I am a daughter. I am a wife. I am a mother. But through it all, I have been and always will be, a woman.

Archive for the ‘Not-So-Strong’ Category

It’s Been 1 Year….

…1 week and 4 days.  376 days since I lost my mother.  And it still feels like I lost part of myself.  But I did.  I lost my mother.  One of my two best friends (the other is my husband).

My sister lost her mother.

My boys and my nephew lost their grandmother.

My husband and my brother-in-law lost their mother-in-law.

My aunts and uncles lost their sister.

My cousins lost their aunt.

I’m not the only one that lost.  I’m not the only one hurting still.

But it feels that way.

Grief is lonely.

Everyone grieves differently, so everyone grieves alone.  My sister and I both lost our mother, but we grieve differently.  She doesn’t understand exactly how I feel, just like I don’t understand exactly how she feels.

But I know we ALL still hurt.  There is a hole in me.  There is a hole in them.  None of us are complete anymore.  Memories are great, but they can’t hug my sister and me.  Pictures are wonderful, but they can’t send birthday cards to her grandchildren.

I wish we could see her one more time.  I wish I could hug her one more time.  I wish I could say “I love you” one more time.

But I’m glad she’s not hurting anymore.  I’m glad she isn’t struggling for breath anymore.

I’m happy for her, but I still cry for us.

I love you, Mama.  I miss you.  I always will.

I Miss My Mom

This is hard to write.  I’ve put it off, and put if off, . . . but now maybe I can write this.

I lost my mother 11 weeks ago tonight.  It seems like forever since I talked to her.  But it still hurts like it was yesterday that I lost her.

My sister and I have been going through her estate, dividing up this, giving that away, trying to sell the other.  Typical things.  We’ve cried over memories, and we’ve laughed over memories.  We have remembered things we had forgotten.

Through it all, I still expect to hear her tell me to, “Get out of that!  You know you aren’t supposed to be in that,” because you never knew where she had hidden Christmas gifts……..and she had usually forgotten what and where things were hidden, too.

I still reach for the phone to update her on why my routine doctor’s appointment results were.  Or to tell her a funny story about her grandchildren.

Thanksgiving is going to be bad.  Her family always got together Thanksgiving instead of Christmas.  There are just too many of us to get together for both.  It would be exhausting, so they picked Thanksgiving.  I don’t think I can go to my Aunt’s house this year and look at the chair my mother always sat in when she was there.  I can’t bear any well-meaning “How are your holding up?” questions that day.  I just can’t.  So I’ll go to my in-laws and pretend everything is okay.  But Thanksgiving is going to be bad.

Christmas is going to be worse.  You see, that was her favorite holiday.  She had an entire walk-in closet full of Christmas decorations.  Tree ornaments, mantle decorations, floor statues of snowmen and Santa and Mrs. Claus, wreaths, etc.  We even found 3 Christmas trees of varying sizes.  Not to mention the other Christmas decorations we have unearthed in other closets.  Her favorite holiday.  And she won’t be here.  My children won’t get to call Nana and tell her what Santa brought them.  We won’t get to visit her and eat spaghetti (because we were sick of all the turkey we’d been eating since November).  I won’t get to hear her child-like glee when she purchased and received yet another Christmas decoration.  She was a child at Christmas as much as my children are.  She loved it.  I just want to get through it this year.  For myself.  For my family.  For my children.  I will smile and laugh and pretend, because that is what I need to do.  I may not feel the Christmas Spirit this year, but I can’t take it away from everyone else.

Just as I recover from Christmas will be her birthday.  She would have been 66.  So young.  Too young.  I can’t think about all of the things she’ll miss.  It’ll break me right now.

She was my best friend.  We went through a really rough patch when I was in my teens and early 20s.  But we made up.  We overcame.  She was actually my Friend.  My Best Friend.  For several years, she was my only friend.

And I miss her.

Every day.

As a Not-So-Strong Woman…..

My last post was about being “A Strong Woman.” But this hasn’t been the best month for me, so I thought I would talk about the flip side of the coin – being a “Not-So-Strong Woman.”.

We have all had them. Days when nothing seemed to go right. Days that seemed to last foooooorrreveeeeeer with Nothing being accomplished. Days when the kids seemed to STAY on our last nerve, and then jump up and down on it. Days when we fought back tears all day for no apparent reason. I dare you to deny you had at least one of those days.

Sometimes there is a reason. Maybe we had a fight with our Significant Other. Maybe our child got in trouble at school. Maybe we had a car wreck. Maybe we burned supper.  Sometimes there is a reason.

But sometimes there isn’t. For some reason, we just can’t be cheerful. We can’t laugh.  Everything seems to be going wrong. We snap at our Significant Other. We lose our patience with our kids. We lose our temper at work. And we don’t know why.

Reason or no, we feel . . . Not-So-Strong. But we keep going. We may take a time-out for ourselves and try to get ourselves together, but we come back. We push on through even if there is no fight left in us. We are Not-So-Strong, but we keep on doing what has to be done.

We are Women. There is no other choice for us.

We are Women.  We keep going. Like the Energizer Bunny, we keep going.

We are Women. We ignore our weakness. No, we find Strength in our weakness.

We are Women. We are Strong even when we are Not-So-Strong.

We Are Women.

But Men, when you see your woman feeling Not-So-Strong (and you may really have to pay attention to tell because we’re good at hiding those things), be there for us.  Don’t try to “fix” us, for sometimes we can’t be “fixed,” we can only be mended with time.  Instead, Help us.  Hug us.  Hold us.  Appreciate us.  Love us.

Sometimes, a helping hand that we aren’t expecting can do wonders.  Sometimes, a quick hug can energize us.  Sometimes, holding us for a few moments (and maybe let us shed a few silent tears) can mean the world to us.  Sometimes, a simple “Thank You” can revive us.  Sometimes, a heartfelt “I Love You” can work miracles.

We Are Women. . . . but we aren’t always quite so strong.

www.awriterweavesatale.com/

Author, and Editor of Literary and Arts Magazine, The Woven Tale Press

Questionable Parenting

I am a daughter. I am a wife. I am a mother. But through it all, I have been and always will be, a woman.

Curiously Strange, Strangely Curious

I am a daughter. I am a wife. I am a mother. But through it all, I have been and always will be, a woman.

Caffeinated Me

I am a daughter. I am a wife. I am a mother. But through it all, I have been and always will be, a woman.

Love on Life and Love

I am a daughter. I am a wife. I am a mother. But through it all, I have been and always will be, a woman.

What have I Done?

I am a daughter. I am a wife. I am a mother. But through it all, I have been and always will be, a woman.

A Mummy Scorned

I am a daughter. I am a wife. I am a mother. But through it all, I have been and always will be, a woman.

I am a daughter. I am a wife. I am a mother. But through it all, I have been and always will be, a woman.

thesinglecell

That one little thought that catches on... and multiplies.

Daughter, Wife, Mother, . . . Woman

I am a daughter. I am a wife. I am a mother. But through it all, I have been and always will be, a woman.