It's not that I don't think of my mom anymore. I do. I think of her daily, as I always have.
And it's not that I don't feel the need to speak with her anymore, or write down the stories that I want her to know.
It's that I choose to feel that she's with me. Not staring at me or watching me from above, just a part of me. She's gone; she's not coming back; and I've known all along that "talking" to her through this blog was just a gimmick. I just pretend that she's part of me and sees things the way I do. Through my eyes.
Showing posts with label Grief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grief. Show all posts
5/25/12
12/1/11
The Finish Line
It wasn't easier. But I trained less this year. And I gave myself permission before the race to walk if I needed to. But I guess I never really needed to, because I never stopped to walk.
It was different this time. I wasn't doing something for the first time. I wasn't at the brim of tears for achieving something I worked so hard at. It wasn't as emotional. I didn't have as much riding on it. I was just doing something that I now do each year and am really proud of myself for doing.
I shaved a couple of minutes off of my time from last year, but I am not really concerned with time. When I am running the 5K, I only care about finishing. (Said like a true slow runner.)
And, as always, there is no better feeling than the one that you feel when you see Mile Marker 3. Because that means there is only .1 left. And that .1 is the easiest running you'll ever do. It's the type of running that you can do while holding your daughter's hand and smiling. It's feel-good running, and I wish I could capture that feeling and bottle it and use it in other aspects of my life.
This year has been different than the past few. I can't say it's been great, but it's been better. Life without my mom has always been a journey, I've said that before, but there have been times where I've seen the metaphorical Mile Marker 3. Where it's not only no longer a burden to go on, but a joy. There have been times where I've been living in the .1--me: pessimistic, sarcastic Dana, seeing mile 3, moving faster, grabbing my kid's hand, smiling, smooth moving for the last bit of the race, happy to finally cross the finish line.
11/19/11
We Found Love In A Hopeless Place
Yellow diamonds in the light
And we're standing side by side
As your shadow crosses mine
What it takes to come alive
Shine a light through an open door
Love and life I will divide
Turn away cause I need you more
Feel the heartbeat in my mind
11/17/11
11/2/11
Life Goes On
I left home at 17 and went to college in Boston. It was there that I wore baggy jeans and Simple sneakers, gave up red meat for a year, stopped believing in God, questioned authority, and realized that if you don’t like something in your life it’s up to you to change it.
I returned to NJ after graduation and moved in with my parents. My dad expected me to follow his rules, after four years of following my own, and so I moved out at 21 and got myself an apartment.
It’s been my way or the highway ever since.
Don’t like my job? Get a new one.
Don’t like my weight? Change it.
Don’t like my house? Move.
Losing my mom has been the only thing that I have not been able to change. I don’t want to be motherless. I don’t want to raise children without their grandmother. I don’t want to not have her here when I need her. But I can’t change any of that.
That’s why I started this blog. I was looking for a way to cope with something that I could not change. All of my life I’ve been lead to believe that I am in control of my own happiness, and here I was, not happy and not able to change it. I felt stuck. I wanted my mother here and there was no way to make that happen and therefore, I would never be happy again.
I was wrong. But I didn’t know it. It took time.
For the first few years after her death, I felt like I was walking through a dark tunnel. I was trying to get to the end, walking aimlessly with my arms out, reaching for anything that felt familiar, trying to figure out how to get out of this dark hell. Every once in a while I grabbed a hold of something that brought me comfort-- a hobby, an achievement, a memory, a good time—and I thought, “Ok, Dana. Move towards that. That’s the right way.” But then there were times when my eyes refused to acclimate to the darkness, and I lost hold of that good feeling, and I continued on my dark trek through the tunnel.
Lately, however, the tunnel hasn’t been that dark. It’s actually well-lit. There are paintings on the wall and friends at every corner. The ground is carpeted and the bathrooms are spotless. The tunnel isn’t even a tunnel. It’s a wide residential street with large leafy trees. It’s a sunny day. It’s jacket weather. My daughter is riding her bike next to me. My husband is holding my hand. My dog doesn’t want to eat other dogs. My daughter doesn’t have a potty mouth. Greg isn’t lecturing me about leaving my purse on the kitchen counter. I make a stop at Weight Watchers-I’ve lost 10 lbs this week! How awesome. Suddenly I’m jogging down the street. I’m waving to people who are here to cheer me on. My family is holding up signs. My dad is smiling. My sister is running next to me. I’m the winner of the race. The ribbon breaks against my stomach and I get a trophy and I’m laughing and we all break into a flash mob to Jessie J.’s Domino.
Maybe I can change this situation. Maybe bringing my mother back is not the only way to be happy again.
6/21/11
Thoughts
I think of my mom every day and probably will forever. Sometimes it stings and sometimes it doesn’t. I know that they say that if something doesn’t hurt then it no longer means something to you, but I don’t care. I’d rather be able to think of my mom and not have it hurt. I’d rather it just be a thought in my head, along the lines of “buy pull ups” and “dvr Glee.”
Marco, Adriana, and I took my dad out for brunch on Sunday. Afterwards everyone came over to my house to swim. Marco threw everyone in the pool. The family raft was a big hit. Bella fell asleep in the stroller. I made pastina and then ordered pizza. We sat in the shade. Greg kept changing the station. Leah screamed “god bless America” like a mad patriot.
And I didn’t really think of my mom. And it was such a good day.
Yesterday was a good friend’s birthday. Happy Birthday, Gabrielle. Sorry you missed out on your birthday party.
Marco, Adriana, and I took my dad out for brunch on Sunday. Afterwards everyone came over to my house to swim. Marco threw everyone in the pool. The family raft was a big hit. Bella fell asleep in the stroller. I made pastina and then ordered pizza. We sat in the shade. Greg kept changing the station. Leah screamed “god bless America” like a mad patriot.
And I didn’t really think of my mom. And it was such a good day.
Yesterday was a good friend’s birthday. Happy Birthday, Gabrielle. Sorry you missed out on your birthday party.
6/7/11
No Reason
Things are good. So good. Yet I am still not right.
There are milestones and careers and success stories and new schools.
There are open windows and open doors.
There are anticipations, excitements, and things to look forward to. But I have started reaching for the phone to call her again.
I began running again. Running makes me think of my mom. Dieting, eating well, being healthy, being unhealthy, seeing grandmas, reading about people dying in their 50s, pregnant women, shopping, cleaning, lipstick, the vacuum, and the Gin Blossoms. Everything. It’s disgusting, really.
My anxiety is out of control. I can’t stop thinking about how Leah is probably dying every time I’m not with her.
Songs that have nothing to do with moms that have died make me think of my mom that died. I mean, songs that are clearly about other things I think were written with me in mind.
It’s just a minor setback, and I’m sure I’ll come out of it, but it takes a lot out of me and it wears me down.
God, I hope I lose weight tonight at Weight Watchers.*
*My priorities are warped.
.
There are milestones and careers and success stories and new schools.
There are open windows and open doors.
There are anticipations, excitements, and things to look forward to. But I have started reaching for the phone to call her again.
I began running again. Running makes me think of my mom. Dieting, eating well, being healthy, being unhealthy, seeing grandmas, reading about people dying in their 50s, pregnant women, shopping, cleaning, lipstick, the vacuum, and the Gin Blossoms. Everything. It’s disgusting, really.
My anxiety is out of control. I can’t stop thinking about how Leah is probably dying every time I’m not with her.
Songs that have nothing to do with moms that have died make me think of my mom that died. I mean, songs that are clearly about other things I think were written with me in mind.
Never mind, I’ll find someone like you
I wish nothing but the best for you too
Don’t forget me I beg, I remember you said,
Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead.
~Adele
God, I hope I lose weight tonight at Weight Watchers.*
*My priorities are warped.
.
5/8/11
On A Day, In May
It's her day, and it's my day, and we never got the chance to celebrate together.
And today I'm spending the day with Adriana. As per the usual. At the crappy nail salon that we are forced to go to because it's the only one that's open on Sundays.
And, I've decided to turn over a new leaf and bring Leah with us. Up until this year, I've felt like Mother's Day is my day to do whatever I want, however selfish, even if that means not spending the day with my daughter. But this year I realized that wanting to spend the day without my daughter is exactly the opposite of how I want her to feel on this day. When she's older, I hope that she wants to do special things with me on this day, and how horrible is it that I want to be alone? Just because I no longer have a mom to spend the day with? God, Dana, you're such a brat. So, today, Leah gets her first pedicure, Dana will undoubtedly need an early glass of wine, and Adriana will most likely take extra birth control tonight...but, we'll spend it together like we would have done if my mom was still here.
I choose to have Leah with me today because I love her and I want to spend Mother's Day with her.
And because I totally don't have a babysitter.
.
4/21/11
The Healing Corner: Abbe's Story; Part Four
It was Thanksgiving 1983. We had just purchased out first home 4 months prior. The week before I found out I was pregnant with our second child.
Ray III was 3 yrs old. Because I grew up in a Jewish household, I just loved all the Christmas holiday things. The family, the food, the gifts - meaning the shopping, the wrapping and cooking ~ alot of things people thought a chore I thought was fun. Since I was new to all this I also over indulged in shopping and planning.
A few weeks before Christmas I started spotting. I went to the doctor and he told me to stay off of my feet as much as possible.
I did, but it was the holidays and I also had a toddler at home and a husband who worked long hours. Anyone who lived nearby was busy in their own lives.
As usual we were planning to go to North Jersey for Christmas. It felt like one of those changes was going to get the best of us within the next couple of years because we were the only family members that lived down the shore at the time. We could still travel with little Ray, but we felt in the near future we would want him waking up in his own home on Christmas to share the excitement.
It was a bitter cold winter. I mean bitter. Below freezing wind factors.
Christmas Eve day I started spotting more. Then the pain started.....and continued. I couldn't/shouldn't leave my bed. I was hoping I wasn't miscarrying.
Uncle Ray stopped on the way home from work on Christmas Eve, picked up a roast and some fixings that he could put together for us for Christmas dinner at the last minute since we couldn't travel. I told him to go up north with Ray and spend the holiday there. He wouldn't go.
5:30 that morning I woke up in extreme pain and just knew from the depth of my soul I just miscarried. Here is was Christmas morning. I had to call the doctor. He said maybe not, just stay off my feet. I knew differently because the pain stopped out of the blue.
I cried for the baby I just miscarried. I cried because I pulled my husband and son away from the extended family for the day. I will never, ever forget Ray's words to me at that moment....."Abbe, you and Ray are my family. We are here together. This is how it's going to be from now on as our family grows."
That was the turning point in us running up north on Christmas. We realized that our immediate family was important and we had to alter tradition. We found our way over the years how to visit a day or two later. It's was all ok.
Later into the morning I called my friend Colleen to tell her what had just happened. She invited us to stop by later in the evening for dessert with her parents and family. It was the start of a new tradition. Now 27 yrs laters I still stop by late on Christmas night. Through that 27 yrs, she's divorced and has a new segment to her family, Uncle Ray died, her Dad died who always made the plum pudding Uncle Ray craved for every year, the kids have grown, sometimes one of our kids are there, sometimes not....however it falls, it works.
The next morning I went to the doctor and the ultrasound confirmed what I already knew.
.
Ray III was 3 yrs old. Because I grew up in a Jewish household, I just loved all the Christmas holiday things. The family, the food, the gifts - meaning the shopping, the wrapping and cooking ~ alot of things people thought a chore I thought was fun. Since I was new to all this I also over indulged in shopping and planning.
A few weeks before Christmas I started spotting. I went to the doctor and he told me to stay off of my feet as much as possible.
I did, but it was the holidays and I also had a toddler at home and a husband who worked long hours. Anyone who lived nearby was busy in their own lives.
As usual we were planning to go to North Jersey for Christmas. It felt like one of those changes was going to get the best of us within the next couple of years because we were the only family members that lived down the shore at the time. We could still travel with little Ray, but we felt in the near future we would want him waking up in his own home on Christmas to share the excitement.
It was a bitter cold winter. I mean bitter. Below freezing wind factors.
Christmas Eve day I started spotting more. Then the pain started.....and continued. I couldn't/shouldn't leave my bed. I was hoping I wasn't miscarrying.
Uncle Ray stopped on the way home from work on Christmas Eve, picked up a roast and some fixings that he could put together for us for Christmas dinner at the last minute since we couldn't travel. I told him to go up north with Ray and spend the holiday there. He wouldn't go.
5:30 that morning I woke up in extreme pain and just knew from the depth of my soul I just miscarried. Here is was Christmas morning. I had to call the doctor. He said maybe not, just stay off my feet. I knew differently because the pain stopped out of the blue.
I cried for the baby I just miscarried. I cried because I pulled my husband and son away from the extended family for the day. I will never, ever forget Ray's words to me at that moment....."Abbe, you and Ray are my family. We are here together. This is how it's going to be from now on as our family grows."
That was the turning point in us running up north on Christmas. We realized that our immediate family was important and we had to alter tradition. We found our way over the years how to visit a day or two later. It's was all ok.
Later into the morning I called my friend Colleen to tell her what had just happened. She invited us to stop by later in the evening for dessert with her parents and family. It was the start of a new tradition. Now 27 yrs laters I still stop by late on Christmas night. Through that 27 yrs, she's divorced and has a new segment to her family, Uncle Ray died, her Dad died who always made the plum pudding Uncle Ray craved for every year, the kids have grown, sometimes one of our kids are there, sometimes not....however it falls, it works.
The next morning I went to the doctor and the ultrasound confirmed what I already knew.
.
4/19/11
I Have A Dream
The other night I had a dream that I was picking my mom up from the airport. She had been on vacation for 3.5 years. She came out of the terminal with a straw hat on, so I guess she was in the Caribbean.
When I got to the airport I texted her to let her know I was there. And then, when she was coming out of Customs, she texted me that she was almost there.
When we finally met up, I kissed her on the cheek and asked her about the trip. Then I nonchalantly told her about everything she had missed since she had been gone: the birth of Leah, Marco's marriage, Bella. She asked questions about the events and we laughed over what she would have done if she were there.
And then I woke up. Because my damn alarm clock goes off at 5 freaking a.m. Instead of shooting the sh*t with my mom after she went on a three and a stinkin half year vacation, I had to wake up and brush my teeth. Whatever.
**Happy Birthday Marco!! Hope you have a wonderful day!
.
When I got to the airport I texted her to let her know I was there. And then, when she was coming out of Customs, she texted me that she was almost there.
When we finally met up, I kissed her on the cheek and asked her about the trip. Then I nonchalantly told her about everything she had missed since she had been gone: the birth of Leah, Marco's marriage, Bella. She asked questions about the events and we laughed over what she would have done if she were there.
And then I woke up. Because my damn alarm clock goes off at 5 freaking a.m. Instead of shooting the sh*t with my mom after she went on a three and a stinkin half year vacation, I had to wake up and brush my teeth. Whatever.
**Happy Birthday Marco!! Hope you have a wonderful day!
.
4/6/11
Today,
she would have been 58.
she would have known her two granddaughters.
she would have been helping Adriana get ready for the purchase of her first home.
she would have witnessed Marco marry.
she would have been dancing to her heart's content.
she would have been able to prove to this girl how wonderful she was, rather than just have me tell her.
.
she would have known her two granddaughters.
she would have been helping Adriana get ready for the purchase of her first home.
she would have witnessed Marco marry.
she would have been dancing to her heart's content.
she would have been able to prove to this girl how wonderful she was, rather than just have me tell her.
Today would have been a good day.
.
3/27/11
Three Whole Years
Four months and seven days after the anniversary of my mother's death, which goes down as the worst day of my life, we celebrate Leah's birth, which goes down as the best day of my life.
In my 34 years of living on this planet, I have a few accomplishments. But NOTHING makes me prouder than when I look at what Greg and I brought into this world on March 26, 2008.
Happy Birthday, Leah. I've said it before, and I'll say it forever, you truly saved my life.
Now, go pick up your shoes and fortheloveofgod stop throwing your crayons.
In my 34 years of living on this planet, I have a few accomplishments. But NOTHING makes me prouder than when I look at what Greg and I brought into this world on March 26, 2008.
Happy Birthday, Leah. I've said it before, and I'll say it forever, you truly saved my life.
Now, go pick up your shoes and fortheloveofgod stop throwing your crayons.
3/18/11
A Smallish Heart Attack
What is it with children and their need to hide in racks in stores? This is a new thing with Leah. It entertains her to no end and gives me heart palpatations. She's too old and nosey to sit in a stroller. She will follow the, "one hand on the cart" rule for about 35 seconds. But, as soon as I stop to take a look at something, we get this:
.
.
3/7/11
We Are Going To Applebees
You know when you get the feeling that something isn't right, but you can't pinpoint what it is, and, in fact, every other sign is pointing to "completely and totally fine," and because you can't figure out why you feel that it's not right, you just go ahead and do it because if you keep harping on these "just not right" feelings you are going to drive yourself, your family, the lady in front of you in Pathmark, and the 7-11 guy who's ringing up the half and half crazy?
You know that feeling?
Back in August I felt that way about my new job about 3 minutes after I decided to take it. In fact, I felt that way before I even left my new boss' office after he had made the offer and I had accepted. I sat there while he spoke about the position and my start date and my team members and my mind just wandered off into space and I thought, "This is a bad decision, Dana", but I had NO IDEA why I thought that. So I took that thought and threw it in the back of my head, right next to "Join Weight Watchers" and "Stop spending your family's money at Kohls" and it stayed there for the next three weeks while I proceeded to resign from my old job and plan for my new job.
The reasons for leaving my old job were all there. I know that leaving my old job was a good choice. My new job offered more money, more affordable benefits, and was closer to my home, and those were the reasons why I left. Those three things still exist. So, during my last two weeks at my old job--the strange period where you've given notice, yet you still work there, yet your loyalty is now to your new job, but you haven't started yet--when this strange feeling kept popping in my head that this was a bad decision, I would just mentally go over my list for leaving, and check off that each and every item was still being addressed. And then I would tell that stupid thought to just STFU and let me be proud that I was able to leave my comfort zone of idling in a workplace that was never going to let me move up, and that I was taking a leap to a new place where I knew no one and was making better for me and my family.
I started my new job at 8:00 a.m. on September 13, 2010, and at 10:26 a.m. I texted my husband and said, "I don't think this job is going to work out."
Truer words have never been texted before.
I'm not going to go into details, and I don't want to bad-mouth a place in which some of you know the name of, but let me just say that the people who run the place were not keen on treating women equally, and, as if that's not enough, the morals and values and general attitude of those people towards all of their employees is an abomination to human kind. The middle class is not meant to be treated as pawns in a chess game of life being pushed, prodded, manipulated and taken advantage of because we need to work in order to take care of our family.
Shortly after beginning employment there, Greg and I launched what can only be referred to as An Epic Job Search in which he would search for open positions all day long while he was home and then I would apply to them all night long while he was at work. For MONTHS I heard nothing from these places as I dutifully trudged daily to my job, daydreaming about when I would be granted an interview. I would sit at my desk thinking about how it would feel to quit and get the chance to work again at a place where the people were friendly. I would write this blog post in my head, figuring how much information I would let out, and what I should keep private. Day in and day out, as my depression grew, my hope weaned, because no one was calling me back.
And then, I got a phone call! And another! And soon the interviews followed. And in four months I took part in THIRTEEN interviews. I went on five interviews for one position. I was speaking to H.R. Reps, and Hiring Managers, and CEOs, and COOs, and CWTFOs--whoever, as they moved me forward in the process. It was brutal. I was told that it would take a few weeks for a decision to be made, sometimes a few months, or, my favorite, "We've decided to hold off on filling the position indefinitely". I thought it proposterous how a place that found it necessary for me to interview FIVE TIMES with FIVE DIFFERENT PEOPLE could not be sure that the position was necessary in the FIRST PLACE.
A month after starting at my new job a man named Tom began who's desk was near mine. I watched him during his first days when his enthusiasm was high, and how it chipped away as the onion peels of our workplace opened up. By day four we were giving each other looks every time more was revealed about the place. By the beginning of his second week, shared eye rolls were in full effect. A day or two later he told me that he had given notice, being offered a position at another company. I was happy (and jealous) that he was getting out, and longingly stared at my monitor thinking, "Your time will come, Dana". Two days into his two week notice, he was asked to leave and had a few minutes to clear his desk and go. I listened as he picked up the phone, dialed his wife and said, "We are going to Applebees!"
On that last day his whole demeanor was changed. His mood, his attitude, as well. He was a different guy.
He was a person who had a cruddy job at a cruddy place and had found a new job at a promising place and he was going to have some time off and take his spouse out to Applebees!
So it's with great pride and happiness that I inform you that today my demeanor is different, as is my mood and my attitude. Interview number 13 was very lucky indeed.
Tonight, WE ARE GOING TO APPLEBEES.
.
You know that feeling?
Back in August I felt that way about my new job about 3 minutes after I decided to take it. In fact, I felt that way before I even left my new boss' office after he had made the offer and I had accepted. I sat there while he spoke about the position and my start date and my team members and my mind just wandered off into space and I thought, "This is a bad decision, Dana", but I had NO IDEA why I thought that. So I took that thought and threw it in the back of my head, right next to "Join Weight Watchers" and "Stop spending your family's money at Kohls" and it stayed there for the next three weeks while I proceeded to resign from my old job and plan for my new job.
The reasons for leaving my old job were all there. I know that leaving my old job was a good choice. My new job offered more money, more affordable benefits, and was closer to my home, and those were the reasons why I left. Those three things still exist. So, during my last two weeks at my old job--the strange period where you've given notice, yet you still work there, yet your loyalty is now to your new job, but you haven't started yet--when this strange feeling kept popping in my head that this was a bad decision, I would just mentally go over my list for leaving, and check off that each and every item was still being addressed. And then I would tell that stupid thought to just STFU and let me be proud that I was able to leave my comfort zone of idling in a workplace that was never going to let me move up, and that I was taking a leap to a new place where I knew no one and was making better for me and my family.
I started my new job at 8:00 a.m. on September 13, 2010, and at 10:26 a.m. I texted my husband and said, "I don't think this job is going to work out."
Truer words have never been texted before.
I'm not going to go into details, and I don't want to bad-mouth a place in which some of you know the name of, but let me just say that the people who run the place were not keen on treating women equally, and, as if that's not enough, the morals and values and general attitude of those people towards all of their employees is an abomination to human kind. The middle class is not meant to be treated as pawns in a chess game of life being pushed, prodded, manipulated and taken advantage of because we need to work in order to take care of our family.
Shortly after beginning employment there, Greg and I launched what can only be referred to as An Epic Job Search in which he would search for open positions all day long while he was home and then I would apply to them all night long while he was at work. For MONTHS I heard nothing from these places as I dutifully trudged daily to my job, daydreaming about when I would be granted an interview. I would sit at my desk thinking about how it would feel to quit and get the chance to work again at a place where the people were friendly. I would write this blog post in my head, figuring how much information I would let out, and what I should keep private. Day in and day out, as my depression grew, my hope weaned, because no one was calling me back.
And then, I got a phone call! And another! And soon the interviews followed. And in four months I took part in THIRTEEN interviews. I went on five interviews for one position. I was speaking to H.R. Reps, and Hiring Managers, and CEOs, and COOs, and CWTFOs--whoever, as they moved me forward in the process. It was brutal. I was told that it would take a few weeks for a decision to be made, sometimes a few months, or, my favorite, "We've decided to hold off on filling the position indefinitely". I thought it proposterous how a place that found it necessary for me to interview FIVE TIMES with FIVE DIFFERENT PEOPLE could not be sure that the position was necessary in the FIRST PLACE.
A month after starting at my new job a man named Tom began who's desk was near mine. I watched him during his first days when his enthusiasm was high, and how it chipped away as the onion peels of our workplace opened up. By day four we were giving each other looks every time more was revealed about the place. By the beginning of his second week, shared eye rolls were in full effect. A day or two later he told me that he had given notice, being offered a position at another company. I was happy (and jealous) that he was getting out, and longingly stared at my monitor thinking, "Your time will come, Dana". Two days into his two week notice, he was asked to leave and had a few minutes to clear his desk and go. I listened as he picked up the phone, dialed his wife and said, "We are going to Applebees!"
On that last day his whole demeanor was changed. His mood, his attitude, as well. He was a different guy.
He was a person who had a cruddy job at a cruddy place and had found a new job at a promising place and he was going to have some time off and take his spouse out to Applebees!
So it's with great pride and happiness that I inform you that today my demeanor is different, as is my mood and my attitude. Interview number 13 was very lucky indeed.
Tonight, WE ARE GOING TO APPLEBEES.
.
1/21/11
Steel Magnolias
I have a friend who, at 33, became a widow last week.
I have a friend who is 7 months pregnant with her second child and found out earlier in the week that her husband has leukemia.
I have a friend who is separated from her husband, has two children, and was just laid off from her job.
There are women in my life who have experienced death, disease, miscarriage, debt, infertility, drugs and more.
There are times I look at any tragedy I've suffered, and I think, it could be worse, Dana. It could be so much worse. You may not have your mother, but you have your husband, your daughter, your family, your health. Be thankful that it's not worse.
We often look at other people who have endured a horrible experience and think I could never go through that and live. I could never handle that, and then something devastating happens to us, and we find ourselves automatically handling it, going through the motions, making it work, dealing with it, and before you know it, we've lived through it. Through something we never thought we'd be strong enough to endure. And we're still alive. And at times perhaps thriving. And we're stronger than we've ever imagined.
We will all go through our own tragedy. And it will be something that we never thought we'd be able to handle. And we will do it and surprise ourselves.
To the women in my life going through these tough times: You can do it. That's all I can say.
.
I have a friend who is 7 months pregnant with her second child and found out earlier in the week that her husband has leukemia.
I have a friend who is separated from her husband, has two children, and was just laid off from her job.
There are women in my life who have experienced death, disease, miscarriage, debt, infertility, drugs and more.
There are times I look at any tragedy I've suffered, and I think, it could be worse, Dana. It could be so much worse. You may not have your mother, but you have your husband, your daughter, your family, your health. Be thankful that it's not worse.
We often look at other people who have endured a horrible experience and think I could never go through that and live. I could never handle that, and then something devastating happens to us, and we find ourselves automatically handling it, going through the motions, making it work, dealing with it, and before you know it, we've lived through it. Through something we never thought we'd be strong enough to endure. And we're still alive. And at times perhaps thriving. And we're stronger than we've ever imagined.
We will all go through our own tragedy. And it will be something that we never thought we'd be able to handle. And we will do it and surprise ourselves.
To the women in my life going through these tough times: You can do it. That's all I can say.
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12/21/10
The Life I Signed Up For
If my mother had died before I was pregnant, I probably wouldn't have had a child. I wanted a baby, and my mother was going to help me raise it. Package deal.
If my mother hadn't died, Greg and I would have probably taken several weekend trips by now, and maybe even one that lasted five days. Instead of no weekend trips, and nothing close to five days. I don't trust anyone to watch Leah; there's nothing like the trust you have in your mom. We would have been able to do more things with each other, without Leah. Maybe go out to eat more...Christmas shop together...take more trips into NYC.
If my mother was still alive, I probably would have had more children by now. She would have been my house every day in the summer, when she wasn't working, and probably would have used up more of her sick and personal days to spend time with her grandchildren. My nights wouldn't have been parenting solo while Greg worked, and my weekends would not have been attempting to run an errand with a toddler and feeling like I got nothing accomplished.
There would have been more gifts and treats and a lot more spoiling. My children would have run to her when they saw her, got excited when she arrived, and threw fits when she left. They might have even liked spending time with her more than with me.
I never would have been stuck with no sitter. Never would have had to say no to something that I wanted to do because I felt guilty leaving Leah. Never would have felt that all-too-familiar hesitation when I dial a number to request some babysitting.
I never wanted to be a mother if I didn't have my mother with me. I never would have entered into what is the most difficult job I've ever held without her. Never would have created this situation while living 40 minutes away from my closest family, with only one parent who's my dad, while my in-laws live several states away.
And I would have never written this post.
If I seem different to you, uncomfortable, unhappy, and unsettled, you must forgive me. I'm not living the life I signed up for.
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If my mother hadn't died, Greg and I would have probably taken several weekend trips by now, and maybe even one that lasted five days. Instead of no weekend trips, and nothing close to five days. I don't trust anyone to watch Leah; there's nothing like the trust you have in your mom. We would have been able to do more things with each other, without Leah. Maybe go out to eat more...Christmas shop together...take more trips into NYC.
If my mother was still alive, I probably would have had more children by now. She would have been my house every day in the summer, when she wasn't working, and probably would have used up more of her sick and personal days to spend time with her grandchildren. My nights wouldn't have been parenting solo while Greg worked, and my weekends would not have been attempting to run an errand with a toddler and feeling like I got nothing accomplished.
There would have been more gifts and treats and a lot more spoiling. My children would have run to her when they saw her, got excited when she arrived, and threw fits when she left. They might have even liked spending time with her more than with me.
I never would have been stuck with no sitter. Never would have had to say no to something that I wanted to do because I felt guilty leaving Leah. Never would have felt that all-too-familiar hesitation when I dial a number to request some babysitting.
I never wanted to be a mother if I didn't have my mother with me. I never would have entered into what is the most difficult job I've ever held without her. Never would have created this situation while living 40 minutes away from my closest family, with only one parent who's my dad, while my in-laws live several states away.
And I would have never written this post.
If I seem different to you, uncomfortable, unhappy, and unsettled, you must forgive me. I'm not living the life I signed up for.
.
11/21/10
A Contribution From a Friend
A few month's ago my friend Rob sent me a poem. I read it when I received it, and then it sat in my Inbox for a while. Every so often, I'd open it up and read it. It's a great poem and I thought I'd post it.
Now, this poem is quite well known, and so when I read the excerpt that Rob sent me, I knew that the last verse was left off. The last verse is very religious, and while Rob is also very religious, I'm not. And I'm not sure if Rob left off that last verse because he knows how I feel about religion or not, but I like to think that you get the jist of the poem just fine without that last verse. And if you find yourself needing more god after you read this poem, then you should google it, and get your god fix.
Now, this poem is quite well known, and so when I read the excerpt that Rob sent me, I knew that the last verse was left off. The last verse is very religious, and while Rob is also very religious, I'm not. And I'm not sure if Rob left off that last verse because he knows how I feel about religion or not, but I like to think that you get the jist of the poem just fine without that last verse. And if you find yourself needing more god after you read this poem, then you should google it, and get your god fix.
If Tears Could Build a Stairway
If tears could build a stairway
and thoughts a memory lane
I’d walk right up to heaven
and bring you home again.
No Farewell words were spoken
No time to say good-bye
You were gone before I knew it
And only God knows why.
My heart’s still active in sadness
And secret tears still flow
What it meant to lose you
No one can ever know.
But now I know you want us
To mourn for you no more
To remember all the happy times
Life still has much in store.
Since you’ll never be forgotten
I pledge to you today
A hallowed place within my heart
Is where you’ll always stay.
.
.
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11/19/10
Patricia Ellen Grieco 4/6/53-11/19/07
You took my hand
You showed me how
You promised me you'd be around
I took your words
And I believed
In everything
You said to me
Remember when we were such fools
And so convinced and just too cool
I wish I could touch you again
I wish I could still call you friend
I'd give anything
When someone said count your blessings now
'fore they're long gone
I guess I just didn't know how
I was all wrong
They knew better
Still you said forever
And ever
Who knew
I'll keep you locked in my head
Until we meet again
And I won't forget you my friend
What happened
If someone said three years from now
You'd be long gone
I'd stand up and punch them out
Cause they're all wrong and
That last kiss
I'll cherish
Until we meet again
And time makes
It harder
I wish I could remember
But I keep
Your memory
You visit me in my sleep
My darling
Who knew
I miss you
Who knew
11/18/10
My Number's Up
Over the past few weeks, I've won two raffles that I've entered and two tricky tray prizes. This is very unlike me. I usually have no luck whatsoever. I never win anything.
Lately I've been having a tough time with life, in general. Work is stressing me out; there's never enough time in the day; I don't get done even half of the things that I want to do. I feel like I am running after a train that's going a little too fast for me to catch it, but I can't just give up and find another way to travel. I'm stuck in this station, and I'm missing my damn train. Over and over.
But, these four silly things that I've won have given me some hope. Maybe it's a sign that good things are coming. Maybe it's a sign to not give up.
I'm not big on signs. I don't believe those people who say things like my dead mom gave me a sign that she was watching over me when the picture fell off the wall and landed on my head! mainly for two reasons. One, I just don't believe that the dead can send the living signs. But more importantly, if they can, then that means that my mom knows she's dead and she is aware that she's not here. She's seen me struggle over the past three years. She's experienced every tear that I've shed. She's watched me miss her. And if that's the case, then she's probably struggling, crying, and experiencing at the same time. And I don't want her to. I would never want her to know what she's missing.
There is a good aspect about dying suddenly, rather than being sick for a while before passing. When you suddenly die, you don't know what you're going to miss, or that you're going to miss anything, actually. You don't know what you're never going to see again. You don't know how everyone will get to go on living together, while you won't. And most importantly, you don't feel the guilt that you might feel knowing that family and friends are going to mourn you for months, years, decades maybe. When you just up and die one day, you don't even know what just happened. That's sort of a good thing. I guess?
The 19th is a tough day. It's hard for me, my family, and my mom's friends. I don't know if I'll be able to adequately show what the day means to me because I'm not sure how I'll feel on it. I just hope that my luck continues. That my number keeps getting called. That I never give up hope.
Lately I've been having a tough time with life, in general. Work is stressing me out; there's never enough time in the day; I don't get done even half of the things that I want to do. I feel like I am running after a train that's going a little too fast for me to catch it, but I can't just give up and find another way to travel. I'm stuck in this station, and I'm missing my damn train. Over and over.
But, these four silly things that I've won have given me some hope. Maybe it's a sign that good things are coming. Maybe it's a sign to not give up.
I'm not big on signs. I don't believe those people who say things like my dead mom gave me a sign that she was watching over me when the picture fell off the wall and landed on my head! mainly for two reasons. One, I just don't believe that the dead can send the living signs. But more importantly, if they can, then that means that my mom knows she's dead and she is aware that she's not here. She's seen me struggle over the past three years. She's experienced every tear that I've shed. She's watched me miss her. And if that's the case, then she's probably struggling, crying, and experiencing at the same time. And I don't want her to. I would never want her to know what she's missing.
There is a good aspect about dying suddenly, rather than being sick for a while before passing. When you suddenly die, you don't know what you're going to miss, or that you're going to miss anything, actually. You don't know what you're never going to see again. You don't know how everyone will get to go on living together, while you won't. And most importantly, you don't feel the guilt that you might feel knowing that family and friends are going to mourn you for months, years, decades maybe. When you just up and die one day, you don't even know what just happened. That's sort of a good thing. I guess?
The 19th is a tough day. It's hard for me, my family, and my mom's friends. I don't know if I'll be able to adequately show what the day means to me because I'm not sure how I'll feel on it. I just hope that my luck continues. That my number keeps getting called. That I never give up hope.
11/10/10
The Worst 10 Days of My Life, Annually
Three years ago today, the worst day of my life happened. For the next nine days after the 10th of November in 2007, my life ran on autopilot as I attempted to figure out a situation to which no figuring out could fix.
I realized something bad had happened when I overheard the lack of conversation between Greg and my dad on the phone while I was in the bathroom. And I felt a strange wave of doom float over me as I sat in the car on the way to the hospital while Greg filled the tire with air that told me that I didn't want to know what my future child's name would be. I received the worst piece of news I've ever received when Gwen the nurse told me there was no hope while I was holding my mom's hand as she lie in bed in a coma. I ran in and out of the room throughout the first night holding hands with my dad and sister as the code blue lights and beeps would sound, while the staff would run in past us to work on her.
I am so happy that Isabella wasn't born during these 10 days. These horrible, devastating, torturous ten days. Days that were so bad, that when we finally made the decision to pull the plug, we were actually relieved, because these days were coming to an end. These days of limbo, uncertainty, and the most painful pain one could ever endure, were finally going to be over. We were finally getting the hell out of purgatory...
Today I did what I like doing best in my job: I went to the job site and spent a lot of time there.
Today I did something that took my mind off my mom: I tried out my first zumba class.
And, today I did something that reminded me of my mom: I bought some Tupperware.
These 10 days nearly killed me three years ago.
.
.
.
I realized something bad had happened when I overheard the lack of conversation between Greg and my dad on the phone while I was in the bathroom. And I felt a strange wave of doom float over me as I sat in the car on the way to the hospital while Greg filled the tire with air that told me that I didn't want to know what my future child's name would be. I received the worst piece of news I've ever received when Gwen the nurse told me there was no hope while I was holding my mom's hand as she lie in bed in a coma. I ran in and out of the room throughout the first night holding hands with my dad and sister as the code blue lights and beeps would sound, while the staff would run in past us to work on her.
I am so happy that Isabella wasn't born during these 10 days. These horrible, devastating, torturous ten days. Days that were so bad, that when we finally made the decision to pull the plug, we were actually relieved, because these days were coming to an end. These days of limbo, uncertainty, and the most painful pain one could ever endure, were finally going to be over. We were finally getting the hell out of purgatory...
Today I did what I like doing best in my job: I went to the job site and spent a lot of time there.
Today I did something that took my mind off my mom: I tried out my first zumba class.
And, today I did something that reminded me of my mom: I bought some Tupperware.
These 10 days nearly killed me three years ago.
.
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