It seems to me that the people I love are surrounded by loss lately. I am not so naive as to think that these types of experiences are exclusive to myself, but I kind of feel like this is excessive. Yesterday my father lost his best friend of 50 plus years to cancer. This is a man who is as much a part of my mental furniture as any other childhood memory. He was always a part of my dad's life, and therefore mine. The two have known each other since they were five years old; best friends for an entire lifetime. How do you go from having someone constantly in your life to never seeing them again?
Unfortunately, I can answer that question. The long list of people in my life who have passed on has taught me, and now been reinforced again, that every single second matters. Every second counts. Every moment I share with loved ones could be my last. I'm not trying to be negative or sound like I expect death to knock at people's doors all the time, I'm just trying to take all this sadness and make it mean something. I think of all the time I have wasted, and it makes me sad. Wasted moments being wrapped up in the trivial, mundane things that are all too easy to get lost in are numerous. How many times have I just sat in front of the television, blocking out the world? How many times have I not picked up the phone to call someone just to say I love you, or I'm thinking of you? How many times have I not reached out to someone because I was nervous or afraid? Sadly, the answer is many...so many.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Make every day, every hour, every moment of your life matter. I need to stop being wrapped up in trivial things and forcibly remember that I don't have forever to live. I may not have the option of living later, so I have to do it now. We only have now. That's it. Live right now.
R.I.P. Radar. You'll be missed. Thank you for sharing yourself with my dad.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Inspiration
As life moves in its brand of monotony, once in a while I run into some inspiration. I've blogged at great length about my goals and dreams, and my frustrations in not being able to see those things come to pass as quickly as I'd like. These moments of inspiration I speak of are what keep me going, trying, wanting...these moments keep me from giving up. The thing in my life that's on my mind the most these days is my novel. I've been writing for over a year now - I don't actually remember when I started, but it's got to be over a year, maybe two. I've promised myself I'd finish the first draft of it this year. By the end of 2012, I will be ready to start editing and revising it.
My inspiration comes from many things right now. First, last month I completed my first freelance writing project. Here it is, if you're interested: http://www.amazon.com/gp/reader/B00703PS7A/ref=sib_dp_kd#reader-link It was a very positive process, and in the end, I'm proud of my work. And what a thrill to see my name on the front of a book! I've been published for small pieces before; poetry and such, but this, this is the biggest thing I've done. To see my name in print makes me believe that I just might have what it takes to write a good novel.
As it sits right now, this moment, I have written over 18 chapters of my young adult novel. The main character is from my heart, and embodies a young woman who is struggling to find her own strength, as well as connect to another human being in a meaningful way. 95 180 words later, I think I have the start of what could be a fantastic book. It's exciting to see how far I've come and how much I've written. This too is incredibly inspiring! It's already 175 single spaced typed pages long, and I can see the end coming. I can see the story wrapping up, as I bring it to the climax and bring all the pieces together. Thrilling. Absolutely thrilling.
Another source of inspiration is the people around me. How I came to have such wonderful, encouraging people in my life, I don't really know. I've recently sent the entire unfinished mess to a friend, who is constantly encouraging me and telling me it will happen. I don't think she has any idea how much that means to me. I see it. I picture it. I visualize this thing being a success. The thing that I find most inspiring, is that other people see it too. She tells me this is going to happen, and I believe it! It's amazing what belief can accomplish, and at this moment, I really really believe in it.
In the back of my mind, there's always that nagging bit of inadequacy that has followed me all my life. I hear things like, "What if I'm kidding myself and it's no good?" "What if people are just placating me, and I have no talent?" "What if people just won't like it?" These thoughts are so damaging, and inspiration helps them go away. Writing this novel is like putting myself on the page, completely bare. It all came from me. Every word is mine, and I guard it and cherish it. It's the ultimate in being vulnerable to share something like this with the world. You set yourself up for criticism, ridicule, failure. But what I know is that it's completely worth it! To see your dream working itself out on the page, and knowing that there's a possibility that it could be loved by someone just as much as you love it - priceless!
So, right now I'm feeling inspired and excited. I can't wait to finish this draft and move on to the edit and revise stage, and pull the whole story together. I can't wait to see it in one piece!
My inspiration comes from many things right now. First, last month I completed my first freelance writing project. Here it is, if you're interested: http://www.amazon.com/gp/reader/B00703PS7A/ref=sib_dp_kd#reader-link It was a very positive process, and in the end, I'm proud of my work. And what a thrill to see my name on the front of a book! I've been published for small pieces before; poetry and such, but this, this is the biggest thing I've done. To see my name in print makes me believe that I just might have what it takes to write a good novel.
As it sits right now, this moment, I have written over 18 chapters of my young adult novel. The main character is from my heart, and embodies a young woman who is struggling to find her own strength, as well as connect to another human being in a meaningful way. 95 180 words later, I think I have the start of what could be a fantastic book. It's exciting to see how far I've come and how much I've written. This too is incredibly inspiring! It's already 175 single spaced typed pages long, and I can see the end coming. I can see the story wrapping up, as I bring it to the climax and bring all the pieces together. Thrilling. Absolutely thrilling.
Another source of inspiration is the people around me. How I came to have such wonderful, encouraging people in my life, I don't really know. I've recently sent the entire unfinished mess to a friend, who is constantly encouraging me and telling me it will happen. I don't think she has any idea how much that means to me. I see it. I picture it. I visualize this thing being a success. The thing that I find most inspiring, is that other people see it too. She tells me this is going to happen, and I believe it! It's amazing what belief can accomplish, and at this moment, I really really believe in it.
In the back of my mind, there's always that nagging bit of inadequacy that has followed me all my life. I hear things like, "What if I'm kidding myself and it's no good?" "What if people are just placating me, and I have no talent?" "What if people just won't like it?" These thoughts are so damaging, and inspiration helps them go away. Writing this novel is like putting myself on the page, completely bare. It all came from me. Every word is mine, and I guard it and cherish it. It's the ultimate in being vulnerable to share something like this with the world. You set yourself up for criticism, ridicule, failure. But what I know is that it's completely worth it! To see your dream working itself out on the page, and knowing that there's a possibility that it could be loved by someone just as much as you love it - priceless!
So, right now I'm feeling inspired and excited. I can't wait to finish this draft and move on to the edit and revise stage, and pull the whole story together. I can't wait to see it in one piece!
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
And Real Life Resumes...
I recently went on vacation with some of my best friends. It was fantastic to get away from the grind of daily life, and for once, think only of myself and what I wanted. Now though, I've been finding that the crushing reality of life is difficult to get back into smoothly. I hear this is common when you return from a vacation (not that I would know, this is a first), but when you come home, have to adjust back into life, and are confronted with some very emotional issues right away, it makes it that much harder.
Today is better than yesterday. Yesterday, I couldn't eat, hadn't slept and was just generally a mess (this is how I deal with pain as of late, and honestly, I'd rather go back to emotional eating). Today, after sleeping a lot last night, I am starting to feel somewhat normal, physically. I have been forcing myself to eat, no easy task at the moment, and I had some coffee, which made my stomach turn yesterday. Pretty much all I want is water, which I suppose, it at least something.
Life is so funny. For some time I've been wrapped up in something that, in retrospect, has been taking me down a path I shouldn't go down. I've been restless, unhappy with my circumstances, and wanting things that I can't have at this point in my life. While the end of this situation is painful - heartbreaking actually - I am beginning to see that I really have to get back to my core, and be happy with what I've got right now. I want to move into a new phase of life so much it hurts sometimes, but I can't make time go faster. I can't change things today. I can put things in motion, get things moving, still dream, but for what feels like such a long time, I've been only focusing on what I want to happen, not what's happening right now. And real life is right now. Real life is my kids, my husband, my sister, my job. Real life is writing my book, which I will finish this year. I've lost sight of the fact that real life is good. I've forgotten that what I have in this moment is not something to take for granted. What blessings I have. I've been so busy wanting more and other things, that I've forgotten what I have.
It's so easy to get wrapped up in your dreams and ambitions, and forget that what you have is beautiful too. There's nothing saying I can't have what I want in the future, most of it, but that's the point. It's the future. And we are not guaranteed anything but this moment. I've struggled throughout my life with being caught up in the future and not living in the moment. Today, I choose not to do that. Today I choose to put my pent up energy into the people around me who love me and need me. To love my kids, who make me so happy I can't even describe it. To love my husband, who deserves it more than I give. To love my sister, who's every breath is a blessing to my life. To love my job, the kids I care for, the fact that I can watch my babies grow up every day. And so, real life resumes. And what a life I have.
Today is better than yesterday. Yesterday, I couldn't eat, hadn't slept and was just generally a mess (this is how I deal with pain as of late, and honestly, I'd rather go back to emotional eating). Today, after sleeping a lot last night, I am starting to feel somewhat normal, physically. I have been forcing myself to eat, no easy task at the moment, and I had some coffee, which made my stomach turn yesterday. Pretty much all I want is water, which I suppose, it at least something.
Life is so funny. For some time I've been wrapped up in something that, in retrospect, has been taking me down a path I shouldn't go down. I've been restless, unhappy with my circumstances, and wanting things that I can't have at this point in my life. While the end of this situation is painful - heartbreaking actually - I am beginning to see that I really have to get back to my core, and be happy with what I've got right now. I want to move into a new phase of life so much it hurts sometimes, but I can't make time go faster. I can't change things today. I can put things in motion, get things moving, still dream, but for what feels like such a long time, I've been only focusing on what I want to happen, not what's happening right now. And real life is right now. Real life is my kids, my husband, my sister, my job. Real life is writing my book, which I will finish this year. I've lost sight of the fact that real life is good. I've forgotten that what I have in this moment is not something to take for granted. What blessings I have. I've been so busy wanting more and other things, that I've forgotten what I have.
It's so easy to get wrapped up in your dreams and ambitions, and forget that what you have is beautiful too. There's nothing saying I can't have what I want in the future, most of it, but that's the point. It's the future. And we are not guaranteed anything but this moment. I've struggled throughout my life with being caught up in the future and not living in the moment. Today, I choose not to do that. Today I choose to put my pent up energy into the people around me who love me and need me. To love my kids, who make me so happy I can't even describe it. To love my husband, who deserves it more than I give. To love my sister, who's every breath is a blessing to my life. To love my job, the kids I care for, the fact that I can watch my babies grow up every day. And so, real life resumes. And what a life I have.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
A Day in My Life
Today my morning started off not so great. Firstly, as usual, the alarm went off when I wasn't ready for it. I hit the snooze button not once, but twice, then had to rush to have the world's quickest shower and dress before my day home opened. Then, as children began to arrive, and I had to move quickly to feed and dress my own children and get my 7 year old out the door for school, I discovered that some of my day home children were, for lack of a better word, cranky. Early naps for them, and lots of coffee for me and a quiet table top activity of plasticine and cut out tools has given me a moment of quiet and reprieve. It won't last long.
Even now, as I type, I have to keep reminding my 2 year old not to eat the plasticine, and I can hear one of the babies stirring over the monitor. In half an hour I will begin preparing lunch for 5 children, probably forgetting to feed myself until later in the afternoon when my stomach reminds me that I too need more fuel than just coffee. Then my afternoon will be comprised of cleaning up after the little ones, who inevitiably throw a lot of the food I have so thoughtfully prepared for them, keeping in mind that I need to give them a meal with 4 food groups and healthy ingredients, onto the floor. Whether my 2 year old will nap this afternoon or not is a bit of a crapshoot. If she does, we'll have some quiet, if not, she will be nice and cranky by supper time, and yet more food will end up on the floor. You have no idea how many times I sweep and wipe and mop my floor every single day.
Then, because it's a beautiful day, I will take the kids outside. Three children under the age of 2, and one 4 year old, all needing boots, mitts, jackets, snowpants, and all of their gear on just to walk four or five steps to my back yard takes about twenty minutes. Then, I let them run around, play, get dirty...all except for the littlest baby who will eat things off the ground if I put her down. But she doesn't want to be held either, and doesn't want to sit in a stroller or wagon...so it's a constant keep-my-eyes-peeled-for-random-objects-in-her-mouth kind of afternoon. But, this is my job. It's what I do.
Next, craft time. With family day approaching, my theme this week after Valentine's is families (duh). So, we will make some kind of family themed craft, which will involve glue, markers and a great many other messy, have-to-clean-up-again kinds of things. And of course, I will have to make sure the babies don't get a hold of the markers, oh my. That is always a disaster. This is why they make washable markers...
Then, after nap time is over and crafts are finished and cleaned up marginally, my 7 year old returns from school with all her boisterous noise and energy. This is the craziest part of my day, hands down. The time between 3:30 and 6:00 when my day home is closed is always nuts. I have to make sure kids are changed, fed snacks, entertained and packed up ready to go for their parents, while doing dishes (because let's face it, I haven't even touched them yet today and I have to have some clean plates for supper) and cooking a meal. PS. I hate cooking. It happens every single time that a parent arrives in the middle of something bubbling over on the stove top or charring black in the pan. You're welcome family. Enjoy.
After supper is a frenzy of cleaning, homework, showering children, stories, bed, sanitizing toys, bathrooms, surfaces, and planning for the next day. I try to get all this done by 9:00, so I can actually sit down and have some time with my husband, watch a few television shows, work on writing projects, or sometimes, I just fall asleep on the couch. And of course, the whole time, I am making sure I'm connected to whatever social media outlet I use... Have to be plugged in at all times.
That's pretty much a day in my life. And, I can't really complain. While it's busy, and I'm usually really tired, it's worth the effort to soak in the moments I treasure with my kids and my family. Today, so far has been hectic, (it's actually taken me the majority of the day to even finish this post), but I am thankful. It started off on a sour note, but that doesn't have to dictate the whole day. So there it is. Another day I am thankful to be alive.
"Doesn't matter if glass is half empty or full, what matters is whether you have a glass." Octavia Spencer
Even now, as I type, I have to keep reminding my 2 year old not to eat the plasticine, and I can hear one of the babies stirring over the monitor. In half an hour I will begin preparing lunch for 5 children, probably forgetting to feed myself until later in the afternoon when my stomach reminds me that I too need more fuel than just coffee. Then my afternoon will be comprised of cleaning up after the little ones, who inevitiably throw a lot of the food I have so thoughtfully prepared for them, keeping in mind that I need to give them a meal with 4 food groups and healthy ingredients, onto the floor. Whether my 2 year old will nap this afternoon or not is a bit of a crapshoot. If she does, we'll have some quiet, if not, she will be nice and cranky by supper time, and yet more food will end up on the floor. You have no idea how many times I sweep and wipe and mop my floor every single day.
Then, because it's a beautiful day, I will take the kids outside. Three children under the age of 2, and one 4 year old, all needing boots, mitts, jackets, snowpants, and all of their gear on just to walk four or five steps to my back yard takes about twenty minutes. Then, I let them run around, play, get dirty...all except for the littlest baby who will eat things off the ground if I put her down. But she doesn't want to be held either, and doesn't want to sit in a stroller or wagon...so it's a constant keep-my-eyes-peeled-for-random-objects-in-her-mouth kind of afternoon. But, this is my job. It's what I do.
Next, craft time. With family day approaching, my theme this week after Valentine's is families (duh). So, we will make some kind of family themed craft, which will involve glue, markers and a great many other messy, have-to-clean-up-again kinds of things. And of course, I will have to make sure the babies don't get a hold of the markers, oh my. That is always a disaster. This is why they make washable markers...
Then, after nap time is over and crafts are finished and cleaned up marginally, my 7 year old returns from school with all her boisterous noise and energy. This is the craziest part of my day, hands down. The time between 3:30 and 6:00 when my day home is closed is always nuts. I have to make sure kids are changed, fed snacks, entertained and packed up ready to go for their parents, while doing dishes (because let's face it, I haven't even touched them yet today and I have to have some clean plates for supper) and cooking a meal. PS. I hate cooking. It happens every single time that a parent arrives in the middle of something bubbling over on the stove top or charring black in the pan. You're welcome family. Enjoy.
After supper is a frenzy of cleaning, homework, showering children, stories, bed, sanitizing toys, bathrooms, surfaces, and planning for the next day. I try to get all this done by 9:00, so I can actually sit down and have some time with my husband, watch a few television shows, work on writing projects, or sometimes, I just fall asleep on the couch. And of course, the whole time, I am making sure I'm connected to whatever social media outlet I use... Have to be plugged in at all times.
That's pretty much a day in my life. And, I can't really complain. While it's busy, and I'm usually really tired, it's worth the effort to soak in the moments I treasure with my kids and my family. Today, so far has been hectic, (it's actually taken me the majority of the day to even finish this post), but I am thankful. It started off on a sour note, but that doesn't have to dictate the whole day. So there it is. Another day I am thankful to be alive.
"Doesn't matter if glass is half empty or full, what matters is whether you have a glass." Octavia Spencer
Friday, February 10, 2012
Regret: A Memorial
I am not one to live with regrets. It's something that I feel is counter productive - much like the feeling of guilt. Guilt and regret go hand in hand, and there is really nothing good that comes from holding onto either feeling if one is to live a happy and full life. They do have some purpose though. My thinking is that guilt and regret serve to help a person change so they don't come across similar situations in the future. But once a change has taken place, that regret shouldn't reside in you.
That said, I am feeling pangs of regret this week. Monday was my grandad's memorial service, and my family and I went. It was very casual, as he would have wanted, and some of his old friends and family got up to tell stories about him. It was open to everyone. The thing I regret is not saying anything. At the time, I could think of absolutely nothing to say. Isn't that horrible? I wasn't close with him, but in the past few years, I had gotten to know him a little differently, especially when his health began to decline. There was love between us, and I regret not sharing that. So, I thought, to help myself let go of this, I would write about it. This is what I should have said:
My grandad wasn't a man of many words. He was a man's man; a hockey playing, beer drinking, rodeo man. He was, for lack of a better word to describe him, tough. I don't have any funny stories about him, but there are a few things that he gave me. I will take these things with me for the rest of my life, in his memory. My grandad and I didn't have long phone conversations, or even long visits, but I know that he thought of me. He never missed sending me a birthday card and Christmas card, even after my grandma passed. He would always put something in the card, be it cash or a gift certificate. I know for a fact that he thought of me.
Grandad wasn't the most affectionate person either. But what I remember of him was that he always had a smile ready for me. Usually, when I visited my grandma, Grandad was on the couch watching some kind of sport, but he always had a smile. I always knew he had a soft spot for me. I knew he looked forward to my visits. When he was moved into palliative care, he would light up when we came into the room. My visits, noisy children and all, seemed to bring him happiness.
From my grandad, I will take a kind of strength and resilience you rarely see these days. That man could withstand just about anything. He had terminal cancer, and wasn't supposed to live as long as he did, but he continued on. He was in pain, but he rarely complained. He kept pushing. In my last conversation with him, he told me that he'd be seeing lots more of me, and not to worry. The man had a collapsed lung, a broken hip and was experiencing kidney failure, but he wouldn't give up. He told me he loved me. I held his hand and cried. He had absolutely no physical strength, but wouldn't let go. He was amazingly resilient. In the end, his ailments overtook him, but I can tell you this: he fought tooth and nail.
I will take a knowledge that though he didn't really know how to show it, he loved me. He thought of me, and he enjoyed my company. I will always remember his strength.
Thanks Grandad. I hope you are at peace now.
That said, I am feeling pangs of regret this week. Monday was my grandad's memorial service, and my family and I went. It was very casual, as he would have wanted, and some of his old friends and family got up to tell stories about him. It was open to everyone. The thing I regret is not saying anything. At the time, I could think of absolutely nothing to say. Isn't that horrible? I wasn't close with him, but in the past few years, I had gotten to know him a little differently, especially when his health began to decline. There was love between us, and I regret not sharing that. So, I thought, to help myself let go of this, I would write about it. This is what I should have said:
My grandad wasn't a man of many words. He was a man's man; a hockey playing, beer drinking, rodeo man. He was, for lack of a better word to describe him, tough. I don't have any funny stories about him, but there are a few things that he gave me. I will take these things with me for the rest of my life, in his memory. My grandad and I didn't have long phone conversations, or even long visits, but I know that he thought of me. He never missed sending me a birthday card and Christmas card, even after my grandma passed. He would always put something in the card, be it cash or a gift certificate. I know for a fact that he thought of me.
Grandad wasn't the most affectionate person either. But what I remember of him was that he always had a smile ready for me. Usually, when I visited my grandma, Grandad was on the couch watching some kind of sport, but he always had a smile. I always knew he had a soft spot for me. I knew he looked forward to my visits. When he was moved into palliative care, he would light up when we came into the room. My visits, noisy children and all, seemed to bring him happiness.
From my grandad, I will take a kind of strength and resilience you rarely see these days. That man could withstand just about anything. He had terminal cancer, and wasn't supposed to live as long as he did, but he continued on. He was in pain, but he rarely complained. He kept pushing. In my last conversation with him, he told me that he'd be seeing lots more of me, and not to worry. The man had a collapsed lung, a broken hip and was experiencing kidney failure, but he wouldn't give up. He told me he loved me. I held his hand and cried. He had absolutely no physical strength, but wouldn't let go. He was amazingly resilient. In the end, his ailments overtook him, but I can tell you this: he fought tooth and nail.
I will take a knowledge that though he didn't really know how to show it, he loved me. He thought of me, and he enjoyed my company. I will always remember his strength.
Thanks Grandad. I hope you are at peace now.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
When it Rains...
Do you ever have months where everything goes wrong? Do you have times in your life that seem like the whole world is falling down around you? Well, I'm happy to say goodbye to a month like that. This January has been a very emotionally draining month for me, and I'm looking forward to an easier, more exciting February. It WILL be good. It has to be, because quite frankly, I'm done with emotional stress.
It seems like that old saying, "When it rains, it pours" is so incredibly accurate. I've talked to more than one person that has had a month like this, and what a way to start a new year! I am determined to have a spectacular year, but it's going to have to start with February. January doesn't count. I'm going to pretend that it never happened (well, not really, but I want to wipe the slate clean and start my year now). In February, there are, of course, things I am still dealing with. My grandfather passed away last weekend, and we are having his memorial. The residual emotional turmoil from other issues in my life isn't completely resolved, but I am adamant that it will be, and everyone involved will be better for it. I won't accept anything less.
I realize that I am not completely in control of my circumstances, but I am completely in control of my reactions to them. I can't control other people, their feelings, their problems, but I can most definitely control myself. And I intend to.
So, what can I look forward to in February? Well, first is my daughter's seventh birthday. I can't believe I have a seven year old! But she is remarkable, and I am excited to celebrate it. Next, I've got more motivation to do fun and exciting things in my day home, and after a very long time of feeling unmotivated and overwhelmed, I am ready to step it up a notch and do my job even better than before. (Maybe it's the sunshine?) Lastly, I am going on a vacation with some of my very best girl friends at the end of the month, and I am so excited I can hardly stand it! Talk about a necessary break! I think it will be just what I need, and the anticipation of it is just as good. I got my passport in the mail last week (no, I didn't have one!) and I just about jumped out of my skin! I literally jumped up and down, and screamed with excitement. I did. I just about kissed the mailman, and that's the truth.
The one thing I know about life is that after having a month like I just did, there is bound to be a light at the end of the tunnel, to quote another cliche. Things have been so stressful that there just has to be an end, and I truly think it is in sight. I look forward to saying goodbye to January. Good riddance!
It seems like that old saying, "When it rains, it pours" is so incredibly accurate. I've talked to more than one person that has had a month like this, and what a way to start a new year! I am determined to have a spectacular year, but it's going to have to start with February. January doesn't count. I'm going to pretend that it never happened (well, not really, but I want to wipe the slate clean and start my year now). In February, there are, of course, things I am still dealing with. My grandfather passed away last weekend, and we are having his memorial. The residual emotional turmoil from other issues in my life isn't completely resolved, but I am adamant that it will be, and everyone involved will be better for it. I won't accept anything less.
I realize that I am not completely in control of my circumstances, but I am completely in control of my reactions to them. I can't control other people, their feelings, their problems, but I can most definitely control myself. And I intend to.
So, what can I look forward to in February? Well, first is my daughter's seventh birthday. I can't believe I have a seven year old! But she is remarkable, and I am excited to celebrate it. Next, I've got more motivation to do fun and exciting things in my day home, and after a very long time of feeling unmotivated and overwhelmed, I am ready to step it up a notch and do my job even better than before. (Maybe it's the sunshine?) Lastly, I am going on a vacation with some of my very best girl friends at the end of the month, and I am so excited I can hardly stand it! Talk about a necessary break! I think it will be just what I need, and the anticipation of it is just as good. I got my passport in the mail last week (no, I didn't have one!) and I just about jumped out of my skin! I literally jumped up and down, and screamed with excitement. I did. I just about kissed the mailman, and that's the truth.
The one thing I know about life is that after having a month like I just did, there is bound to be a light at the end of the tunnel, to quote another cliche. Things have been so stressful that there just has to be an end, and I truly think it is in sight. I look forward to saying goodbye to January. Good riddance!
Friday, January 20, 2012
Memoriam
There isn't usually a day that goes by that I don't think of something that reminds me of my mom. Today marks the sixteenth anniversary of her passing, and it's honestly no easier now than it was then. The shock of it is gone; the instant you hear the news and can actually hear your heart crack, that is gone, but the pain it leaves behind is still the same. It is more acute some days than others, but even though the heart heals, the scars will always remain.
I have now lived more than half my life without a mother. This is something I know I'm not alone in. It is a hard cold fact that people die. Most of the time life seems to be cut short, unfinished. Rarely do we see someone pass and can say they were done living. Is anyone ever really done living? My great grandmother died at the age of 103 a few years ago, and I'm sure she would have said she still had more living to do if given the opportunity. It seems pretty unfair, that death can take us any time, but most days I look at that as a reminder that I need to live.
Today I received a message from a dear friend, and she quoted my mother's last words to me. My mom asked me to take care of her flowers (she had received many during her hospital stay), and my friend told me that I was doing exactly that, with ALL her flowers. Instant tears, let me tell you. We leave behind so much when we go from this world, don't we? My children are my mother's legacy, and her mother before her and her mother before her. It is the lessons we teach our children and the love we spread on to people that gets passed along, and for my mom, it was boundless. Her love was huge. Another friend told me that Catholics believe all people who have passed on to Heaven are looking down on us and praying for us - petitioning on our behalf to God that we might have the best lives we can. I kind of like that belief. It is quite comforting.
The thing about today is that it really makes me remember, oddly enough, not to live my life in mourning. Because I can, because I have breath, because I wake up each and every day, I have to live, and live in happiness. Another great friend of mine (wow, I have some amazing people in my life!) has told me a few times that happiness is a choice, and I completely agree. And overall, I do choose to be happy. I go through periods of time when sadness can be quite overwhelming, but in the long run, happiness is what I choose. I haven't come through all I have experienced to be unhappy. I'm sure everyone else on the planet can agree. We all have hard times. We all experience tragedies. We all go through periods of time when sadness or negative emotions overtake us. This is the human experience. The important thing is what we do with those experiences. I've had my fair share of hard times. Right now is actually a hard time, but when push comes to shove (I love that phrase, and it's so cliche), I will always choose happiness over my hardship.
My mom would be very proud of what she left behind. She would see the strength her daughters have, and know she had a hand in that. She would look at my sister, her baby, and know that even though she only had her for six years, she shaped this woman in the most significant ways. I see my mom in my sister every day, and it is the most beautiful and encouraging thing. My mom was a fiery, passionate, loving, strong, crazy woman, and I am thankful for my fourteen years with her. I am thankful for what she taught me, how she lived despite her difficult circumstances, and for the fact that I never once in my life doubted that she loved me.
I have now lived more than half my life without a mother. This is something I know I'm not alone in. It is a hard cold fact that people die. Most of the time life seems to be cut short, unfinished. Rarely do we see someone pass and can say they were done living. Is anyone ever really done living? My great grandmother died at the age of 103 a few years ago, and I'm sure she would have said she still had more living to do if given the opportunity. It seems pretty unfair, that death can take us any time, but most days I look at that as a reminder that I need to live.
Today I received a message from a dear friend, and she quoted my mother's last words to me. My mom asked me to take care of her flowers (she had received many during her hospital stay), and my friend told me that I was doing exactly that, with ALL her flowers. Instant tears, let me tell you. We leave behind so much when we go from this world, don't we? My children are my mother's legacy, and her mother before her and her mother before her. It is the lessons we teach our children and the love we spread on to people that gets passed along, and for my mom, it was boundless. Her love was huge. Another friend told me that Catholics believe all people who have passed on to Heaven are looking down on us and praying for us - petitioning on our behalf to God that we might have the best lives we can. I kind of like that belief. It is quite comforting.
The thing about today is that it really makes me remember, oddly enough, not to live my life in mourning. Because I can, because I have breath, because I wake up each and every day, I have to live, and live in happiness. Another great friend of mine (wow, I have some amazing people in my life!) has told me a few times that happiness is a choice, and I completely agree. And overall, I do choose to be happy. I go through periods of time when sadness can be quite overwhelming, but in the long run, happiness is what I choose. I haven't come through all I have experienced to be unhappy. I'm sure everyone else on the planet can agree. We all have hard times. We all experience tragedies. We all go through periods of time when sadness or negative emotions overtake us. This is the human experience. The important thing is what we do with those experiences. I've had my fair share of hard times. Right now is actually a hard time, but when push comes to shove (I love that phrase, and it's so cliche), I will always choose happiness over my hardship.
My mom would be very proud of what she left behind. She would see the strength her daughters have, and know she had a hand in that. She would look at my sister, her baby, and know that even though she only had her for six years, she shaped this woman in the most significant ways. I see my mom in my sister every day, and it is the most beautiful and encouraging thing. My mom was a fiery, passionate, loving, strong, crazy woman, and I am thankful for my fourteen years with her. I am thankful for what she taught me, how she lived despite her difficult circumstances, and for the fact that I never once in my life doubted that she loved me.
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