I'm pissed at my mom.
There. I said it.
You can slice it and dice it any way you'd like, but she's not here any longer because of her desire to be thin. And, not only her desire to be thin--NO--her desire to achieve her goal via a shortcut. She didn't die because of some freak exercising accident, or as a result of a diet gone wrong. She died because she needed to be thin quick and easy. And THAT is why I'm pissed.
Hey, guess what, mom? I would love to be thin too. But rather than undergo some elective surgery that someone with a heart condition probably shouldn't have had in the first place, I spend three days a week running. Yes, my large butt puts on tight pants and a sports bra and an ugly t-shirt and a headband that is so hideous, my two-year old laughs at it. But, it's better than sweating in my eyes. Which, BE TEE DOUBLE-U, I DID FOR THE FIRST TWO RUNS. Because I forgot to bring a headband.
And then, I drag my already-worked-an-entire-day-plus-a-3-hour-commute-haven't-seen-my-daughter-yet-today-butt outside, and I run. There are times that I am sure the oncoming vehicle doesn't see me and I'm going to have to slide into the nearest lawn. There are instances where I can actually feel my butt jiggle. And, the other day? I'm pretty sure the mailman laughed at me. But still, I press on.
And I keep telling myself, Oh, my mother could NEVER run...she could NEVER do a 5K. You know what? That's BS. Because you could have run, if you had ever tried. If doing things the long way, or the right way, or the hard way was of interest to you. But apparently it wasn't.
And so, I get to attend a BBQ where I watch a little boy's grandmother follow him around, doting on his every move. And I get to watch my brother practice changing Leah's diaper for when his daughter his born. And I witness some of Leah's more unsavory behavioral traits wondering what the hell I am doing wrong, and I'm pissed. I'm pissed off that Leah doesn't have what that little boy has. And that Marco won't have you to help. And I can't ask you for advice. And that our lives must go on without you and you could have prevented your death. You didn't have to die.
Don't get me wrong, if you showed up tomorrow claiming you had to fake your death to escape the Armenian mob due to gambling debts, I'd welcome you with open arms and delete this post immediately. But I know you're not living in the Caribbean, working the docks in a fishing village, answering to the name Bernice. I know you're gone. And I know that you didn't have to be.
My life, and the lives of everyone in my family, are forever changed in a horrible way because you died.
And today I'm pissed off about that.
And still I dream she'll come to me,
that we will live the years together.
that we will live the years together.
But there are dreams that cannot be,
and there are storms we cannot weather.
and there are storms we cannot weather.
.
.
.
.
2 comments:
Dana ~~
I get it. I honestly, truly get what you're saying.
The most difficult times that I still go through is when my kids are going through accomplishments like graduations, weddings, etc. I am soooo, sooo proud of them and yet it's so hard to be proud enough for two and stand as one...it's not right, it's not fair and we had these children together. It really rips my insides apart....and yet I honor Uncle Ray for the man he was and that together we led our children to these accomplishments.
So I understand that it hurts like hell....and yet all the hurt can't change a darn thing. Somehow we muster the strength to rebuild the way we feel comfortable in our own skin. Just as I had to figure out the me from the we of a marriage, you are figuring out the me from the we of the parent/child unit.
Doing what feels right to us is the only way to go. The woulda, coulda, shoulda's will haunt us only if we allow it to.
I'll share a little story that I don't think I've ever retold to anyone in the family. Do you know who the motivating factor was when I would get stagnant in weight loss??? Dollars to deenuts you'd never guess....your Dad...yup, you can pop your eyes back in the sockets now - Enzo...he probably doesn't even remember.
I had lost about 20+ plus pounds at the time after a couple of months. It was starting to become evident to other people of my accomplishments.
One Sunday afternoon my family and your Mom and Dad were at Nanny's. Your Mom, Nanny and myself were sitting at the kitchen table doing the girl gossip and the conversation started to focus on me and my weight loss. Your Mom wanted to know every last detail so she could mimic my actions. I could see Nanny was so proud of me as she easily recognized the stubbornness that it takes. Losing weight it pretty elementary - eat right, exercise more, it's not rocket science...however, 95% of weight loss is in your head and how you deal and learn each step of the way.
.......and so as we were conversing your father walked into the kitchen and overheard "one more diet conversation" from your Mom. I think she had just finished some very expensive vitamin diet something or other at the time. He said "who are you kidding? you're going to end up just like Pat, lose some, gain more" ~~ I thought Nanny was going to throw him out of the house - lol. From that moment on I never knew exactly how much inner strength and determination I had inside of me....if nothing else I was never going to say a word about it but was going to prove him wrong come hell or high water...and I did...with time and patience. Whenever I came across weight loss barriers I would think of Enzo's comment and it would just surge me through. Let's not forget I also lived in a house with Uncle Ray who no way in the world wanted to live on rabbit food and would rather relax from a stressful day in front of the tv that get those endorphins working.
I remember a Thanksgiving at Nanny's when I was in my prime of weight loss. Food galore at Nanny's...I ate what I really liked and left the rest. After the dinner dishes were done and before dessert I put on my sneakers and asked if anyone wanted to go for a walk with me around the neighborhood. Not your mother, not Uncle Ray, not your aunts and uncles, not you or your cousins...I still put on my sneakers and walked up and down hills around the house. It felt refreshing and magnificent and as I walked back into the house everyone was hanging over arm chairs and couches feeling lethargic and I felt wonderful! By doing that I was able to make good choices and focus on tastes of my favorite pies for dessert.
...and so the moral of the story it's about our own personal choices in life...what makes us feel good....
Dana....you can do this....dedication is the way to go.....I'm rooting for you all the way!
love,
Aunt Abbe
I'm just putting this out there because I know you keep looking for a reason for your mom's death. Would you have been so determined to run if your weren't so pissed off about your mom dying? I know that you will do everything in your power not to leave your daughter motherless too soon. From the comments left by your relatives, it seems that many have been inspired to lead a healthier lifestyle. Go ahead and be pissed off. You have every right. But you also need to be thankful for whatever it is that keeps you running when you really don't want to because you want to break the cycle of unhealthy living that seems to have plagued your family.
Post a Comment