Happy Birthday Mom

Today is Mom's birthday. So I've taken the day off, and I plan on spending it doing things she loved-hanging out with my family, going out to lunch, and shopping.

I know now that when we were growing up, she really did the best she could, and what she thought was right. It took me a long time to forgive her, and to be able to see things from her point of view. Now that I do, I am better able to forgive myself for the parenting mistakes I also made. Just because we made bad decisions doesn't mean we're bad people.

I love you, Mom. Happy birthday.

Are you there Mom?

It's me, Lula.

I can't believe it's already been 2 years since you died. When I was taking care of you those last days I was so exhausted it felt like it was going on forever. Then poof!-it's 2 years later.

I feel like a completely different person than the one you knew. In some ways I'm kinder and more tolerant, and in other ways I'm a complete bitch. Well, bitch may be too strong of a word. I'm learning how to stand up for myself and not tolerate any bullshit from people. I still don't always say the right thing when I'm defending myself, but at least I have the courage to try it now.

I've lost those pesky 20 pounds that were hanging around my middle. I know you always thought I beautiful-I remember being very embarrassed on several occasions when you would introduce me as "This is my tall, beautiful, blond daughter, Lula". Thanks for that, by the way. I don't know what you would think now-given my history you would probably say I was too thin. But don't worry Ma-I'm surrounded by people who love me, and they won't let me get too skinny without staging an intervention.

Oldest had another son shortly after you died-I can't remember if I've told you that. I haven't even met him yet, and he'll be two at the end of the month. Oldest says he looks just like me-remember the baby picture where I'm shaking the prescription bottle? Spitting image! Between money, health issues, work, etc...we haven't been able to make it down. But we're going in June-I'll give them your love. Oldest is doing quite well with his business too. I've always said he was a musical genius, and as busy as his studio has been, other people think it too.

Youngest is turning into quite the little musician in his own right. I don't know where these children came up with this musical ability-it must skip a generation. Anyway, he sings, and plays guitar, and I think once his voice changes, with a few lessons, he could be very good. You should see him Mom-he's an inch taller than I am! He would tower over you, just like I did at his age.

Hubbs and I are doing quite well. It's taken us a few years, but we seem to have settled into a pretty good groove. We never have enough time together, but it is making us appreciate the time we have much more. Plus, we have stopped playing the blame game in our marriage-we have both learned to admit when we're wrong, and it's really helped.

I'd like to say I'm doing great, but on the eve of your death anniversary I don't know if I can give a fair assessment. My depressions seem to occur farther apart, but they seem to last longer and hurt more too. And my mania-I get mini spells at least once a week. I think it's why I'm so tired all the time-it's hard keeping up with my brain. But, I have learned to not let my self destructiveness and fear of abandonment run my life anymore. For the most part anyway. It's helped.

Newman died. It crushed me,Ma-I felt like he was my last link to you. Then I realized that letting go doesn't mean I'm forgetting, it means I'm getting on with my life. I've applied that theory to quite a few things regarding you, our relationship, and your death.

I don't know why it's taken me so long to realize this, but I'm starting to believe you really did the best you could, and what you thought was right. I believe when you had me committed and when you put me in foster homes you thought you were doing what was best. You knew you weren't a good mother, and the only logical thing (to you) was to give me to someone who was better equipped to raise me. I appreciate the thought behind it, I really do. But I would have rather stayed with you. And you know, children do follow in their parent's footsteps. I think that's why I made the same decisions when my children were young. I have a hard time forgiving you for the way I was raised, but I think I understand now. Does that make sense?

I appreciate all the things you did for me when I was in the midst of my madness. You held me when I cried, yelled at me when I needed it, and (as an adult) never, ever gave up. Thank you so much for that. I could not have handled one more rejection at that point in my life.

I still think of you every day. In the mornings when I'm trying to do my hair, or think of what shoes would go best with this shirt-I think "God, why couldn't I have had a mother to teach me these things?" As you know, I went into foster care right about the age when a girl is learning all the fashion/hair/makeup tips that moms teach. And then I remind myself how far I've come, and how I really appreciate and like who I am right now-would I really change it? I don't honestly know. Changing just one thing could have made me a completely different person-I don't know if I'd be willing to give up all the pain for the lessons I have learned.

I'm surrounded by a wonderful batch of women. Becky and I have renewed our friendship, I've made a new friend, and I've cut ties with the ones who hurt me. I wish you could meet Little Wing. She's so grounded and strong-I think it would make you feel good to know I have people like her in my life. And Becky-she's going through a lot of the same things you did-did she make the right choice regarding her daughter? Does it make her a bad person that she's decided to let someone else raise her? Questions we may never know the answer to, but bottom line-bad decisions do not make you a bad person. Wow. It took me 40 years to learn that. This new self awareness I have still trips me out every day.

And blogging-it's strange how you find acceptance, love, and support in the strangest places. If you were here, I think this is something you could get into. Anonymous posting of your feelings-some people are supportive, some people suck, but there is such a sense of freedom in just writing it. I could totally see you doing it.

I love you Mom. I really do. I was going to tell you what my biggest regret is in relation to you, but you know what? I don't have one. Well, that may be a lie. I regret the stupid things, like not wanting you to smoke when you had about 2 weeks left to live (who knew!), and saying I'm sorry I never became the person I would have liked you to see, but I accomplished that. When you died, I had just bought a house, I was in a happy marriage, and I had a great relationship with my children. I also had the chance to thank you, and tell you even though you made mistakes, you did the best you could and I like who I am. I didn't really believe it at the time, but now I realize the things I thought I was saying to you to make your passing easier are actually true.

When I think of your death, the thing that stands out the most is when the coroner came, and the hospice worker told me I didn't want to see them load your body onto the stretcher and out of the house. I walked into the kitchen and kept my back turned, then suddenly I realized this would be the last time I would ever feel your warmth, your body, YOU-I ran into the living room, screamed "Wait!", threw my arms around you, and just let the tears and feelings go. I held you, and talked to you, and told you how much I love you and how much you would be missed. I bring up that memory and it's like yesterday-I still physically feel the pain of having to act like an adult and pull myself off of you so they could take you away. I look at myself in that memory, and I feel so bad for that poor little 38 year old girl. But, strangely enough, it is one of the memories that I treasure the most.

I love you Mom. I'll see you, someday.

Love,

Lula

P.S. I apologize for your ashes still being hidden in my closet. What does one do with the ashes of a loved one? It will come to me, I'm sure. But if you could send me a sign, that would be great.

Random Bits of Self Forgiveness

So I was driving to work this morning and I saw this woman walking her two dogs-American Eskimos, the same dog my mother had. And I remembered when Ivory the dog died, and my mother was-of course-heartbroken.

This was during the last year of her life when she was basically house bound, and Ivory was her best friend and companion. I remember my mother calling me crying her eyes out, asking me to come over and just give her a hug, to help console her over the loss of her dog. I was so irritated, I really was. I remember thinking "God! Do I EVER get one minute that isn't completely based on my mom?" I had something going on at the time, so important that I don't even remember what it was now.

Now by this point, I was pretty much on call when it came to caring for my mom, and I still feel to this day that my step-dad put way too much of it on me. I was overwhelmed, tired, stressed, on the verge of tears at all times, it was horrible. One of the hardest times of my life.

Of course I went over and gave the hug my mom so desperately needed. I spent some time with her before I took off to do whatever.

This morning, seeing the lady with her dogs, I realized I really did the best I could during the last years of her life. Whatever decisions I made, I thought they were the best. And so what if I was irritated that I had to take a minute out of my self-important life to go hug my mother? She didn't know I was irritated, and really, isn't that what matters?

So, goodbye guilt I felt at being irritated when my mothers dog died and she needed me.

Goodbye!

Mom

I remember right after Hubbs and I got married, my mom would call me and ask for help with the most random things. Could I come over and defrag her computer? Could we please come over and change the water bottle on the dispenser? Could I bring Youngest over to clean the fish tank?

It used to drive me insane-not because I didn't like spending time with my mother, but I really felt she was doing these things just to drive me insane. I would think "My GOD, how many times do I have to show you how to defrag your computer?" This was, of course, before we knew the cancer had spread to her brain.

Isn't it funny how I would now give anything to have my mother back, driving me crazy?

Mom

Bits and Pieces posted a few “Children’s Letters to God” the other day, and like so many things do, it made me think of my mother.

I spent a great deal of time reading to her the last few months of her life, and that book was one of our favorites. It made us laugh, it made us cry, and helped start a few conversations we probably never would have had.

I know I will probably miss my mother forever, but I wonder if I will ever reach a point where thinking about her doesn’t bring tears to my eyes.

From the book-

“Dear God,

I am doing the best I can.

Frank”

That says it all, doesn’t it?

I Remember Mom

I realize it's 9/11 and the majority of the country is busy with memorial services and all, but all this day does for me is make me miss my mother.

I had just moved here, living with Mom, and I was in the shower when she burst in, threw a towel at me and said "Get out here".

We spent the day together glued to the television, crying and worrying about where they would hit next. I like to remember this story because it's a story of her being well, aware and alive, so different from the last year of her life when she was partially paralyzed and losing the ability to speak.

So today, my personal memorial service will be things I remember about my mom.

She loved animals. I mean LOVED. She fed every stray cat in the neighborhood for years.

She had waist length, beautiful hair.

She collected earrings. When she died, she had over 300 pair.

When we were small, she was a terrible mother.

When I was an adult, she made up for it.

She was afraid of the dark.

She called me "her little girl", even when I was 6 inches taller than her.

She had terrible road rage.

She risked many things to help save me, including her marriage and her job.

She loved her computer games. Even though she could barely work the damn thing. I had to go over at least once a week to fix some crazy thing she did.

She had quite a taste for beer the last month of her life, after never liking it.

She was a terrible cook.

She made excellent fudge.

She loved Agatha Christie.

She always held me when I cried, no matter how old I was.

She loved me fiercely, the best way she knew how.

I Miss My Mom

I'm going through a very emotional family issue right now. I don't know if things will ever be ok again. I really, really wish my mom was here. I don't know why, she certainly didn't do a much better job than I did. But I wish she was here.

Posting may (or may not) be spotty for a while. I'm depressed which makes me lose interest in things. We currently have no insurance, so I can't go see my therapist for a month. I'll deal with this on my own. What else can I do?

All I can do is the best I can. I haven't always done that. I learned that lesson a little late. For now, I'm doing the best I can.

The Wedding

Yesterday was the wedding. I met my step dad's new wife (my step step mother?) for the first time. She actually seems very nice."Our home is open to you at any time" Of course, I had a million thoughts going through my head during the whole thing, like when the pastor spit out the old 'in sickness and in health' b.s. All I could think was, "I hope you take care of this one better than you did my mother." Then I immediately felt guilty.

I was very teary eyed, but it was a wedding, so I think I blended in rather well. There was supposed to be a dinner after, but my brother didn't go, and I really wasn't comfortable spending the evening with a bunch of people I didn't know, so we declined as well.

As we were leaving the church, my niece threw her arms around step step mom and said "Are you my new Grandma?" That's when I lost it.

Fucking A, I miss my mother.

Answers

I was talking with work friend, telling her I don't know what's wrong with me lately, I'm eating and drinking with absolutely no self control.

Me: "Oh yes, I have to leave early today, it's my step dad's wedding"

Instant waterworks! I cried at work!

Work Friend: "It is the wedding. That's what's wrong with you."

At least women crying at weddings are a common sight. It's just another reminder that my mother is gone, really gone, she's dead and not coming back.

I wish I hadn't agreed to go.

Whirlwind Romance

My step dad is getting married August 11. How do I know? My sister in law asked me on the phone last night if I was going to his wedding. He hasn't even called me, I had no idea.

Apparently I'm a little unapproachable. I told him when I was there picking up my mom's stuff that I wasn't mad, it just felt weird. I'm pretty hurt that he couldn't call me and tell me himself.

Whatever. All I know is, if he got rid of that lame ass astrology plate I made for my mom when I was in foster care, I will be pissed. I want to go pick it, and whatever else, up RIGHT NOW.

I know it's really none of my business, but I knew this was coming when he asked me if I wanted my mom's ashes. He should have been honest from the start.

I know my mom doesn't care-she is dead, after all. But for some reason, I do. I care a lot.

I'll get over it.

Stupid Yard Sale

I really really wanted to give away my mom's stuff to someone who would be happy to receive it. There was hardly even any interest in her stuff. Not the porcelain dolls, not the carousel horses, nothing. I know the economy is tanking and everyone is broke, but COME ON. It hurt my feelings.

I did give a porcelain doll to a little girl for free. She walked away with a big smile on her face. It almost made me cry.

I donated everything to the SPCA thrift store. Mom loved animals.

I miss her. A lot.

Better. Or Worse?

I went through mom's stuff last night. Well, the first batch of it. And I ended up OUTRAGED. My step dad said he was going to donate all the stuff if I didn't come get it. When I went through the boxes, I found not just her knick knacks, but family pictures, childhood trophies, gifts we had given her, etc... You would think he would have set that stuff aside, separate from the donate boxes.
Again, whatever. I spoke with my sister in law, made her promise not to tell my brother, then told her the story. She was appalled. She'll be coming over soon to take the things she wants for her and her daughter, and my brother.

As angry as all this made me, I actually felt better when I woke up today. I'm not sure if it's because I'm moving forward with distributing her stuff, or if I just needed to share my feelings with someone who was outraged too. At any rate, I don't hate my hair and the world in general as much as I did yesterday. Funny how that works.

Cry Baby

I've been crying for 2 days.

I picked up mom's stuff from my step dad-there is not a trace of her left. No a picture, not a knick knack-nothing. Whatever. I guess some people move on faster than others.

Clark Gable and Carole Lombard were the loves of each others lives. When Carole Lombard's plane crashed, Clark was devastated. He eventually remarried and even had children. When he died some 30 years later, he was buried next to Carole Lombard. His current wife understood that Carole was the love of his life, and respected his wishes. Apparently step dad feels differently.

I got my hair cut-HATE it! It's really not a bad cut, if you're into Jennifer Aniston circa Friends 1994-ish.

It's only hair, and it will grow back. I just wasn't in the mood for this right now.

Happy Sunday

What The French Toast?

So, my mom died a year ago. My step-dad, who was married to my mom for 28 years, is now dating, remodeling the house, giving all her stuff away-and get this-he just called me and asked me if I wanted my mom's ashes.

I know people move on at different speeds, but come on. I asked him if the new lady was moving in and he said "Well, not for a year or so."

#1. That house should have been remodeled while my mother was alive. She hated the carpet, it needed new paint, etc...

#2. I don't have room for all her stuff. So I'm going to go through it, keep what I want, share whatever anyone else wants (which so far has been nothing) and sell the rest. That's right, I said sell. Then I'm buying a goddamn pair of shoes.

#3. I don't want her ashes either. What the frick am I going to do with them? Her request was that they be kept on her desk with the ashes of her beloved dog. So now I have to take the dog ashes? Ashes should be scattered, or buried. Not kept in a box on a desk. They creep me out.

Fuck this. I feel like crying, and I'm at work. Stupid death and stupid families and stupid whoever decided what the rules are.

Best Day Ever

Last night was the first time I slept through the night in like a year. I have serious sleep issues, it kind of sucks. I never realized how much it wore me down until this morning-I woke up at 5:30, and felt great! I wasn't tired at all!

I jumped right up, did 15 minutes on the elliptical, sang a few songs to the cats, hugged and kissed my family, came to work AND FOUND MOM"S EARRING! It was just randomly lying on the floor next to my file cabinet.

Truly one of the best days ever.

Fuck

When my mother died, she had over 300 pairs of earrings. 300. I am not joking. She bought a pair every time she went shopping, and friends and family brought them back for her as souvenirs whenever they traveled. I gave most of them to the battered women's shelter when she died, but I kept the souvenir pairs, the heirloom pairs, and the pairs that I knew meant something to her. None of them were really anything I liked, but I liked having them.

After going through my mom's jewelry recently, I saw a souvenir pair (I think from her brother) of real Japanese maple leaves dipped in silver-very touristy, you've probably seen something similar. They weren't too bad, and I was sick of wearing the same earrings every day because I recently lost an earring my son had given me for my birthday. (which broke my heart, by the way-this becomes important later)

I wore the earrings to work, and work friend complimented them, and I thought "Wow, they are cute. They will join regular rotation"

I lost one today. I lost one of my dead mother's earrings. I felt bad enough when I lost one of the hoops the kid bought me for my birthday, but that felt nothing like this. I cried AT WORK. IN FRONT OF PEOPLE. I had everyone help, and we searched the bathroom, the warehouse, my office, EVERYONE'S office-work friend and I even retraced the steps of our lunchtime walk. No luck.

This is the second earring I have lost in a month, both of them very important to me. I think I will start buying cheap Wal-Mart earrings so I don't care if I lose them. Or maybe I will switch to necklaces.

Whatever. FUCK.

One Down, Hopefully Many More To Go

My first Mother's Day without my mother. Actually it's my second, but last year was the funeral and everything-I don't think I even noticed Mother's Day.

I spent the morning crying, then tried to keep it together for the rest of the day but it was hard. Every little thing made me want to cry. I felt like a terrible mother, I couldn't shake the sadness, blah blah blah.

My eyes feel like I was hit in the face with a frying pan.

Happy Monday.

Mom's Favorite Things

Today is the one year anniversary of my mom's death. In honor of Mom, I took today off of work and my sister in law and I are going to do a few of her favorite things-buying tacky earrings and going out to lunch.

I love you Mom.

April 12, 1938-May 7, 2007