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 ‘Pain’ Category

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.

Scabs & Scars

I have two friends having marital trouble right now.  Okay, the trouble is really over.  One is signing divorce papers in a couple weeks, and the other……well, the paperwork may not be started, but I think it’s a formality.  I feel bad for them.  Really bad.

My first friend is hurting pretty bad.  She tried to work it out, but just couldn’t.  The details don’t matter — and if they matter to you, that’s just tough because it’s HER story to tell, not mine.  I hurt for her.  She lost several friends over this.  She’s trying to take care of herself, her kids, her new place, and. . . . .well, her new lifestyle.  It all changed.  It seemed like it changed in a blink.  I’m sure it felt like forever to her, but to those of us that didn’t know what was going on inside her marriage (and we never really know what anyone’s marriage is really like, do we?) it seemed to happen in just a couple of day.  There was a castle.  Then there was a vacant hill.  Boom!  Gone.

My other friend is NOT hurting.  That’s what worries me.  She’s past all of that.  When the pain stops, that’s when you really know it’s over.  I know from experience.  When that final straw breaks and your first reaction is to smile, it’s over.  It doesn’t matter what you do from there on out, it’s done.  Finished.  IF they work it out (and I doubt that’s going to happen) it will never be the same.  I don’t think it will even be a marriage.  When the other person in the marriage loses all power to hurt you, they lose their standing.  A marriage takes two people to succeed.  When one holds all the power and the other holds none, it just won’t work.

Trust is gone in both cases.  Pain or not, there are wounds — some are just further along in the healing process.  Scabs and scars.  That is all that is left of two once good marriages.  Now four adults and three kids all have different lives.  They are different people than they were just six months ago.

And I can’t do anything for them.  I’m used to trying to help my friends.  That’s what friends do.  We help.  But I can’t.  I can’t fix this.  I can’t lessen the hurt.  I can’t fast forward time until everyone feels better.  Scabs and scars, and me with no band-aids.

I feel bad for all of them.  I wish I could just DO something.  But I can’t.  All I have to offer is a shoulder, an ear, and hugs.  I can be supportive, and listen.  Those things seem like nothing when you’re watching marriages break apart like the ground in an earthquake.  I just hope those scabs and scars cover wounds that are minimal.

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.