I Didn't Want You To Worry Reverb

Every once in awhile, something happens that makes you reevaluate everything you thought you knew only moments before.

My schema was shook up late last night. I can not go into details, it's too personal. But I can say that after a few confusing texts at 1:30am, my view on the world was different.

I'd realized I had been walking through my life, my interactions with family, with blinders on. I'm still not sure if I was the one who put the blinders on or if they were put on me by someone else. Regardless, I had been a naive little girl. I saw what was pleasant.

There is a significant period of my past that, if it were a blog post would have been titled I Didn't Want You To Worry. This recent event feels an awful lot like that, just a smaller scale. Well meaning family members elect to keep information secret in order to spare other people pain and worry. I do not know of any situation where this plan has had the intended result. In my personal experiences, it has always left me hurt.

Now, the morning after my awakening, I'm hurt and worried. My small family is strong, and we have managed far worse than this. Nonetheless, I'm so very worried about the future. How will this current information affect those I love so deeply? It forces me to look at the inevitable nature of life and what lies in the future.

Today, I will try to have fun and enjoy my beautiful and charismatic daughter. Maybe we will get ice cream.

Heaven

A mother, by definition, is all knowing. She is said to have eyes in the back of her head. A mother's kiss can cure any ailment. Tell her your problems, she will listen and help you find the best solution. A mother is omniscient.

Except when we're not. I'm finding...I'm not.

My mother died in 2006. She wasn't alive the day I was married. She has never properly met my daughter. But, I believe in angels and an afterlife. I know she was there at the Little White Chapel and again in the delivery room. I'm certain she knows K.

K, on the other hand, does not know my mother, her grandmother.

I have been able to handle every aspect of motherhood to date. Sure, I've had my challenges, but I've handled it. I have a solid childhood education background. I know the research.

But this...I'm finding myself tongue-tied.

I have never wanted my mom to be a mystery. I talk with K about my mom. She knows she's in heaven. Nevertheless, K's 3 and this shit is getting harder to explain by the day. Her questions start off simple.

"Did your mom make you eat lima beans?"

Quickly they progress to the point my eyes are welling and I'm fighting back tears.

"I know you miss your mom. One day, will you go with me to visit her? I think she would want you to come too, with me. Because I'm sure she would want to see you."

I don't know how to answer the questions so she will understand, so she will feel satisfied. Because the questions keep going.

"When can we see your mom? I know that you can't come back from heaven, so when can I see her? I don't want to be sick."

It breaks my heart. Truly. I have not the right answer for my sweet, sweet girl. I'm speechless. I have tears and sadness and I can not convey to her, that which I, don't fully understand myself. I do not understand death. I comprehend the science behind it, but that's it.

I try talking to K about seeing my mother in her dreams, and that helps...me anyway. The image of my mom playing with K in her dream, riding horses together, makes me momentarily smile. Still, I know K has little understanding of dreams. They are as abstract to her as heaven.

Try as I may, the best I can do is make it through the conversations. I can't imagine I am saying anything that makes much sense to her. After all, heaven and death aren't very logical concepts. I offer her truth in the simplest fashion. I don't want her to view my mother as a sad topic and I don't want her to fear death.

The conversations are becoming more frequent and her thoughts, regarding my mom and heaven, are becoming more complex. It's proof she's growing up. She no longer just accepts, "my mom is in heaven."

I miss my mother daily. And in some way, without ever meeting her, K misses her too.

Temporarily Mourning

Today's Fat Tuesday, which makes tomorrow Ash Wednesday.

I'm not über religious. I like to think of myself as spiritual, instead.

I've never observed Lent. It wasn't something that was a part of my childhood. My mother forced my sisters and me to attend church every Sunday. And never do I remember Lent even being discussed. Maybe because I was too busy reading Sweet Valley High. Regardless, we weren't expected to give anything up for Lent.

Enter my Catholic husband and his family. They observe Lent. So for years, I've listened to them give up red meat, coffee, sprite, and cursing.

This year, being the year of improvement and all, I decided I could benefit from giving up a vice for a few weeks. I narrowed it down to alcohol and television. Alcohol was my original choice but I opted out because I really like it. Giving it up would suck. I enjoy sitting on my back porch on the surprise pre-spring warm night with a skinny girl margarita and my iPad or a good beer with pizza and Old Bay wings or a nice glass of red wine at dinner when we visit my inlaws. Besides, I've done the no alcohol thing when I was pregnant.

That left me with tv. I don't watch a ton of tv. It's never just on as background noise. But I do watch more evening tv than I think I should. I've found myself watching Dance Moms and Pawn Stars purely because I didn't want to turn the tv off. I've actually learned character names in both shows. I have actual opinions about Abby Lee. I've been watching crap. So, I'm giving it up. For 40 days. Entire days. And here is what I'll miss, ranked in order of importance.

1. Young and the Restless...oh I'm so sad, already. I've watched the Newman's and Abbott's for as long as I can remember. I know I can skip a week and not be lost, but 6? I'll have to read weekly recaps. My luck someone will get pregnant, have the baby, send it to boarding school, and it'll be grown up before Easter.
   
2. New Girl...I love Zooey Deschanel.
   
3. NBC's Thursday night lineup; Office, Parks and Rec, Up All Night...you will all be sadly missed. I might just wear black this Thursday.
4. Survivor...this is the show my husband and I watch together. Always. We've done it for years. Now what will we do?
   
5. Cougar Town...maybe with all the extra free time, I'll become a penny can master.
6. Whitney
7. Modern Family
8. Netflix...I will no longer need to update the queue. I pass the torch to my husband. This is your opportunity to watch every movie you've ever said to me, "you never want to watch" about. Have fun.

It appears I like sitcoms.

The good news, I've given myself a few outs to make this successful and realistic.

1. Movies in a theater are okay. Anyone want to go to the movies with me? Apparently, I'll watch anything.
   
2. If a natural disaster occurs, I'm allowed to watch the news coverage. I'm not wishing or anything, just thinking ahead.
   
3. TV watching while sick is fair game. No one should have to suffer without mindless television.

Now we shall see what amazingness I can achieve with tv out of the way. I hope to tackle DIY projects, organize every nook and cranny, develop plans for our backyard, and rediscover my craftiness. Or spend my extra free time on Pinterest. It coud go either way.

 

Plasma and Platelets

I've never given blood. When I was pregnant, I had blood removed from my body by force multiple times for various tests. That's about it.

At some point in my life, probably college, I was first introduced to the idea of blood donation. I weighed 108lbs. And if any of you know the rules to blood donation, that meant I couldn't donate.

Holy what?! Seriously? I had been given a free pass, an out!!  Hell yeah!

Now, let me be the first to say, please donate. It's necessary. Donors of all types are heroes. Period. My husband donates blood on a regular basis. He did it today. I'm very proud of him for that. When my mother was still alive, she benefited greatly from the generosity of others. I will always feel a sense of gratitude to the anonymous blood donors that made it possible to enjoy one more day with my mother.

Phew. Now that I've got that PSA out of the way...

That fateful day back in college was life changing. From then on, it has been my goal to never be able to give blood. I'm fearful of needles. I don't like the idea of being hooked up to some machine to suction my blood from my body. I faint easily. Seriously. I do. It's not the sight of blood that's the problem, but instead the loss of blood. It's my blood. I guess I'm selfish.

Every time I step on a scale, it's the only thought I have.

Please let it be under 110. Please let it be under 110. Please, please, please.

My weight is good if I can't donate blood. Now, don't get me wrong...I'm always right on the border. I know there are days every month that I could definitely give blood. But until my weight is consistently above the 110 mark, I'm riding the wave. For as long as I can. Because, one day my free pass will be up. I will no longer have an out. I will have to suck it up, roll up my sleeve, and donate.   

Retribution

Dearest Mom,

Are you looking down on me, having a good laugh? Are you taking great pleasure from watching your granddaughter challenge me the way she does? Were you watching her, Sharpie in hand as she graffitied my childhood desk? 

I'm sure you were. And all I have to ask is...

What in the hell did I ever do as a child to deserve this?!

I've asked everyone in the family, they all say I was sweet and easy going as a young child. They must be wrong. This must payback. It's the only thing that makes sense. The others in the family must not know what you know. At home, alone with you, I must have been a terror. Mischievous. Outright naughty. And now I know what it must have felt like to be you.

So, my amazing mother, I want to apologize to you for whatever horrible acts I did as a child. I'm sorry. So very sorry. Can we call it a truce? Can you accept my apology and start helping me from above? I'm sure there's someway you can intervene the next time K decides to vandalize my belongings. Maybe you could visit her while she's sleeping and send her positive affirmations. Or if that doesn't work, and I'm just brainstorming here, maybe you could haunt her a bit. Scare her straight, if you know what I mean. Just a thought. I'll leave it up to you to decide the best way to involve yourself.

Mom, I really am so very sorry for making your life challenging. And for not appreciating all the hugs and kisses you gave me, because I now know what that's all about, too. 

Love always,

Your favorite daughter

xoxoxo