Dear Mommy, December 30, 2010
I'll shed no tears for you today.
Though one year ago you became my AngelMommy, I will not mourn. For if you taught us anything, it is not to mourn in the face of tragedy but to stand firm, resolute, determined, and with patience. No tears, only strength.
I can't believe how much you've missed this past year. Your beautiful grandchild sleeps in the next room and reminds me that the real tragedy is that you never met her, though you wanted nothing more in your life. Yet, she is you. Every molecule, every breath, every ounce of her spirit is you. I look at her every day and I see you. Her eyes are your eyes and her joy is your joy. The tragedy is that she will never meet you. Her Angel Shelf in the nursery is adorned with relics of you, so she will know your image, and she will only have to look inside herself to know your spirit and soul.
I can't believe a year has passed since we watched cancer consume your body. My mind is wrought with imagery every day, some beautiful, some gruesome. Every day, I think of you at some point in your life with me. I think of going to the mall with you and never really appreciating your generosity towards me. I think of you taking me to doctor appointments as a child. I think of you in every moment of my life, watching, smiling, waiting for me to ask for you advice, knowing I always would. And every day I remember your best advice: "Just be nice." I try so hard for you... Sometimes I remember going to chemo with you and your optimism. I don't think I every really knew how deadly this cancer was until we were told, "It's time for hospice." Then I understood. Then we watched you recover from a devastating brain injury only to come back to us and grow weak again, and perish. The miracle in it all was that you did recover from the brain injury and we were able to spend real time with you. You never cried in my presence, just like my whole life. You were strong and calm and patient. I will strive for these qualities in my own adventure of parenthood.
I will never be as good a mother as you were to me. My whole life, the only thing my very active imagination could not conceive of was losing you. Then, one year ago, my imagination was tested. Inconceivable. Every day for the past year, I wake up wondering, was it all a dream? I think of calling to tell you the smallest things, or to send a picture of Adelaide. I pause and remember. Those are the moments where you still live. I will never stop thinking of you.
Adelaide will know you. She will refer to you as Oma, as you wanted. She will know when your soul is shining through in her, and she will love you. This is my promise to ensure you live on.
I'll shed no tears for you today. The tears I shed are for me, and for Adelaide, and for Daddy, and for Grandma, and for Luke, and for Auntie and Uncle Mark, and Oma and Opa, for we are the ones left behind. You wouldn't want us to be sad for you, but the selfishness in me can't help but be sad for myself. I miss my mommy every day. I will miss her forever. And I'll try to emanate you in everything I do, but things will never be the same.
I love you forever, my AngelMommy,
Your daughter,
Lorien
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
Approaching "One year since..." and My Grief
A friend asked me a while back about my grieving. Today is my mom's birthday and I am obviously thinking a lot about her. I remembered something that was absolutely a huge part of my grieving and possibly a reason I did get through grief quicker--right after she passed, my dance teacher choreographed a piece in her/my honor to the song Time in a Bottle which is an amazing and very sentimental song to my family (I don't know how he knew that...). He taught us the beautiful lyrical choreography in class for 3-4 weeks and we just danced and I cried every time and my dance friends comforted me. The last week we did the routine, I had the biggest cry of all at the end of class and my teacher just held me and cried with me and that was it. I didn't cry for a long long time after that. So I guess that's my answer. I grieved through dancing and music... appropriate right?
I went back to dance on Wednesday (I had to stop going in May because of my back during pregnancy) and everyone was amazed at my body! My tummy essentially went back to flat about 2 weeks after she was born though there's still a bit of extra skin. I am definitely more "feminine" now, but it felt good to "show off" to people who obviously know my body very well. Luke did amazingly well while I was gone. It was his first time alone with Addy while she was awake the whole time (2.5 hours). Usually I only leave him with her if she's sleeping. It felt so amazing to be back at dance and made me feel like I can still have a semblance of myself even with a child. I start to feel like it's impossible to really be myself anymore, but I'm really morphing into a different person, with Addy becomming a huge part. But the other parts of me are equally important to remember and exercise whenever I can! I'll be able to love her more if I feel love for myself... I don't know if I'll go back the whole month of December because of the holidays, but come January I think it will be part of my life again!
I went back to dance on Wednesday (I had to stop going in May because of my back during pregnancy) and everyone was amazed at my body! My tummy essentially went back to flat about 2 weeks after she was born though there's still a bit of extra skin. I am definitely more "feminine" now, but it felt good to "show off" to people who obviously know my body very well. Luke did amazingly well while I was gone. It was his first time alone with Addy while she was awake the whole time (2.5 hours). Usually I only leave him with her if she's sleeping. It felt so amazing to be back at dance and made me feel like I can still have a semblance of myself even with a child. I start to feel like it's impossible to really be myself anymore, but I'm really morphing into a different person, with Addy becomming a huge part. But the other parts of me are equally important to remember and exercise whenever I can! I'll be able to love her more if I feel love for myself... I don't know if I'll go back the whole month of December because of the holidays, but come January I think it will be part of my life again!
Friday, November 19, 2010
Holiday Card
Picture Joy Christmas
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Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Adelaide's Amazing Arrival: October 11, 2010
Sitting here in the cloud of new mother-hood, I’m overwhelmed by the paradox: the feelings of awe and disbelief mixed with a feeling of “extreme-rightness.” How did this happen? Is this real or am I just dreaming? Caught in the haze, I’ll try to remember the details of this child’s amazing arrival into our world…
On Sunday October 10 in the afternoon, I felt a sensation I decided to call a contraction, though having never actually felt one before, I really had no idea. I decided to time these “contractions” and found that they were occurring incrementally closer together, but at irregular intervals. Luke cooked me a beautiful dinner and we proceeded as if nothing was happening… Well around 3am, I confirmed for myself that something was indeed happening.
In the night, around 3, these “contractions” started becoming a bit stronger and occurring at regular 10 minute intervals. I tried to doze between them, but found myself glancing at the clock more frequently than anything else. By about 6, I decided to sit up, thinking it might help things move along. It did—by 8am they were about 6-7 minutes apart. Once they reached 5 for an hour, we diligently called labor and delivery who told us, respectfully, not to come in yet. So we tried to doze more for another hour, when I reached the point of near freak-out, not knowing what was really going on in my body and desperately wanting to find out.
We arrived at Kaiser at 10:40am where the triage nurse rather roughly checked me out. She said I was only 1cm dilated and that I should go home or go walking. I said, “You’re crazy, I’m not going anywhere” (in so many words). She got the midwife to check the baby’s position and the midwife also ventured into the argument of why the 1cm dilated nervous-as-heck pregnant lady should go have lunch in downtown Walnut Creek instead of staying at the hospital. I expressed my concerns, specifically around the blood pouring out of my body since the rough exam. She changed the pad and on the next gush I said, “Geez it’s so much,” and she said:
“Actually that was your bag of waters. You’re not going anywhere.”
“WHEW. I knew I wasn’t going to leave…” This was at 11:30am.
She explained that it was still so early on that I would probably be there a long time (well into the night or next day, she was guessing). I said I didn’t care, I was just so happy to not have to decide whether to go home or wander the streets of Walnut Creek!
I was eventually checked in, but by then the contractions were much stronger. Once I got in the labor and delivery room, I sat on the birthing ball for about 20 minutes, but then I had to get in the bed and have an IV because I was Group B Strep positive. I was also on the fetal heart-rate monitor and contraction monitor. This confinement was not ideal. However I soon realized I was quite lightheaded and breathing through contractions was not helping that situation. Luke thought I probably would have stayed in the bed during that time anyways.
Time went on, Luke and Mum helped me through contractions by breathing and concentrating. I said to Mum at one point, “This really sucks. This is so hard.” She agreed or course (you never argue with a woman in labor!). I tried to think about opening and relaxing, but it was so hard because it is your body’s instinct to tighten up when there is pain. I threw up massive amounts on a couple of occasions which was a surprise to both me and Luke (who actually got barfed on, unfortunately—prep for the long haul with a baby I suppose), but not to our wise nurse (ah, the things they don’t tell you in birthing prep class!). I felt like the contractions were getting stronger and stronger and refused offers for music or a movie, like we had planned as distractions during a potentially very long first labor. I didn’t want anything but to get through each contraction.
Finally the antibiotics in the IV were done and I was allowed to get out of bed. This was around 4:15. I had mentioned to the nurse at some stage that I would like to get in the shower for pain relief. She knew and supported my desire to have a natural delivery and never pressured for meds. Luke helped me into the shower where I tried standing for a little while. I moaned through the contractions at this point, because I started feeling like my legs were going to give out on me and my insides were going to come out. I was trembling violently. After a bit I sat on the seat with a hole in the middle with the water on my back and Luke’s wonder-hands massaging. Every time I had a contraction, he would tell me I was doing great and I would sometimes say, “Oh hunny, oh hunny,” never accompanied by swear words or curses. I decided I was done and that this was ridiculous and that I needed something to stop the pain. I thought I was such a wuss and that if I was going to have as long a labor as everyone thought I would that I would need an epidural to get through the worst pain yet to come (I truly could not imagine anything worse). The nurse came in and I said I felt like I needed a bowel movement. Luke said, “Please get the midwife so she can get checked for dilation.” The lovely nurse noticed the strength of my contractions and said, “Oh those are much stronger now.” I thought, “DUH!”
Somehow I got back to the bed and the magical midwife appeared. By this time it was 5pm, 5 and a half hours after my water had broken. I had my mind set that if she told me I was only 4 or 5 centimeters that I would ask for drugs. As I writhed through the exam/contraction, the midwife said, “WOW, actually if you want to you can PUSH.” I felt such relief that I wasn’t a wuss and that this would be over sometime soon. I also felt a twinge of disappointment that I would have to feel the remainder of the delivery. So they helped me set up for pushing and Luke did exactly like we practiced—counting through each push, paced by the midwife (though I liked his fast pace better).
After every contraction, I “relaxed,” wondering how far the head was and how many more times I would have to do this pushing business. I said something like, “I want to have this baby out now please!” The nurse and midwife and Luke said reassuring things like yes she’s coming soon, and asked me if I wanted to see the head in a mirror (“NO!) or feel the top of the head (“NO!). When I was ready to push again, I would say, “OK here it comes—HELP!” And pushing commenced. I pushed for 35 minutes and finally, in 2 big consecutive pushes, out came the baby. At 5:40pm on Monday October 11, 2010, this slimy gray blob appeared on my belly and I was thinking, “No way. That did not just happen. This is not a baby.” Then I saw her face and my heart stopped. It was a tiny little slimy gray Luke! The nose, the mouth, the chin (the slime… just kidding). I was sold. Forever.
The nurse tidied her up a bit on my tummy, then asked permission to weigh and clean her up (“Yes!” I’m not a fan of slime.). I got stitched up (only a small 2nd degree tear) and chatted with the midwife about the delivery. Both the midwife and the nurse said my type of delivery, as in, first, natural, and that fast, was 1 in 100, or even once per year and that it was amazing for them to be part of. They said I was amazing. I didn’t think so at the time because I felt pretty ragged, but coming from professionals, it was a huge compliment. The nurse also said I was quiet—that I argued with. I felt like I was screaming at the end of each push! I must have been because I was a bit hoarse the next day. Still, compared to others giving natural birth, apparently I did just fine.
We named the baby Adelaide Judith after the city in Australia where Luke and I met and after my dear mother. There was no other name on our minds when we met her! Her nickname will be Addy, in case she ever lives in Adelaide (but she will be a proud Crows supporter either way of course).
Overall, from the time I was assessed to be only 1cm to the point where I was in transition and ready to push was a mere 6 hours. Though my very early labor lasted a while, the progress and speed in the hospital was revered by all the staff who heard the story. I think I left an impression there (I wouldn’t have it any other way).
After 2 nights with Adelaide in the hospital (because she was born in the evening they let me stay an extra night—yay!), we made our journey home.
And now the real adventure begins…
On Sunday October 10 in the afternoon, I felt a sensation I decided to call a contraction, though having never actually felt one before, I really had no idea. I decided to time these “contractions” and found that they were occurring incrementally closer together, but at irregular intervals. Luke cooked me a beautiful dinner and we proceeded as if nothing was happening… Well around 3am, I confirmed for myself that something was indeed happening.
In the night, around 3, these “contractions” started becoming a bit stronger and occurring at regular 10 minute intervals. I tried to doze between them, but found myself glancing at the clock more frequently than anything else. By about 6, I decided to sit up, thinking it might help things move along. It did—by 8am they were about 6-7 minutes apart. Once they reached 5 for an hour, we diligently called labor and delivery who told us, respectfully, not to come in yet. So we tried to doze more for another hour, when I reached the point of near freak-out, not knowing what was really going on in my body and desperately wanting to find out.
We arrived at Kaiser at 10:40am where the triage nurse rather roughly checked me out. She said I was only 1cm dilated and that I should go home or go walking. I said, “You’re crazy, I’m not going anywhere” (in so many words). She got the midwife to check the baby’s position and the midwife also ventured into the argument of why the 1cm dilated nervous-as-heck pregnant lady should go have lunch in downtown Walnut Creek instead of staying at the hospital. I expressed my concerns, specifically around the blood pouring out of my body since the rough exam. She changed the pad and on the next gush I said, “Geez it’s so much,” and she said:
“Actually that was your bag of waters. You’re not going anywhere.”
“WHEW. I knew I wasn’t going to leave…” This was at 11:30am.
She explained that it was still so early on that I would probably be there a long time (well into the night or next day, she was guessing). I said I didn’t care, I was just so happy to not have to decide whether to go home or wander the streets of Walnut Creek!
I was eventually checked in, but by then the contractions were much stronger. Once I got in the labor and delivery room, I sat on the birthing ball for about 20 minutes, but then I had to get in the bed and have an IV because I was Group B Strep positive. I was also on the fetal heart-rate monitor and contraction monitor. This confinement was not ideal. However I soon realized I was quite lightheaded and breathing through contractions was not helping that situation. Luke thought I probably would have stayed in the bed during that time anyways.
Time went on, Luke and Mum helped me through contractions by breathing and concentrating. I said to Mum at one point, “This really sucks. This is so hard.” She agreed or course (you never argue with a woman in labor!). I tried to think about opening and relaxing, but it was so hard because it is your body’s instinct to tighten up when there is pain. I threw up massive amounts on a couple of occasions which was a surprise to both me and Luke (who actually got barfed on, unfortunately—prep for the long haul with a baby I suppose), but not to our wise nurse (ah, the things they don’t tell you in birthing prep class!). I felt like the contractions were getting stronger and stronger and refused offers for music or a movie, like we had planned as distractions during a potentially very long first labor. I didn’t want anything but to get through each contraction.
Finally the antibiotics in the IV were done and I was allowed to get out of bed. This was around 4:15. I had mentioned to the nurse at some stage that I would like to get in the shower for pain relief. She knew and supported my desire to have a natural delivery and never pressured for meds. Luke helped me into the shower where I tried standing for a little while. I moaned through the contractions at this point, because I started feeling like my legs were going to give out on me and my insides were going to come out. I was trembling violently. After a bit I sat on the seat with a hole in the middle with the water on my back and Luke’s wonder-hands massaging. Every time I had a contraction, he would tell me I was doing great and I would sometimes say, “Oh hunny, oh hunny,” never accompanied by swear words or curses. I decided I was done and that this was ridiculous and that I needed something to stop the pain. I thought I was such a wuss and that if I was going to have as long a labor as everyone thought I would that I would need an epidural to get through the worst pain yet to come (I truly could not imagine anything worse). The nurse came in and I said I felt like I needed a bowel movement. Luke said, “Please get the midwife so she can get checked for dilation.” The lovely nurse noticed the strength of my contractions and said, “Oh those are much stronger now.” I thought, “DUH!”
Somehow I got back to the bed and the magical midwife appeared. By this time it was 5pm, 5 and a half hours after my water had broken. I had my mind set that if she told me I was only 4 or 5 centimeters that I would ask for drugs. As I writhed through the exam/contraction, the midwife said, “WOW, actually if you want to you can PUSH.” I felt such relief that I wasn’t a wuss and that this would be over sometime soon. I also felt a twinge of disappointment that I would have to feel the remainder of the delivery. So they helped me set up for pushing and Luke did exactly like we practiced—counting through each push, paced by the midwife (though I liked his fast pace better).
After every contraction, I “relaxed,” wondering how far the head was and how many more times I would have to do this pushing business. I said something like, “I want to have this baby out now please!” The nurse and midwife and Luke said reassuring things like yes she’s coming soon, and asked me if I wanted to see the head in a mirror (“NO!) or feel the top of the head (“NO!). When I was ready to push again, I would say, “OK here it comes—HELP!” And pushing commenced. I pushed for 35 minutes and finally, in 2 big consecutive pushes, out came the baby. At 5:40pm on Monday October 11, 2010, this slimy gray blob appeared on my belly and I was thinking, “No way. That did not just happen. This is not a baby.” Then I saw her face and my heart stopped. It was a tiny little slimy gray Luke! The nose, the mouth, the chin (the slime… just kidding). I was sold. Forever.
The nurse tidied her up a bit on my tummy, then asked permission to weigh and clean her up (“Yes!” I’m not a fan of slime.). I got stitched up (only a small 2nd degree tear) and chatted with the midwife about the delivery. Both the midwife and the nurse said my type of delivery, as in, first, natural, and that fast, was 1 in 100, or even once per year and that it was amazing for them to be part of. They said I was amazing. I didn’t think so at the time because I felt pretty ragged, but coming from professionals, it was a huge compliment. The nurse also said I was quiet—that I argued with. I felt like I was screaming at the end of each push! I must have been because I was a bit hoarse the next day. Still, compared to others giving natural birth, apparently I did just fine.
We named the baby Adelaide Judith after the city in Australia where Luke and I met and after my dear mother. There was no other name on our minds when we met her! Her nickname will be Addy, in case she ever lives in Adelaide (but she will be a proud Crows supporter either way of course).
Overall, from the time I was assessed to be only 1cm to the point where I was in transition and ready to push was a mere 6 hours. Though my very early labor lasted a while, the progress and speed in the hospital was revered by all the staff who heard the story. I think I left an impression there (I wouldn’t have it any other way).
After 2 nights with Adelaide in the hospital (because she was born in the evening they let me stay an extra night—yay!), we made our journey home.
And now the real adventure begins…
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Baby-cation 2010!
We had SUCH a wonderful time in Carmel. We ended up staying at the Monte Verde Inn/Casa de Carmel which is just across Ocean Ave from the Lobos Lodge where Oma and Opa usually stay. It was a perfect little B&B that let us bring the little pooch along. She had a great time running on the beach--we even let her off leash for a while! We enjoyed the "free" wine and cheese every evening at the Inn and Luke definitely enjoyed the "free" sherry that was in the room. We ate dinner the first night at The Grill on Ocean--had the prix fixe menu that was $22.50 for 4 courses (when seated by 6pm)! It was awesome.
The next day we explored the mission, drove south a bit to see some more beaches, and had lunch at the Crossroads shopping center. After naptime, we went to Carmel Plaza to get a special little baby outfit as a souvenir (the first one I've bought for myself!) and to taste delicious cheese at the Cheese Shop, where coincidentally a football friend of Luke's works! So he hooked us up. Even the dog got some . After much pondering and menu hunting, we decided on Pepe's Little Napoli for dinner. We tasted some wine before (I even indulged a bit) and had a beautiful romantic dinner. Then out "on the town" to a dive bar and then a tapas bar for a nightcap and dessert with some excellent music.
The next morning we had one more stroll/hike down to the beach (with a few rests on the way back up, oy prenant lady gets tired fast!) and then off to Monterey for some fish and chips on the way home.
Overall, it was a fast trip but we had such a beautiful time. It was exactly the "baby-cation" we needed before this little one arrives. Can't wait to go back in a few years....
The next day we explored the mission, drove south a bit to see some more beaches, and had lunch at the Crossroads shopping center. After naptime, we went to Carmel Plaza to get a special little baby outfit as a souvenir (the first one I've bought for myself!) and to taste delicious cheese at the Cheese Shop, where coincidentally a football friend of Luke's works! So he hooked us up. Even the dog got some . After much pondering and menu hunting, we decided on Pepe's Little Napoli for dinner. We tasted some wine before (I even indulged a bit) and had a beautiful romantic dinner. Then out "on the town" to a dive bar and then a tapas bar for a nightcap and dessert with some excellent music.
The next morning we had one more stroll/hike down to the beach (with a few rests on the way back up, oy prenant lady gets tired fast!) and then off to Monterey for some fish and chips on the way home.
Overall, it was a fast trip but we had such a beautiful time. It was exactly the "baby-cation" we needed before this little one arrives. Can't wait to go back in a few years....
Saturday, January 23, 2010
In Memoriam
About 20 years ago, I stood in this very spot and gave a speech about “My favorite character” for the annual speech contest. Naturally the speech was about my eccentric and genius father. But every step of the way, all the way to the district finals, there was my mom watching, smiling, modestly cheering me on as I ranted about my dad. Every step of my life, for 30 years, she was there watching, smiling, and waiting to see what I would do next.
Anyone who’s ever had contact with me knows that I have a good imagination. Until about 3 months ago, the one thing I could NOT even fathom or imagine was life without my mother. Couldn’t even comprehend the idea. Needless to say, the imagery of that very event has dominated my mind since then. Somewhat suddenly, we were confronted with the realism of mortality. We decided there is no rhyme or reason to any of it; if a woman like my mother could be touched by cancer, then none of us are safe. The lessons I have learned in this experience are that we have no choice but to live each day as if it is our last, enjoy the kindness of other people, and hug your mother every day.
One thing my mother didn’t want was for people to all sit in a room and cry about her. If we are crying, let it not be out of sadness from our loss, but out of joy for having been so blessed to have my mother in our lives at all. It is so rare that a person is so selfless, genuine, benevolent, and loving, and we must all reflect on what it means to have been influenced by her.
One of the many times she was in the hospital, my dad found random pieces of paper on the kitchen table where she planted herself when she didn’t feel well. One of them said, “I made a difference.” He has it on the fridge now to remind him that one person in the world really can affect the lives of many people in such a positive way. My mother taught over 900 kids in her lifetime, and even some of their kids. Though she’s not physically here to teach us anymore, the message of her life will make a difference in all of us forever.
Thank you for loving my mother.
Anyone who’s ever had contact with me knows that I have a good imagination. Until about 3 months ago, the one thing I could NOT even fathom or imagine was life without my mother. Couldn’t even comprehend the idea. Needless to say, the imagery of that very event has dominated my mind since then. Somewhat suddenly, we were confronted with the realism of mortality. We decided there is no rhyme or reason to any of it; if a woman like my mother could be touched by cancer, then none of us are safe. The lessons I have learned in this experience are that we have no choice but to live each day as if it is our last, enjoy the kindness of other people, and hug your mother every day.
One thing my mother didn’t want was for people to all sit in a room and cry about her. If we are crying, let it not be out of sadness from our loss, but out of joy for having been so blessed to have my mother in our lives at all. It is so rare that a person is so selfless, genuine, benevolent, and loving, and we must all reflect on what it means to have been influenced by her.
One of the many times she was in the hospital, my dad found random pieces of paper on the kitchen table where she planted herself when she didn’t feel well. One of them said, “I made a difference.” He has it on the fridge now to remind him that one person in the world really can affect the lives of many people in such a positive way. My mother taught over 900 kids in her lifetime, and even some of their kids. Though she’s not physically here to teach us anymore, the message of her life will make a difference in all of us forever.
Thank you for loving my mother.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Country Style Ribs
So I decided to make these country style ribs in a crock pot for dinner tonite. They are the last thing I have that we got from my parents' freezer when my mom decided she wasn't going to cook anymore. As I cut off the fat from them, I started crying and haven't been able to stop yet. How stupid! What a weird thing to get upset over. I guess it's just going to be like that. I just felt like I wanted to call and tease her for buying such fatty meat. I miss her so much.
The last couple of days have really made me feel weird, because the last 5 months were so intensely built around spending time with her. Now I have all this time and it's freaking me out. I have time to make ribs in a crock pot, go to a movie with my friend Cat, take on another client for consultation, go to the gym. I just keep thinking how busy I'm going to be, but it will feel like vast empty space compared to how it was before... It's a ridiculous gaping hole. There was one time when mommy told me she was unhappy that people had to spend all this time and energy caring for her. She spent 60 years caring about everyone but herself and she's complaining about people spending 4 months caring for her! She actually felt guilty for that. It became such a MASSIVE part of how I spent my time that now I feel guilty for doing things that in the past made me happy. Somehow I'm not sure anything else will cut it anymore. But what else can I do? Occasionally, there is a sense of relief at having the time to worry about other things. I know she is happy I feel relief--she couldn't stand the thought of me missing out on anything because of her. But the relief is always accompanied by sadness.
I know one thing--that I have to keep living my life for her. The way she wanted me to. And I have to let myself feel sad sometimes and to let it come out however it needs to.
The last couple of days have really made me feel weird, because the last 5 months were so intensely built around spending time with her. Now I have all this time and it's freaking me out. I have time to make ribs in a crock pot, go to a movie with my friend Cat, take on another client for consultation, go to the gym. I just keep thinking how busy I'm going to be, but it will feel like vast empty space compared to how it was before... It's a ridiculous gaping hole. There was one time when mommy told me she was unhappy that people had to spend all this time and energy caring for her. She spent 60 years caring about everyone but herself and she's complaining about people spending 4 months caring for her! She actually felt guilty for that. It became such a MASSIVE part of how I spent my time that now I feel guilty for doing things that in the past made me happy. Somehow I'm not sure anything else will cut it anymore. But what else can I do? Occasionally, there is a sense of relief at having the time to worry about other things. I know she is happy I feel relief--she couldn't stand the thought of me missing out on anything because of her. But the relief is always accompanied by sadness.
I know one thing--that I have to keep living my life for her. The way she wanted me to. And I have to let myself feel sad sometimes and to let it come out however it needs to.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Things to Never Forget
1. The last movie I saw in the theater with my mom was "Time Traveler's Wife." She ate chocolate Nibs and Red Vines.
2. The people at Reyes who cared for my mother are named: Flor, Rosie, and Ling Ling.
3. The last thing my mother said to me was, "I love you."
4. I watched her breathe for 2 hours the evening she passed.
5. My mom painted her nails with lip gloss when she was so bored in bed (and used half a bottle of clear polish).
6. She passed at 12:25 AM on December 31, 2009.
7. When I got the call, I had just turned the last page of "Water for Elephants."
8. Jess came over at 12:45 AM and cried with me. Jess and Yogi spent the entire next day and night and day after that with me.
9. We kissed goodbye to 2009 (good riddance) and welcomed 2010, hoping for better things to come.
10. My mom said, "You are my angel so I'll be your mommy-angel."
11. I feel like my mom is sitting on my shoulder telling me what to do, helping answer questions, and reminding me that she's still here with me.
12. One time when I was visiting, she woke up, looked at me, and said, "Hello pretty girl."
13. The last time I saw her at Reyes, I walked out of the house, got in the car, and on the radio came the song, "Fire and Rain," by James Taylor. There's a line in the song, "I always thought that I'd see you again." I sat in the car and sobbed for a while because in my heart I knew the song was right.
14. When she first moved toe Reyes, I filled an MP3 player with all her favorite music. I put it on in the room, closed the door, and danced for her.
15. On Christmas, I played Somewhere Over the Rainbow on my ukelele. She said, "That's exactly what I wanted for Christmas."
2. The people at Reyes who cared for my mother are named: Flor, Rosie, and Ling Ling.
3. The last thing my mother said to me was, "I love you."
4. I watched her breathe for 2 hours the evening she passed.
5. My mom painted her nails with lip gloss when she was so bored in bed (and used half a bottle of clear polish).
6. She passed at 12:25 AM on December 31, 2009.
7. When I got the call, I had just turned the last page of "Water for Elephants."
8. Jess came over at 12:45 AM and cried with me. Jess and Yogi spent the entire next day and night and day after that with me.
9. We kissed goodbye to 2009 (good riddance) and welcomed 2010, hoping for better things to come.
10. My mom said, "You are my angel so I'll be your mommy-angel."
11. I feel like my mom is sitting on my shoulder telling me what to do, helping answer questions, and reminding me that she's still here with me.
12. One time when I was visiting, she woke up, looked at me, and said, "Hello pretty girl."
13. The last time I saw her at Reyes, I walked out of the house, got in the car, and on the radio came the song, "Fire and Rain," by James Taylor. There's a line in the song, "I always thought that I'd see you again." I sat in the car and sobbed for a while because in my heart I knew the song was right.
14. When she first moved toe Reyes, I filled an MP3 player with all her favorite music. I put it on in the room, closed the door, and danced for her.
15. On Christmas, I played Somewhere Over the Rainbow on my ukelele. She said, "That's exactly what I wanted for Christmas."
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