Friday
Mother's Memories
I was staying at my parent's house to help out after Mom's stroke and dead asleep on the couch when the phone rang.
"Mom... Mom! Turn on the TV. We're at war! We're being attacked!"
It took me a moment to realize my daughter was serious. I signaled to my father to turn on the TV and we watched in horror while mom slept in the bedroom. I told Dad to give her a tranquilizer in her morning pills, so she slept through the worst of it. Dad and I on the other hand sat there glued to the set watching the repeats of the airplanes hitting the World Trade Center. Neither of us said a word.
Worrying about Mom, prevented me to feel anything but numb and disbelieving until I got home a week later to discover that my dear friend's daughter, who worked in the WTC was on the phone with her when it happened.
She explained it to me all so matter of fact. We were talking one minute, and the next there was silence. She has a three year old little boy. My son-in-law's gonna miss her. Did I tell you my daughter was the one who bought me my computer and paid for my lessons? So, how was your visit at your mother's? I hope she's recovering well.
I had all I could do to hold myself together for her sake, but cried all the way home because, only then, did it hit me. This was real, not a movie, not a foggy dream. It happened. And there's no going back. No way to patch it up, fix things, or make it right again.
"Mom... Mom! Turn on the TV. We're at war! We're being attacked!"
It took me a moment to realize my daughter was serious. I signaled to my father to turn on the TV and we watched in horror while mom slept in the bedroom. I told Dad to give her a tranquilizer in her morning pills, so she slept through the worst of it. Dad and I on the other hand sat there glued to the set watching the repeats of the airplanes hitting the World Trade Center. Neither of us said a word.
Worrying about Mom, prevented me to feel anything but numb and disbelieving until I got home a week later to discover that my dear friend's daughter, who worked in the WTC was on the phone with her when it happened.
She explained it to me all so matter of fact. We were talking one minute, and the next there was silence. She has a three year old little boy. My son-in-law's gonna miss her. Did I tell you my daughter was the one who bought me my computer and paid for my lessons? So, how was your visit at your mother's? I hope she's recovering well.
I had all I could do to hold myself together for her sake, but cried all the way home because, only then, did it hit me. This was real, not a movie, not a foggy dream. It happened. And there's no going back. No way to patch it up, fix things, or make it right again.
Thursday
Sweetness Exists!
Came across this when I was trying to remember the goofy movie that this song premiered in. (can you guess?) This is not the original performance. This is the one I can savour, and guess what, for the first time in many, many weeks, I'm relaxed and enjoying the music and visuals. I hope you will too.
Monday
Jazzed
I am so jazzed!
My son has been away at Burning Man. He just left and in on the way back to his home in SF. Still out there in the middle of nowhere and he calls me on his cell phone to share some of the happiness he is feeling.
As a mother of an adult child, I cannot express my gratitude enough. People make jokes about Mommas who try to hold on to their kids after they've grown up, who interfere in their lives. They joke about men who are Momma's boys. So it is painful for us Mom's to hear these kinds of things. We still want a relationship. I still want a relationship with my kids, as adults. Too often they live their lives on their own, and that's okay, but there is a certain loneliness that comes with staying outside of the loop. For years with my daughter, the miles separated us, a church separated us. There were misunderstandings. I didn't know what was going on with her life, or how to be there for her when she wanted me to, and how to back off when she wanted me to.
Now of course with the internet, we all, are much more connected through facebook. My kids, my grandkids are all on it, and we read each other's posts. I get to know them better, their little quirks, their big successes, the process of their growth and more about their lives than ever before. In the process, I hope they are learning about me, too. I hope they are learning to like me more, love me more than if we were all separated as before. I felt I was the mystery mom, they mystery grandma. Even though my great grandkids are not on fb, I learn what's up with them in their daily lives through my grandkids.
So back to Burning Man homecoming. It just thrills me to be called. I wonder if I am the first. Doesn't matter really, but it makes me feel good. I can be someone to share with. I can be a support. I can be an ear to listen, and occasional an opinion to be stated. Whether it is used or not is beside the point, at least I get listened to. Perhaps it gets filed away for future use, and I know that's true, because I have seen it happen. So for all the young people out there who groan to think they don't want Mom to be in their lives, I hope they can give it another viewpoint and see that their is a possibility that a parent can be a friend of sorts. I know I can never be the same kind of friends as actual peers, but that's okay. I know I fit into another kind of slot.
So now, off the phone and him going to go get something to eat on the way home, I express my joy here and hope we can still be close.
He mentioned something about his realization that family means a lot to me, and that is why I have such a hard time grieving the death of my cat. Because she was family to me. Like a child even. Her twenty years with me were deeper. she didn't go away to school. She didn't develop an independence away from me. Yes, we clung to each other. I'm sure that if I died first, she would have grieved for me. Stopped eating maybe, walk around the house and yeowl. Not be happy at another person's home. Get withdrawn and hide in a closet or under a dresser and just want to be alone. Hmmm. that sounds a little like me.
He also mentioned he wondered how I would be if he or one of his sisters were to die, how would I react. I'm sure it would be worse. It would be harder on me than this. And I dread it. Same if Kats died. I don't know how I would manage if any of my family died. It is hard enough as it is that Keli died. I know there would be differing degrees of grief for each one. Maybe my grandchildren would be less grief for me than my own kids. At least I'm thinking it would be. And great grandkids. Though I love them dearly, perhaps less. I think it is proximity that would be part of that, and how much regular intimate communication. With Therese, I don't know. Would I feel disconnected as I do now. Don't know how to reach her as it is. A stranger practically. It seems when we do connect it is too easy for misunderstandings to form. But, then I wonder would I grieve the most because she was the one lost to me? All those years of thinking about her, wondering how she was, feeling at a loss that she was gone, wondering if there could have been anything I could have done different. Feeling guilty for my ignorance at the time, that it didn't have to be the way it turned out. Already have grieved over her for a long long time. But if she died, would my grief be based upon the fact that we never did connect in a true sense to at least be friends. She is so much like me. It would be so easy to like her, to love her, and to enjoy her in my life. would I greive so much harder because we never got to heal the wounds?
My son has been away at Burning Man. He just left and in on the way back to his home in SF. Still out there in the middle of nowhere and he calls me on his cell phone to share some of the happiness he is feeling.
As a mother of an adult child, I cannot express my gratitude enough. People make jokes about Mommas who try to hold on to their kids after they've grown up, who interfere in their lives. They joke about men who are Momma's boys. So it is painful for us Mom's to hear these kinds of things. We still want a relationship. I still want a relationship with my kids, as adults. Too often they live their lives on their own, and that's okay, but there is a certain loneliness that comes with staying outside of the loop. For years with my daughter, the miles separated us, a church separated us. There were misunderstandings. I didn't know what was going on with her life, or how to be there for her when she wanted me to, and how to back off when she wanted me to.
Now of course with the internet, we all, are much more connected through facebook. My kids, my grandkids are all on it, and we read each other's posts. I get to know them better, their little quirks, their big successes, the process of their growth and more about their lives than ever before. In the process, I hope they are learning about me, too. I hope they are learning to like me more, love me more than if we were all separated as before. I felt I was the mystery mom, they mystery grandma. Even though my great grandkids are not on fb, I learn what's up with them in their daily lives through my grandkids.
So back to Burning Man homecoming. It just thrills me to be called. I wonder if I am the first. Doesn't matter really, but it makes me feel good. I can be someone to share with. I can be a support. I can be an ear to listen, and occasional an opinion to be stated. Whether it is used or not is beside the point, at least I get listened to. Perhaps it gets filed away for future use, and I know that's true, because I have seen it happen. So for all the young people out there who groan to think they don't want Mom to be in their lives, I hope they can give it another viewpoint and see that their is a possibility that a parent can be a friend of sorts. I know I can never be the same kind of friends as actual peers, but that's okay. I know I fit into another kind of slot.
So now, off the phone and him going to go get something to eat on the way home, I express my joy here and hope we can still be close.
He mentioned something about his realization that family means a lot to me, and that is why I have such a hard time grieving the death of my cat. Because she was family to me. Like a child even. Her twenty years with me were deeper. she didn't go away to school. She didn't develop an independence away from me. Yes, we clung to each other. I'm sure that if I died first, she would have grieved for me. Stopped eating maybe, walk around the house and yeowl. Not be happy at another person's home. Get withdrawn and hide in a closet or under a dresser and just want to be alone. Hmmm. that sounds a little like me.
He also mentioned he wondered how I would be if he or one of his sisters were to die, how would I react. I'm sure it would be worse. It would be harder on me than this. And I dread it. Same if Kats died. I don't know how I would manage if any of my family died. It is hard enough as it is that Keli died. I know there would be differing degrees of grief for each one. Maybe my grandchildren would be less grief for me than my own kids. At least I'm thinking it would be. And great grandkids. Though I love them dearly, perhaps less. I think it is proximity that would be part of that, and how much regular intimate communication. With Therese, I don't know. Would I feel disconnected as I do now. Don't know how to reach her as it is. A stranger practically. It seems when we do connect it is too easy for misunderstandings to form. But, then I wonder would I grieve the most because she was the one lost to me? All those years of thinking about her, wondering how she was, feeling at a loss that she was gone, wondering if there could have been anything I could have done different. Feeling guilty for my ignorance at the time, that it didn't have to be the way it turned out. Already have grieved over her for a long long time. But if she died, would my grief be based upon the fact that we never did connect in a true sense to at least be friends. She is so much like me. It would be so easy to like her, to love her, and to enjoy her in my life. would I greive so much harder because we never got to heal the wounds?
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