Oh how I have needed you this past week.
Regardless of any differences we had...regardless of what kind of place we were at in our mother/daughter relationship...I could always call you when I was sick and you knew just what to say to make me feel loved and cared for. Only a mom can do that. And you had a special knack at it. I always figured it was the nurse in you. But it was the mom too. I understand that now. I'm the same way with my boys. I know how to give that extra special loving only a mom can give to sick kids. I hope my kids call me well into their adult lives when they need that mommy touch.
It's sad how, at 16, I thought I didn't need you anymore. Those teenage years are rough. I already see Jonathan starting to pull away. It's what kids are supposed to do. But it doesn't make sense that we don't truly understand how much we need our parents until we are grown ups ourselves. And then, you and I ran out of time.
I'm getting by, but it's times like this when your absence is palpable. My teeth work last week, then the boys got sick and then I got it. It was a nasty flu/cold...fevers, congestion, cough. We're all recovering, but it has been a long couple of weeks. And I really missed making my calls to Nurse Nancy. You could always make me feel better over the phone. Dad has been wonderful and has been worried about me. It has been sweet. But I'm sure that he too has wished he could hand the phone over to Nurse Nancy and let you handle it. :-)
It's hard to think that I'll never be able to call you again. It's moments like these when it hits me that it is FOREVER. This isn't going to change. You're not coming back. I will get many more colds, and I will never have you to call. And then I have to remind myself to take things one day at a time and not get wrapped up in the "Nevers" and "Forevers". I'll deal with each day as it comes. I don't have to deal with all of them today.
I really miss you though. I miss Nurse Nancy. I just simply miss my mom.
I feel your presence, but I wish I could hear your voice. I wish for a lot of things I know I'll never have again.
I wish I had appreciated all of this so much more when you were here. One of those life lessons that reminds us to live in today and love the ones we have now because we are never guaranteed tomorrow.
Thank you for all the Nurse Nancy moments you gave me over my 40 years. I sincerely appreciate every one and I probably didn't say thank you enough.
I managed to survive this illness without you. But the absence of your care and your concern and your love was real and visible and will be during every illness I have for the remainder of my life, I'm sure.
We had more than our share of moments together. We sometimes couldn't figure the other one out. But you loved me like only a mom can love a daughter. And I miss that so very much.
I miss you Nurse Nancy.
I love and miss you mom.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Life Does Go On
Five years ago if someone had asked me if I could imagine life without my mom, I would have been horrified at the thought. The simple idea of living without my parents was too much to even think about. I knew one day it would happen, but I intended to be in denial about it until I had to face it.
Then 3 years ago, I thought I was losing my dad. His health seemed to be steadily declining and none of us knew what was going on. I remember talking to my mom about how sick dad was and how I was worried that she was going to have to take care of him for many years. I was sad for my mom because I knew she had sacrificed everything for her family for her entire adult life. And here I was worried about her now sacrificing her golden years while she was healthy and vibrant. I was sad to think about losing my dad and I was sad to think that my mom might have to spend a good portion of the rest of her life taking care of him if he was just declining. I remember it being a horrible time and a lot of conflict in my head.
And then my dad received his Parkinson's diagnosis and was put on medication and nearly overnight, he was back to my old dad. It was remarkable. And I thought that my parents were going to have many more years to enjoy together.
They had 2. And those 2 should be something to be grateful for, but it was still only 2 years. And then, overnight, mom was diagnosed with cancer and all of our lives were turned upside down.
And yet, we keep moving forward. Me, Michael, Dad...we all keep moving forward. And we're doing okay. And some days I feel guilty for that. Although I know there is no other choice. I suppose if I thought I had a choice to curl into a big lump and hide under my covers forever, I might have chosen that, but that was never an option.
It's amazing to me that you can lose someone so important in your life and keep moving forward. Some days it is really strange to me.
And then there are the days when it stops me in my tracks.
On Wednesday I had some long-needed dental work done. I wasn't anticipating the pain that came with it. It was the first time I had been in pain like that in a long, long time. I received a prescription for pain meds, but I don't take pain meds. And they would have made me drowsy and not able to be available to clients. I knew I wouldn't take them, but I went to the store and filled the prescription anyway, just in case the pain really got to a point where I couldn't take it anymore.
The store was packed. The pharmacy had about a 30 minute wait. I walked around looking for some soft food and started feeling really sad. This was one of those times when I would have called mom and she would have felt truly bad for me. Only a mom can really "feel" their child's pain. And mom would have felt mine and, although I wouldn't have wanted her to worry, I would have like the care and concern.
But I couldn't call her.
I was tired and in pain as I made my way out to my car in the dark and the emotions bubbled up. The tears came in buckets and there was screaming and yelling at I don't know who. It lasted a good 10 minutes.
When those moments come, I realize that, yes, I am moving forward. Yes, I am still a good Doula, a good Childbirth Educator, a great mom, a good student. I take care of all that needs to be taken care of in my life. However, there is, and always will be, a hole in my heart. And there will always be moments when I desperately miss my mom. I miss her every day, but those moments where it so so incredibly painful don't come every day. Nonetheless, when they do, they remind me that I will never fill the void that was left by the loss of my mom. There is no filling it.
But the rest of my life moves on. I have come to understand that, occasionally, I will have to pass through that place where the hole is in my heart. Life circumstances will come up that will take me to that hole. And the tears will come. And the pain will seem unbearable again.
And then it will pass. And I will keep moving forward.
I have come to understand that it will likely be this way forever. I am living and I can laugh and I can enjoy life, but every once in a while, I will fall into that hole.
And that's to be expected and it's okay.
The human spirit really is incredible. We can survive incredible things. 5 years ago I could never have imagined that I would be able to survive losing my mom. But I am. I don't like that I have to be going through this. But I don't have to like it. I just have to do it.
Oh...and on a side note...the pain meds were hydrocodone...exactly the same thing my mom had for pain when she was dying. I saw that bottle and it really took me back to standing in mom and dad's kitchen reading the labels on all the drugs that were there for mom. It was sort of a surreal moment. I never took any by the way. I would have had to be in much more pain to take one of those pills. But I feel like I had to go get them. I needed to have that moment too.
Life is all about the little moments. The good. The bad. The happy. The sad. All we can do is take each one as it comes and walk our way through it the best we can.
Life does go on for those of us who are left behind. And the best thing we can do to honor those that have died is simply to keep living.
Then 3 years ago, I thought I was losing my dad. His health seemed to be steadily declining and none of us knew what was going on. I remember talking to my mom about how sick dad was and how I was worried that she was going to have to take care of him for many years. I was sad for my mom because I knew she had sacrificed everything for her family for her entire adult life. And here I was worried about her now sacrificing her golden years while she was healthy and vibrant. I was sad to think about losing my dad and I was sad to think that my mom might have to spend a good portion of the rest of her life taking care of him if he was just declining. I remember it being a horrible time and a lot of conflict in my head.
And then my dad received his Parkinson's diagnosis and was put on medication and nearly overnight, he was back to my old dad. It was remarkable. And I thought that my parents were going to have many more years to enjoy together.
They had 2. And those 2 should be something to be grateful for, but it was still only 2 years. And then, overnight, mom was diagnosed with cancer and all of our lives were turned upside down.
And yet, we keep moving forward. Me, Michael, Dad...we all keep moving forward. And we're doing okay. And some days I feel guilty for that. Although I know there is no other choice. I suppose if I thought I had a choice to curl into a big lump and hide under my covers forever, I might have chosen that, but that was never an option.
It's amazing to me that you can lose someone so important in your life and keep moving forward. Some days it is really strange to me.
And then there are the days when it stops me in my tracks.
On Wednesday I had some long-needed dental work done. I wasn't anticipating the pain that came with it. It was the first time I had been in pain like that in a long, long time. I received a prescription for pain meds, but I don't take pain meds. And they would have made me drowsy and not able to be available to clients. I knew I wouldn't take them, but I went to the store and filled the prescription anyway, just in case the pain really got to a point where I couldn't take it anymore.
The store was packed. The pharmacy had about a 30 minute wait. I walked around looking for some soft food and started feeling really sad. This was one of those times when I would have called mom and she would have felt truly bad for me. Only a mom can really "feel" their child's pain. And mom would have felt mine and, although I wouldn't have wanted her to worry, I would have like the care and concern.
But I couldn't call her.
I was tired and in pain as I made my way out to my car in the dark and the emotions bubbled up. The tears came in buckets and there was screaming and yelling at I don't know who. It lasted a good 10 minutes.
When those moments come, I realize that, yes, I am moving forward. Yes, I am still a good Doula, a good Childbirth Educator, a great mom, a good student. I take care of all that needs to be taken care of in my life. However, there is, and always will be, a hole in my heart. And there will always be moments when I desperately miss my mom. I miss her every day, but those moments where it so so incredibly painful don't come every day. Nonetheless, when they do, they remind me that I will never fill the void that was left by the loss of my mom. There is no filling it.
But the rest of my life moves on. I have come to understand that, occasionally, I will have to pass through that place where the hole is in my heart. Life circumstances will come up that will take me to that hole. And the tears will come. And the pain will seem unbearable again.
And then it will pass. And I will keep moving forward.
I have come to understand that it will likely be this way forever. I am living and I can laugh and I can enjoy life, but every once in a while, I will fall into that hole.
And that's to be expected and it's okay.
The human spirit really is incredible. We can survive incredible things. 5 years ago I could never have imagined that I would be able to survive losing my mom. But I am. I don't like that I have to be going through this. But I don't have to like it. I just have to do it.
Oh...and on a side note...the pain meds were hydrocodone...exactly the same thing my mom had for pain when she was dying. I saw that bottle and it really took me back to standing in mom and dad's kitchen reading the labels on all the drugs that were there for mom. It was sort of a surreal moment. I never took any by the way. I would have had to be in much more pain to take one of those pills. But I feel like I had to go get them. I needed to have that moment too.
Life is all about the little moments. The good. The bad. The happy. The sad. All we can do is take each one as it comes and walk our way through it the best we can.
Life does go on for those of us who are left behind. And the best thing we can do to honor those that have died is simply to keep living.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
3 months
Wow...it's been a quarter of a year since mom died. It's hard to believe.
Last night I had been mulling over whether or not to drive to the cemetery today. I promised myself, when mom died, I would visit the cemetery at least every month on the 13th for the first year. I made it in November, but in December there was snow and it looks like I won't make it again today. But I'm going easy on myself. I've backed off my original plan and am allowing myself to say it's okay if I'm not there on the 13th. I do go often, and I will get there again soon. Mom knows I'm thinking about her constantly. I don't need a trip to the cemetery for her to know she's on my mind. Nonetheless, it is, strangely, where I feel the closest to her.
However, this morning at 3am I was woken by my client's husband. An hour and 14 minutes later, a beautiful baby boy was born into the world in the emergency room of one of the local hospitals.
Is there really any better way to spend this day than to welcome a new baby into the world? I don't think so. The circle of life continues to present itself to me. It is powerful and wonderful.
As I sat in the parking lot of the hospital waiting for my clients to show up this morning, I had a moment of thinking about what I was doing 3 months ago and how remarkably different my life is today. And it occurred to me that I'm okay.
I'm okay knowing that it's normal to feel sad at the oddest times. I'm okay knowing that it's good to laugh and smile and be joyful. I'm okay knowing that I'm moving forward without my mom physically present, but somehow still present in so many ways.
I'm okay.
Of course, I did find myself in the grocery store parking lot in tears on Sunday for no discernible reason. I just knew I was crying over mom, although I had no idea why it hit when it did. There didn't seem to be a noticeable trigger. But there I was...just wanting to buy groceries, but sitting in my car trying to stop the tears that just wanted to keep coming.
And on Monday, I watched Christopher's birth video as I do on every one of his birthdays. He turned 8 this year. On Sunday afternoon, it occurred to me that mom was on that video. I'm SO glad it hit me before I saw her on the video because I felt I had a little time to prepare. As the video played, I cried, as I always do, when Christopher was born. And then my heart started to race as I anticipated seeing my mom. And then, there she was...just for a minute or so...but I could see her, healthy and strong and smiling and happy. And I could hear her voice. Oh my gosh, that was incredible. I heard her laugh. And it was heart wrenching and beautiful at the same time. And then it was over. But I could rewind and see her again.
Sometimes I wish life had a rewind button.
But it doesn't and we keep moving forward.
Today my heart and mind is remembering my mom. But a part of it is also in Haiti where there has been so much loss of life after the earthquake that hit yesterday. And a part of it is with the beautiful new baby that was born this morning. The little baby that just couldn't wait to get to the labor and delivery floor. The little baby that is going to have a beautiful life with his incredible parents and 2 big brothers. The little baby that reminds me that life continues. And it is good. It is full of ups and downs. But we keep moving forward because there is no other choice. To not move forward would be to miss all the good the world has to offer.
I miss my mom. Every day I miss her. And I'm learning from those that have gone before me that it's possible that never changes. Strange how I initially thought it would. But I may miss her every day for the rest of my life. And I'm learning and accepting that it is okay.
3 months. I have learned a lot in those 3 months.
And today I celebrate a beautiful new life. 8 years and 2 days after I held my own new beautiful life in my arms, with my mom nearby. She was nearby today too. I know that without a doubt.
Welcome little baby D. Thank you, and your parents, for the wonderful gift you gave to me today.
Last night I had been mulling over whether or not to drive to the cemetery today. I promised myself, when mom died, I would visit the cemetery at least every month on the 13th for the first year. I made it in November, but in December there was snow and it looks like I won't make it again today. But I'm going easy on myself. I've backed off my original plan and am allowing myself to say it's okay if I'm not there on the 13th. I do go often, and I will get there again soon. Mom knows I'm thinking about her constantly. I don't need a trip to the cemetery for her to know she's on my mind. Nonetheless, it is, strangely, where I feel the closest to her.
However, this morning at 3am I was woken by my client's husband. An hour and 14 minutes later, a beautiful baby boy was born into the world in the emergency room of one of the local hospitals.
Is there really any better way to spend this day than to welcome a new baby into the world? I don't think so. The circle of life continues to present itself to me. It is powerful and wonderful.
As I sat in the parking lot of the hospital waiting for my clients to show up this morning, I had a moment of thinking about what I was doing 3 months ago and how remarkably different my life is today. And it occurred to me that I'm okay.
I'm okay knowing that it's normal to feel sad at the oddest times. I'm okay knowing that it's good to laugh and smile and be joyful. I'm okay knowing that I'm moving forward without my mom physically present, but somehow still present in so many ways.
I'm okay.
Of course, I did find myself in the grocery store parking lot in tears on Sunday for no discernible reason. I just knew I was crying over mom, although I had no idea why it hit when it did. There didn't seem to be a noticeable trigger. But there I was...just wanting to buy groceries, but sitting in my car trying to stop the tears that just wanted to keep coming.
And on Monday, I watched Christopher's birth video as I do on every one of his birthdays. He turned 8 this year. On Sunday afternoon, it occurred to me that mom was on that video. I'm SO glad it hit me before I saw her on the video because I felt I had a little time to prepare. As the video played, I cried, as I always do, when Christopher was born. And then my heart started to race as I anticipated seeing my mom. And then, there she was...just for a minute or so...but I could see her, healthy and strong and smiling and happy. And I could hear her voice. Oh my gosh, that was incredible. I heard her laugh. And it was heart wrenching and beautiful at the same time. And then it was over. But I could rewind and see her again.
Sometimes I wish life had a rewind button.
But it doesn't and we keep moving forward.
Today my heart and mind is remembering my mom. But a part of it is also in Haiti where there has been so much loss of life after the earthquake that hit yesterday. And a part of it is with the beautiful new baby that was born this morning. The little baby that just couldn't wait to get to the labor and delivery floor. The little baby that is going to have a beautiful life with his incredible parents and 2 big brothers. The little baby that reminds me that life continues. And it is good. It is full of ups and downs. But we keep moving forward because there is no other choice. To not move forward would be to miss all the good the world has to offer.
I miss my mom. Every day I miss her. And I'm learning from those that have gone before me that it's possible that never changes. Strange how I initially thought it would. But I may miss her every day for the rest of my life. And I'm learning and accepting that it is okay.
3 months. I have learned a lot in those 3 months.
And today I celebrate a beautiful new life. 8 years and 2 days after I held my own new beautiful life in my arms, with my mom nearby. She was nearby today too. I know that without a doubt.
Welcome little baby D. Thank you, and your parents, for the wonderful gift you gave to me today.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Taking Care
I am a caretaker. That's who I am. I take care of my family. I take care of my home. I take care of my clients. I take care of my dad. I took care of mom. It all comes naturally to me and I like it that way.
However, I fail miserably in one area. I do not do a good job of taking care of myself. I never have.
This year I intend to change that.
I would like to say I'm going to put myself first, but I know that isn't true. But I am, at least, putting myself on the list. :-)
I stepped on the scale for the first time in months and was not happy with what I saw. I was not surprised, but was certainly not happy. I needed to do it though. I needed to see the number to help give me motivation. When I look in the mirror, the toll last year took on my body is visible. I see it in my eyes and my face and my waist and my hips and my thighs and even my fingers and toes. It's as though I'm carrying it all around with me.
It's time to let it go.
I spent some time this weekend putting together a spreadsheet to track my eating and exercising and weight loss. I'm motivated today. I know there will be days that I am not. But I'm hoping I can continue to push through. I have made a healthy goal that I believe I can accomplish.
I have had to remind myself that letting go of this cover or this armor with which I have insulated myself is healthy and is okay. It's time to start walking in this world with the strength I have inside of me visible from the outside too.
My challenge is simple really. Just eat consciously. I have always worked out (thank goodness or who knows where I'd be right now!). I just spent the past year eating on the road. I would grab whatever was closest to tide me over. I also am a stress eater and eating consciously will help me curb that better as well.
It's not as much about losing weight as it is about being good to myself. It's about giving myself permission to take care of myself. It's about living life consciously and openly, even when it hurts.
It's a new year. It is no longer 2009, the year my mom died. It is however still only 2 & a half months since it happened. I have to respect that. I have to honor this grieving process. But I do not have to succumb to it.
I can still take care of all I need (and want) to take care of. But I can, and will, take care of myself this year too. I get the sense that mom is pretty happy with that decision. :-)
However, I fail miserably in one area. I do not do a good job of taking care of myself. I never have.
This year I intend to change that.
I would like to say I'm going to put myself first, but I know that isn't true. But I am, at least, putting myself on the list. :-)
I stepped on the scale for the first time in months and was not happy with what I saw. I was not surprised, but was certainly not happy. I needed to do it though. I needed to see the number to help give me motivation. When I look in the mirror, the toll last year took on my body is visible. I see it in my eyes and my face and my waist and my hips and my thighs and even my fingers and toes. It's as though I'm carrying it all around with me.
It's time to let it go.
I spent some time this weekend putting together a spreadsheet to track my eating and exercising and weight loss. I'm motivated today. I know there will be days that I am not. But I'm hoping I can continue to push through. I have made a healthy goal that I believe I can accomplish.
I have had to remind myself that letting go of this cover or this armor with which I have insulated myself is healthy and is okay. It's time to start walking in this world with the strength I have inside of me visible from the outside too.
My challenge is simple really. Just eat consciously. I have always worked out (thank goodness or who knows where I'd be right now!). I just spent the past year eating on the road. I would grab whatever was closest to tide me over. I also am a stress eater and eating consciously will help me curb that better as well.
It's not as much about losing weight as it is about being good to myself. It's about giving myself permission to take care of myself. It's about living life consciously and openly, even when it hurts.
It's a new year. It is no longer 2009, the year my mom died. It is however still only 2 & a half months since it happened. I have to respect that. I have to honor this grieving process. But I do not have to succumb to it.
I can still take care of all I need (and want) to take care of. But I can, and will, take care of myself this year too. I get the sense that mom is pretty happy with that decision. :-)
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Good Bye 2009
I felt it important to blog today as the year comes to an end.
I think it's always important to reflect on a year when it ends and to look hopefully into the new year.
I've always loved New Year's Eve. Probably more than any other holiday. Maybe it's because I love the idea of new beginnings.
Even though tomorrow is just another day, it feels like the start of something new, something fresh. Tomorrow is a new year. It's a new decade. 2010. It's amazing really.
I was watching a news story about when the festivities were cancelled at the Seattle Space Needle 10 years ago. I had completely forgotten that! As we entered the year 2000, there was fear of terrorism and the festivities were cancelled. I remember how sad I was about that. I never go to the Seattle Center at New Years and had no plans to go in 1999, but it felt like something was different that year. Thankfully, the festivities were back on the next year and have been ever since.
It's been 10 years since we were all so concerned about Midnight 2000.
This decade was a huge one for me. It was my 30s and it was a time of finding myself which is often not painless and that was certainly the case for me. Just when I thought I had finally figured it out, for the most part anyway, my mom got sick.
Gosh I remember New Year's Eve last year. We started moving at 8am and finally finished at 5am New Years Day. But even with that horrendous move, I was so hopeful for 2009. I was really looking forward to it. And then 2 and a half months later, mom was diagnosed and everything about the year changed.
And looking back, it is mostly a blur. A blur of trips north. A blur of hospitals and procedures. A blur of countless phone calls. A blur of months where so much was said without any words being spoken.
What still isn't a blur and is still very visible in my mind is the picture of my mind lying in the hospital bed in the living room. And her lying there after she had died. And the sound that is still very clear in my mind, when it wants to go there, is what it sounded like when she died. None of that has faded. I'm not sure it ever will.
2009 will always be the year I lost my mom. Nothing will ever change that for me. It's what 2009 will always symbolize.
2009 is also the year Olly lost his grandmother.
2009 is the year my home was burglarized and I lost a lot of security.
But 2009 will also be the year when I let go of a lot of old baggage because there was just no reason to carry it around anymore. I feel lighter since I let it go. I wish it hadn't taken cancer to make me realize how unimportant it all was and how silly it was to carry it around for all those years.
2009 will be the year I grew up in so many ways. It will be the year a new me emerged...a stronger, wiser me. I am not the same person I was when 2009 began. It's incredible really how much different I am from the person I was one year ago today. Life experience has a way of doing that to you I guess.
2009 will be the year I took the leap and started back to school. It will be the beginning of another life transformation for me. When I receive my degree in August of 2011, I will look back at 2009 as the year I took the first step that started me back towards my degree.
In 2009, my sons turned 7 and 11 and I turned 40. I love my boys' birthdays. They are always so much more fun than mine. But I had been looking forward to mine this year. I was looking forward to 40. Instead I spent the week before my birthday in a hospital room with my mom who was rarely lucid. And I spent my birthday with her at home when she was still really confused and not sure why I was there. It wasn't what I had anticipated. I would like to look forward to 41 this year, but I've found I'm a little nervous to plan anything these days for fear of what one phone call may hold and how it may change everything again. But, nonetheless, Christopher will be 8 in 12 days and I always love his birthday because it's something to kind of bring us down from the holidays. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years all end and then we still have Christopher's birthday to enjoy early in the year. It's a great way to start the year and I'm very much looking forward to it this year.
In 2009, I was present at the birth of 23 babies, one of whom was my nephew. 23 babies who celebrated their first holidays this year, who are celebrating their first New Year with their parents. There were some hard births and a couple of sick babies, but everything turned out beautifully in the end. I was able to share births with several repeat clients this year and one of those had her baby on my birthday.
And that is why I write today. I could look back at 2009 and only see it as the year I lost my mom. That would be easy to do. It was a very, very hard year. Not just for me, but for many people. My facebook page is filled with people posting about how ready they are for 2009 to end. Just in the last 2 months, the Seattle/Tacoma area has lost SIX police officers. It has been devastating. I know I am not the only one that has lost someone they love this year. I am far from alone in my grief.
But 2009 was filled with happy tears too. I was a part of 23 family's lives on one of the most incredible days ever. 2009 gave my family about 5 more months with my mom than we thought we would have and many good times were had in those months. 2009 brought a wonderful police officer into my life whose care and concern for my children was touching in ways that I will never be able to explain. 2009 brought a week of fun with my children as we played tourists in our own town and just enjoyed being together. 2009 included many, many, many childbirth classes where I got to do what I loved. Not everyone can say they have a job they love. 2009 reminded me that I have a man in my life who loves me unconditionally, who will stand by me through anything and will not let me fall even if he has to hold me up himself. 2009 included so much in the way of friends and family. I feel closer to so many of them than I did at the beginning of this year and have been reminded that we all need to make time for one another.
So, yes, 2009 was hard. It was the year I lost my mom. Lots of people lost someone this year. So many of us witnessed hard to understand things this year. So many shaken heads, not understanding this world sometimes.
However, although tomorrow may just be another day, it is a new year, full of new hope. Will bad things happen in 2010? Of course they will. But good things will happen too...just like they did in 2009. More babies will be born. They are the beacons of hope for our future. I have four clients due in the next 2 months and already have clients lined up throughout the year. 2010 will hold 48 weeks of school for me. Hard work for sure, but rewarding in the end. In 2010 I will turn 41. It will be my first birthday without my mom and it will be hard. But my mom gave me this life, and I will celebrate it!
Our family's year begins with my dad's birthday tomorrow. I just got off the phone with him. He sounds so sad. But I am grateful he is going out to dinner with the couple he and mom have spent New Year's Eve with for the past 15 years. They usually got a hotel room and stayed up playing bridge. But you can't play bridge without 4 players and they've lost one of their players this year. Nonetheless, I'm so glad they are still doing dinner. I told dad to go and laugh. It's what mom would want him to do. And he agreed. Tomorrow I am heading up early to dads to take down his Christmas tree. Then we're all heading to lunch where Michael and Kiersten and their boys and Kiersten's parents, Karen & Andy will join us to celebrate dad's birthday. We will celebrate dad without mom being physically present. But she will be there in spirit, of that I am certain. She wouldn't miss it.
Today I am incredibly grateful that what seemed like a pretty miserable cold yesterday is clearing itself out quickly so that I will have the energy to get up early tomorrow and be able to help dad with getting the Christmas decorations down. Yesterday morning I felt terrible and was concerned that I had more than just a cold. But I spent all day lounging in bed which I NEVER do and it's pretty remarkable what rest can do for a body. I'd forgotten that as 1) I don't really like to spend an entire day in bed and 2) I rarely get an opportunity to do it even if I wanted to. So when I'm sick, I usually have a class to teach or a birth to attend or something else to keep me busy and I don't often get to rest and recover. I did that yesterday and it WORKED! :-) I'll be making dad's cake today and getting laundry done and the boys packed for their dads this weekend, but other than that, I'm still going to try and take it easy today to keep giving my body time to recover. By the first day of 2010, I intend to be feeling even better!
I'm glad to see 2009 go. But I refuse to look back at it as only the year I lost my mom. That would negate all the good that took place this year. And although it was hard for me to find at times, every time I attended a birth or my children made me laugh, I found joy and the world brightened a bit for me.
There will be more joy this year. And I'm sure there will be some hard times too. But I look forward to 2010. I refuse to let the difficulties and hard times of 2009 take away my hope for brighter days. I have some things I am highly looking forward to in 2010 and I believe it will be a good year. I hope to look back at this time next year and look fondly upon 2010.
I am strong. I know that now. I have survived a year that I once thought I could never survive. I am still putting one foot in front of the other. I am still living. I am still laughing. I am still finding the joy in the midst of dark days. I am making my life better. And I know my mom is proud of me.
2009 was a tough year. But it was also a year filled with love, life, and learning. I am proud of the person I am as 2009 ends. A year can't be all bad if it ends that way. As I've said before, the human spirit is pretty amazing. It allows me to find that truth in a year when I lost my mom.
Goodbye 2009. I learned a lot from you. You will be a year I will never, ever forget. You took a lot from me, but I refuse to let you take my hope for the future.
I'm ready for you 2010. 2009 made me very strong. I will survive what you have for me too. But, it would really be great if you could maybe go easy on all of this year and throw in more joy than sadness. I'd love to look back on you a year from now and discuss what a great year you gave the world. :-)
Today, on the eve of the beginning of 2010, I hold out hope for a wonderful year filled with smiles and happiness. I wish that for myself and my family and for all of you and yours.
May we all greet 2010 with hope and open arms believing in the good the world has to hold.
I think it's always important to reflect on a year when it ends and to look hopefully into the new year.
I've always loved New Year's Eve. Probably more than any other holiday. Maybe it's because I love the idea of new beginnings.
Even though tomorrow is just another day, it feels like the start of something new, something fresh. Tomorrow is a new year. It's a new decade. 2010. It's amazing really.
I was watching a news story about when the festivities were cancelled at the Seattle Space Needle 10 years ago. I had completely forgotten that! As we entered the year 2000, there was fear of terrorism and the festivities were cancelled. I remember how sad I was about that. I never go to the Seattle Center at New Years and had no plans to go in 1999, but it felt like something was different that year. Thankfully, the festivities were back on the next year and have been ever since.
It's been 10 years since we were all so concerned about Midnight 2000.
This decade was a huge one for me. It was my 30s and it was a time of finding myself which is often not painless and that was certainly the case for me. Just when I thought I had finally figured it out, for the most part anyway, my mom got sick.
Gosh I remember New Year's Eve last year. We started moving at 8am and finally finished at 5am New Years Day. But even with that horrendous move, I was so hopeful for 2009. I was really looking forward to it. And then 2 and a half months later, mom was diagnosed and everything about the year changed.
And looking back, it is mostly a blur. A blur of trips north. A blur of hospitals and procedures. A blur of countless phone calls. A blur of months where so much was said without any words being spoken.
What still isn't a blur and is still very visible in my mind is the picture of my mind lying in the hospital bed in the living room. And her lying there after she had died. And the sound that is still very clear in my mind, when it wants to go there, is what it sounded like when she died. None of that has faded. I'm not sure it ever will.
2009 will always be the year I lost my mom. Nothing will ever change that for me. It's what 2009 will always symbolize.
2009 is also the year Olly lost his grandmother.
2009 is the year my home was burglarized and I lost a lot of security.
But 2009 will also be the year when I let go of a lot of old baggage because there was just no reason to carry it around anymore. I feel lighter since I let it go. I wish it hadn't taken cancer to make me realize how unimportant it all was and how silly it was to carry it around for all those years.
2009 will be the year I grew up in so many ways. It will be the year a new me emerged...a stronger, wiser me. I am not the same person I was when 2009 began. It's incredible really how much different I am from the person I was one year ago today. Life experience has a way of doing that to you I guess.
2009 will be the year I took the leap and started back to school. It will be the beginning of another life transformation for me. When I receive my degree in August of 2011, I will look back at 2009 as the year I took the first step that started me back towards my degree.
In 2009, my sons turned 7 and 11 and I turned 40. I love my boys' birthdays. They are always so much more fun than mine. But I had been looking forward to mine this year. I was looking forward to 40. Instead I spent the week before my birthday in a hospital room with my mom who was rarely lucid. And I spent my birthday with her at home when she was still really confused and not sure why I was there. It wasn't what I had anticipated. I would like to look forward to 41 this year, but I've found I'm a little nervous to plan anything these days for fear of what one phone call may hold and how it may change everything again. But, nonetheless, Christopher will be 8 in 12 days and I always love his birthday because it's something to kind of bring us down from the holidays. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years all end and then we still have Christopher's birthday to enjoy early in the year. It's a great way to start the year and I'm very much looking forward to it this year.
In 2009, I was present at the birth of 23 babies, one of whom was my nephew. 23 babies who celebrated their first holidays this year, who are celebrating their first New Year with their parents. There were some hard births and a couple of sick babies, but everything turned out beautifully in the end. I was able to share births with several repeat clients this year and one of those had her baby on my birthday.
And that is why I write today. I could look back at 2009 and only see it as the year I lost my mom. That would be easy to do. It was a very, very hard year. Not just for me, but for many people. My facebook page is filled with people posting about how ready they are for 2009 to end. Just in the last 2 months, the Seattle/Tacoma area has lost SIX police officers. It has been devastating. I know I am not the only one that has lost someone they love this year. I am far from alone in my grief.
But 2009 was filled with happy tears too. I was a part of 23 family's lives on one of the most incredible days ever. 2009 gave my family about 5 more months with my mom than we thought we would have and many good times were had in those months. 2009 brought a wonderful police officer into my life whose care and concern for my children was touching in ways that I will never be able to explain. 2009 brought a week of fun with my children as we played tourists in our own town and just enjoyed being together. 2009 included many, many, many childbirth classes where I got to do what I loved. Not everyone can say they have a job they love. 2009 reminded me that I have a man in my life who loves me unconditionally, who will stand by me through anything and will not let me fall even if he has to hold me up himself. 2009 included so much in the way of friends and family. I feel closer to so many of them than I did at the beginning of this year and have been reminded that we all need to make time for one another.
So, yes, 2009 was hard. It was the year I lost my mom. Lots of people lost someone this year. So many of us witnessed hard to understand things this year. So many shaken heads, not understanding this world sometimes.
However, although tomorrow may just be another day, it is a new year, full of new hope. Will bad things happen in 2010? Of course they will. But good things will happen too...just like they did in 2009. More babies will be born. They are the beacons of hope for our future. I have four clients due in the next 2 months and already have clients lined up throughout the year. 2010 will hold 48 weeks of school for me. Hard work for sure, but rewarding in the end. In 2010 I will turn 41. It will be my first birthday without my mom and it will be hard. But my mom gave me this life, and I will celebrate it!
Our family's year begins with my dad's birthday tomorrow. I just got off the phone with him. He sounds so sad. But I am grateful he is going out to dinner with the couple he and mom have spent New Year's Eve with for the past 15 years. They usually got a hotel room and stayed up playing bridge. But you can't play bridge without 4 players and they've lost one of their players this year. Nonetheless, I'm so glad they are still doing dinner. I told dad to go and laugh. It's what mom would want him to do. And he agreed. Tomorrow I am heading up early to dads to take down his Christmas tree. Then we're all heading to lunch where Michael and Kiersten and their boys and Kiersten's parents, Karen & Andy will join us to celebrate dad's birthday. We will celebrate dad without mom being physically present. But she will be there in spirit, of that I am certain. She wouldn't miss it.
Today I am incredibly grateful that what seemed like a pretty miserable cold yesterday is clearing itself out quickly so that I will have the energy to get up early tomorrow and be able to help dad with getting the Christmas decorations down. Yesterday morning I felt terrible and was concerned that I had more than just a cold. But I spent all day lounging in bed which I NEVER do and it's pretty remarkable what rest can do for a body. I'd forgotten that as 1) I don't really like to spend an entire day in bed and 2) I rarely get an opportunity to do it even if I wanted to. So when I'm sick, I usually have a class to teach or a birth to attend or something else to keep me busy and I don't often get to rest and recover. I did that yesterday and it WORKED! :-) I'll be making dad's cake today and getting laundry done and the boys packed for their dads this weekend, but other than that, I'm still going to try and take it easy today to keep giving my body time to recover. By the first day of 2010, I intend to be feeling even better!
I'm glad to see 2009 go. But I refuse to look back at it as only the year I lost my mom. That would negate all the good that took place this year. And although it was hard for me to find at times, every time I attended a birth or my children made me laugh, I found joy and the world brightened a bit for me.
There will be more joy this year. And I'm sure there will be some hard times too. But I look forward to 2010. I refuse to let the difficulties and hard times of 2009 take away my hope for brighter days. I have some things I am highly looking forward to in 2010 and I believe it will be a good year. I hope to look back at this time next year and look fondly upon 2010.
I am strong. I know that now. I have survived a year that I once thought I could never survive. I am still putting one foot in front of the other. I am still living. I am still laughing. I am still finding the joy in the midst of dark days. I am making my life better. And I know my mom is proud of me.
2009 was a tough year. But it was also a year filled with love, life, and learning. I am proud of the person I am as 2009 ends. A year can't be all bad if it ends that way. As I've said before, the human spirit is pretty amazing. It allows me to find that truth in a year when I lost my mom.
Goodbye 2009. I learned a lot from you. You will be a year I will never, ever forget. You took a lot from me, but I refuse to let you take my hope for the future.
I'm ready for you 2010. 2009 made me very strong. I will survive what you have for me too. But, it would really be great if you could maybe go easy on all of this year and throw in more joy than sadness. I'd love to look back on you a year from now and discuss what a great year you gave the world. :-)
Today, on the eve of the beginning of 2010, I hold out hope for a wonderful year filled with smiles and happiness. I wish that for myself and my family and for all of you and yours.
May we all greet 2010 with hope and open arms believing in the good the world has to hold.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Another unexpected first
In some ways it's almost funny when something pops up and I realize it's the "first whatever" since my mom died.
Today, it's the first time I've been sick without my mom. I've managed to stay healthy throughout most of the year which is pretty impressive considering the stress I've been under. It's amazing my immune system has held up as well as it has.
I suppose I'm due for a cold. And it's really just a cold. But I feel run down and tired and vulnerable and really miss not having my mom to commiserate with.
Whenever I used to get sick, I'd call my mom and talk to "nurse Nancy". No one takes care of you like your mom does when you're sick.
I'll never forget one night that I was spending at mom and dad's. I was 21 and had been out drinking and over did it. I showed up at their door and said, "Mom, I'm drunk." Mom brought me in and put me to bed. In the morning, she brought me water and chicken soup to help with my hangover. It still makes me laugh. Only a mom could love their child through a hangover like that.
She always knew when I wasn't feeling well. She could see it in my eyes. She knew when I was pregnant both times. She could see that in my eyes too. That, too, is something only a mom could do.
I haven't lived with my mom for 21 years. But she could still make me feel better over the phone when I was sick. I'm missing that a lot today. And it snuck up on me. This is one of those things that just pops up out of nowhere and hits me unexpectedly.
No one takes care of you like a mom does. I'll never have that again. And I'm admittedly tired and emotional today, but the reality of that sinking in makes me incredibly sad.
Today, it's the first time I've been sick without my mom. I've managed to stay healthy throughout most of the year which is pretty impressive considering the stress I've been under. It's amazing my immune system has held up as well as it has.
I suppose I'm due for a cold. And it's really just a cold. But I feel run down and tired and vulnerable and really miss not having my mom to commiserate with.
Whenever I used to get sick, I'd call my mom and talk to "nurse Nancy". No one takes care of you like your mom does when you're sick.
I'll never forget one night that I was spending at mom and dad's. I was 21 and had been out drinking and over did it. I showed up at their door and said, "Mom, I'm drunk." Mom brought me in and put me to bed. In the morning, she brought me water and chicken soup to help with my hangover. It still makes me laugh. Only a mom could love their child through a hangover like that.
She always knew when I wasn't feeling well. She could see it in my eyes. She knew when I was pregnant both times. She could see that in my eyes too. That, too, is something only a mom could do.
I haven't lived with my mom for 21 years. But she could still make me feel better over the phone when I was sick. I'm missing that a lot today. And it snuck up on me. This is one of those things that just pops up out of nowhere and hits me unexpectedly.
No one takes care of you like a mom does. I'll never have that again. And I'm admittedly tired and emotional today, but the reality of that sinking in makes me incredibly sad.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Christmas survived...almost
I didn't think Christmas was going to bother me as much as it did. I don't know why.
And it didn't bother me in the way where I desperately missed mom. I just wanted the holiday over. I just needed it to be done.
I had a good day. We had a great breakfast up at dads with Michael and Kiersten and my adorable nephews. There were smiles and laughter.
But there was a part of me that just needed it to be over. It's like living in a parallel universe where we all just go on with our lives, but the other side of us knows there is a visible absence.
I stopped at the cemetery on the way up early on Christmas morning. Olly and the boys stayed in the car. I just wanted to tell mom Merry Christmas. And I did. And I sobbed. Again. I was surprised by the reaction, just as I always am. It's silly really, but each time the emotions bubble up, I find myself surprised.
There were a couple of other people at the cemetery early on a Christmas morning. It felt sad. Almost as if I had joined a club I didn't know existed. The club of people who visit a cemetery on Christmas morning. And I believe that club carries a lifetime membership.
But I survived the day. I'd like for it to be over. I need for it to be over. I'd like to get all the Christmas stuff down, but for everyone else, it will stay up a little longer. And I'll survive it. It's only a few more days. I'm looking forward to it being over though. I want this Christmas behind me.
This last week of the year is usually my favorite. New Years Day has always been my favorite day. New beginnings. New hope.
2009 began with a move that took us 21 hours. It was not a fun New Years Eve. This year I'm looking forward to staying home and celebrating the entrance of 2010. Last year I really thought 2009 was going to be a great year. I was turning 40 and looking forward to it. And then in March everything changed with mom's diagnosis. There is a part of me that is terrified of what the new year will hold, but the other side of me is thinking positively and believing this year will be better than last.
There are definitely things I'm looking forward to... I am just a little afraid to get too excited. I suppose that is normal.
I have enjoyed this first week off from school. Olly and I finally went through all the boxes in the garage. Now it's just some organizing and we might actually be parking our cars there instead of just using it as storage! :-O And I finished all my financial paperwork that I really fell behind once mom got sick. It has been a productive week. Productive feels good.
So, I survived Christmas. Dad's birthday is next. I know that will be a hard one for him. But we'll all be there to help him through. I'd like to get him to the cemetery soon. I think that would be good for him. I think I've got an edge on Michael and Dad because I visit mom fairly often and it's hard and cathartic at the same time. They don't get that sort of therapy.
2009 is nearly gone. It will always be the year I lost my mom. But I'm ready to let the year go. I'm ready for a new year. I'm ready to keep moving forward.
Just gotta get that Christmas tree down...
And it didn't bother me in the way where I desperately missed mom. I just wanted the holiday over. I just needed it to be done.
I had a good day. We had a great breakfast up at dads with Michael and Kiersten and my adorable nephews. There were smiles and laughter.
But there was a part of me that just needed it to be over. It's like living in a parallel universe where we all just go on with our lives, but the other side of us knows there is a visible absence.
I stopped at the cemetery on the way up early on Christmas morning. Olly and the boys stayed in the car. I just wanted to tell mom Merry Christmas. And I did. And I sobbed. Again. I was surprised by the reaction, just as I always am. It's silly really, but each time the emotions bubble up, I find myself surprised.
There were a couple of other people at the cemetery early on a Christmas morning. It felt sad. Almost as if I had joined a club I didn't know existed. The club of people who visit a cemetery on Christmas morning. And I believe that club carries a lifetime membership.
But I survived the day. I'd like for it to be over. I need for it to be over. I'd like to get all the Christmas stuff down, but for everyone else, it will stay up a little longer. And I'll survive it. It's only a few more days. I'm looking forward to it being over though. I want this Christmas behind me.
This last week of the year is usually my favorite. New Years Day has always been my favorite day. New beginnings. New hope.
2009 began with a move that took us 21 hours. It was not a fun New Years Eve. This year I'm looking forward to staying home and celebrating the entrance of 2010. Last year I really thought 2009 was going to be a great year. I was turning 40 and looking forward to it. And then in March everything changed with mom's diagnosis. There is a part of me that is terrified of what the new year will hold, but the other side of me is thinking positively and believing this year will be better than last.
There are definitely things I'm looking forward to... I am just a little afraid to get too excited. I suppose that is normal.
I have enjoyed this first week off from school. Olly and I finally went through all the boxes in the garage. Now it's just some organizing and we might actually be parking our cars there instead of just using it as storage! :-O And I finished all my financial paperwork that I really fell behind once mom got sick. It has been a productive week. Productive feels good.
So, I survived Christmas. Dad's birthday is next. I know that will be a hard one for him. But we'll all be there to help him through. I'd like to get him to the cemetery soon. I think that would be good for him. I think I've got an edge on Michael and Dad because I visit mom fairly often and it's hard and cathartic at the same time. They don't get that sort of therapy.
2009 is nearly gone. It will always be the year I lost my mom. But I'm ready to let the year go. I'm ready for a new year. I'm ready to keep moving forward.
Just gotta get that Christmas tree down...
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