table and even more difficult to watch her sleep in my mom's bed.

(My eyes sting when I typed that just now)

The first time I met the girlfriend, she was sitting topless at the kitchen table right where my mom had her coffee.  I wanted to vomit and run.

The thing with the curlers is that my mom always set her hair.  She used those black rollers with the bristles and the plastic pointy pins and once her hair was up, she wrapped it in a red bandanna.

I could never figure out how in the hell did she sleep with those things in her hair.

In the morning she would take out the rollers and tease her hair until it was mad and sky high in the hair.  Sometimes I wish I had a picture of that sight.

I don't think that I can ever go visit the house ever again.  It is just like my mom was erased from a sketch and you can see the blurred lines just barely.

Grief is a weird emotion.

Anger in Grief

I haven't blogged in awhile.

My laptop took a crap and I am using my son's, which isn't the easiest to use.  As I type, the cursor moves around and typos happen.

I also haven't had much to say.  Who wants to hear about my adventures in fondling tomatoes and inspecting bananas?

Anyway....

This time of year is graduation.  It is a happy time for families and students.

As I scrolled through my Facebook feed the other day I came across a photo of my aunt and uncle with their granddaughter.  I teared up suddenly.  My aunt looks so much like my mother.  The same salt and pepper hair, the same shape face.  I starred at the photo.  My cousin's daughter reminds me of my own with long brown hair and a wide smile.  I cried.

My mother died a few years ago from lung cancer.  I never really sobbed over it.  I don't think I grieved like you would imagine what grieving would be like.  It is weird and hard to explain.  I just expected to break down but I never did.

Back to the photo...

I think my tears came from anger.  I am angry at my mom for dying.  It is such a raw and real emotion.  It came from just picturing my own mother and daughter on Kate's graduation day.  This will never happen.

I used to think my mom would be around to share in my children's life events.

I think what angers me the most is that she was so selfish to not see a doctor sooner or to take better care of herself.  She admitted that she hadn't seen a doctor of 17 years prior to the cancer diagnosis.

Maybe is a normal feeling to be angry.

I also think I am thinking more of missing my mother because I have been through some rough times over the last couple of years.  There are times I wish I could just call her.  She had a way of talking you off the ledge and give you a sense that everything will be ok.

Sigh...

Dear Mom...

Dear Mom,

I think this is the very first letter that I have ever written you.  Kind of strange but I have never really moved so far away to where I couldn't just pick up the phone and call you.  This time circumstances are very different.  You are the one who is very far away and I don't believe there are any phones where you are.

I have always been a big letter writer.  Well, you knew that already since you had to put stamps and addresses on every letter I wrote until I was old enough to do it myself.

We scattered your ashes in your favorite fishing spot.  It was the very first time that I was ever there.  It is quite amazingly beautiful and quiet.  You should be at peace there.  It was hard to do.  It is hard to say good bye to someone that I have known my whole entire life.

Mom, I haven't really mourned your death yet.  It has been almost 11 months and I have not allowed myself to cry or mourn.  It is weird.  I think that if I really stopped to do it, I may never stop.  It doesn't mean that I don't think of you.  I think of you every day.  I think of what you are missing.  I think of the cancer that took you away.  I think about how sometimes I wish I could just call you.

Maybe I am mourning you.  I don't know.  I never had a mom die before.

I am thankful that I did get to talk to you the morning on the day you died.  I am thankful that I got to tell you that I loved you one last time and I am also thankful that I got to hear that you loved me too.  That was most important since I couldn't be there when you left.  

I went through all the cards that people sent us expressing their sympathy.  It is strange to look at them now and think that they offered their sympathy then but now we (your family) still hurt and miss you.  

I also went through the slides that I got from you.  It is so strange to look at them now and remember what it was like to be a child and looking at you younger than I am now.  They are good memories.  Thank you for giving me the slides.

I know that I am angry.  I am angry at the cancer that took you.  I am angry at you for not going to the doctor sooner.  I am angry at the cigarettes.  I am angry that there wasn't more time.  I am angry that you will miss life events.  I am just still angry.

I wish I could write more and tell you everything but I am crying now. (I guess I am mourning, eh?)

I miss you so much.

Love,

Me

My mom

Mom's final resting place

Mom's ashes being scattered

You know that bowling ball?

I carry around a lot of hurt with me.  I tend to hide it but it's there.

It feels like a big old bowling ball on top of my chest.

I guess I've been through a lot in the last year or so.

My break-up still affects me.  I carry around that hurt and can't seem to quite let it go.  I can't put my finger on what triggers it.  I am afraid to meet men or date anyone.  It isn't because I am afraid that they will pull the same crap on me.  I think his words "I just don't love you" hang on to tight.  I can't seem to shake that "unlovable" feeling.  It is that image in the mirror that stares back at me, that unlovable person that I see. 

I need to work on that.

When we first learned that mom was sick, I understood how bad it was from the beginning.  The doctor said that there was a mass on her lung and that it didn't look good, I didn't need more tests to understand that she wasn't going to get better.  Five months later she was gone.  I haven't really cried or grieved her death.  I don't understand why I haven't done it.  I can't make myself do it either.  It doesn't work that way.

I do miss her though.  I miss not having her to talk to.  I can't believe I miss having her tell me what to do.  Big things have happened for me and she just isn't here to tell.  Telling other people isn't the same either.  I don't know if it just because I am the oldest child and she talked to me more. (I don't know what kinds of relationships she had with my brother and sister.)

I just know I miss her.

In between the break-up and my mom's passing I had something happen with my former employer.  It seemed pretty shitty to me.  I tried holding myself together during the tough times and I tried not to be a horrible employee but when a co-worker does something shitty behind your back while you are going through something shitty, everything just becomes shitty.  And then HR gets involved.....I am still a little angry about it.

I did something about it and I now work some where else.  :-)

I still don't know how to deal with the bowling ball of hurt.  I keep wondering when I will be happy again.  I wonder when that switch will flip on.

A Different Kind of Anniversary

My mom passed away two months ago today.

I don't write about it much or how I feel about it because once I do, I can't stop crying.  (like now)

It has been a hard two months without her to talk to.  I can't just call her up because I feel like it.  I can't tell her how I like my new job or that I am thinking about buying a house.  I can't tell her that I finally but my hair off.  I can't tell her that she has a new grandpiggy.

It upsets me.

Lung cancer took her.

I get angry over that too.  She could have stopped smoking.  She could have taken better care of herself.  

She won't be there for her grandkids' graduations or weddings.  

This weekend we have to go through her things.  That upsets me too.  It feels like I am picking off a scab of a deep wound.  

Ugh...

People say that she is around and can see what's going on but it isn't the same.  

She isn't suffering anymore but those of us left behind are.

Cancer

I normally write a post in Word first, read it and reread it, edit it, spell check it, hem and haw over posting it and then post it.

This is not the case today.  I am just winging it.

Sometimes I just need to do a mind dump and write.

My world has taken on a new perspective lately.  I am learning about different parts of the human anatomy and how radiation works and what chemo does to the cells and there have been discussions about how to have a funeral.

It has been an interesting 6 weeks.

My mom has cancer.

and....it isn't good.

Not like there is a good cancer.  The word cancer is horrible.  It means suffering, sadness, pain, anger, struggle, and a whole bunch of other things that race through my mind.

I knew it wasn't going to be good when mom was admitted to the hospital back in August.  I mean the world's most stubborn person on the planet who hasn't seen a doctor in God knows how long can't be expected to just have a common ailment.  Even I know reality when I see it.

It has been hard.

I live about 5 hours away.  I often wonder how she holds up during treatment or doctor appointments when they say "it is in your bones" or "we need to start treatment or you won't see November". I wish I could just be there to help take her to appointments or to the store or just talk to her face to face.  

It hasn't been too much of a secret that I have unresolved issues with my mother.  I am pretty much sure that these issues will never be resolved.  I've excepted that.

Just because there are issues, doesn't mean I don't care or love her.

I guess in a way, it makes things worse.

I'll just deal with it.