tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29879476641011346662024-03-12T16:04:03.853-06:00Colorful Medication"No, I don't think you're crazy. I think you're colorful. The kind of colorful that responds well to medication."
This is my attempt at facing and dealing with the fact that my mother had cancer (earlier posts) and died in November, 2008.Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.comBlogger44125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-81518563256209946742012-11-14T08:03:00.000-07:002012-11-14T08:03:08.977-07:00RedirectionI am moving this blog over to wordpress as well. Makes sense to me to have them all in one spot. I also really like a few of the wordpress features that blogger doesn't have! So...<br />
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<a href="http://colorfulmedication.wordpress.com/">Colorful Medication</a><br />
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There's the new link. Please update your readers with the address, as I have a feeling I will be using this one more as drama unfolds with dad. If I can figure out how to add in an actual redirect, I will, but that's not likely!Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-41234521140612368542012-11-09T13:28:00.000-07:002012-11-09T13:28:04.602-07:00I officially hate MFirst, update on Mom's deathiversary: M ended up not coming up. She and dad got into a fight about her behavior of late and dad didn't bring her. All the better for me, which I later told him. It was upsetting me way too much. And for those who think I'm over-reacting to the idea of dad dating, I would like you to take the time to actually read this blog. See that dad has dated before and I've had no issue with it. The issue with this was not dad dating, it was M coming up here ON THAT PARTICULAR DAY. Pretty much anyone that has heard mention of her coming up here that day has said how rude and inconsiderate it was, including people known for telling me the God's honest truth.<br />
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What behavior caused the fight? Her using dad as her errand boy, when he lives 25 miles one way from her. And then? She asked him if there was the possibility of them getting married! After only "not dating" for a month, max. He said if there was, it would be at least a year. Come to find out, she'd already started making plans for an August wedding AND INVITING PEOPLE! Seriously? This is adolescent behavior, the shit we do as teenagers when we're "head over heels" in love with our crushes. We doodle hearts and our names with theirs on notebooks, plan what a wedding might look like, think about our future lives. We don't, however, plan the wedding and invite people before even being asked. THAT'S the sign of a person with some serious attachment issues, imo. And after the fight? She texted ME the next morning (the morning of Mom's death, mind you) to ask me to apologize to my dad on her behalf and tell him how sorry she was for her behavior. Grow up, woman. Do your own work. (I did pass on the message, for what it's worth.)<br />
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And now the reason for this post:<br />
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Yesterday I talked to dad to see if he'd talked to M since their fight, so I'd know if I could expect more text messages. If they did, and it was no good, I was going to delete her from my phone. If they didn't, because he wasn't planning on it, same thing. But they did, so I get to leave her. He was telling me, however, what happened on Tuesday. He took her to a doc appt about...70 miles away, maybe? While she was there, she took a med for her pain. 3 hours later, she took 2 more of a different drug (which she claimed to me today was for a migraine, but research says it's what I thought - a anti-anxiety similar to xan.ax*). It caused her to slur her words and behave in a manner similar to how mom used to behave when she was on these meds as she was dying. Dad, quite naturally, isn't willing to tolerate that. We discussed PTSD, how it happens not just with vets (which he is) but also with anyone who has had a traumatic experience (such as being there, mostly alone, for every moment that your wife spent dying over a course of 14 months). I told him that not being willing to tolerate that behavior from anyone else, drug-related or not, was perfectly acceptable and understandable. I also tried to explain drug dishabituation** to him, but I'm not sure he understood. He said he'd have M call me. <br />
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At any rate, while I was at the store today, I got a message from M asking if she could call and talk to me. Three minutes later, another one came in saying she'd talk to me later. I left the store and called her to find out what was up. She acted all high and mighty about her behavior with dad, how she knows what she's doing, she took the second meds because she had a migraine, she's a trained pharmacologist, blah blah blah. I was trying to explain to dad, not her, so I don't care. If she's trained, she should have known better! I told her dad doesn't understand sick and pain, because he's rarely sick and almost never in pain. He doesn't understand illness. Mom's cancer freaked him right the fuck out, because he didn't know what to DO with it. He couldn't fix it, he didn't understand it, and it was always changing, morphing his wife into someone he didn't know and who, at times, didn't know him. I tried to explain to her what I'd told dad about the PTSD - she asked me if dad needed therapy! That tells me how little she knows about dad. He would never, ever do therapy and to suggest it would be anathema. He would view it as weakness. I know my parents went through some counseling while mom was sick the first time and dad made a bad decision, but...that's the only time, and only because mom pushed him into it. He knew it was that or they were done for.<br />
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While talking to her, she then proceeded to tell me how mean mom was to dad, how nothing was ever good enough for her. No matter how much dad worked or how much money he brought home or what he did, it was never enough. I shared one of mom's "secrets" - that mom had MPD the whole time I was growing up, something M never knew. Something MOST people didn't know. I didn't know until well after I was out of the house and mom apologized for my life growing up with that. I didn't notice, I didn't know anything was out of the ordinary that wasn't just severe mood swings, but it explains a lot of things when I look back. So no, mom wasn't perfect but you know what? Neither was dad. I also got to tell M about a fight mom and dad had once. Mom was upset about something that happened with one of her friends and dad, finally frustrated with her emotions (another thing he doesn't deal well with) said "Have you ever seen your best friend blown up in front of you? No? Then you have nothing to be upset about!" and walked off. So go ahead, M. Tell me how mean my mom was to my dad. Tell me again how perfect my dad is and I will proceed to burst that balloon time and time again. I have examples that you can't begin to know. I lived in that house. I know my parents. I know that there are things I don't know, but I do know this: they were good to each other and to me. I had good parents - strict at times, but good. They had their fair share of problems - they almost divorced when I was 11 - but what married couple doesn't?<br />
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I stopped her mid-rant and was like "listen, no, just stop. Do NOT disparage my mother to me ever, ever again. I will not tolerate it, do you understand? She is my MOTHER." She kept trying to interrupt me with "no just listen, listen, listen...no, listen". Like hell, lady. I will not listen idly while you tell me how horrible you think my mother was. No. Just no. She finally says "Listen, she was my best friend. She was always there when I needed her, I just had to pick up the phone. I know you were close to your mother like I was to mine, but mine was horrible, just horrible, to my father and I vowed I would never let anyone put their mother on a pedestal." Don't EVEN put your issues with your family onto mine, lady. Don't EVEN. I don't put my mother on a pedestal, but don't pretend you know everything that happened. My family was/is private (I am far less so, obviously) and things that happened didn't get talked about to many. Mom's friend S probably knows just about everything that has ever happened - she and mom were kindred spirits - but I doubt anyone else does.<br />
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And then? To top it off, while I was talking to her I was walking in the house with my groceries and the child when one of the bags broke and my pickles crashed to the ground and shattered. Pickles I don't buy very often because they are expensive but they were on sale. I cussed, like I do, and she was all "J****!(I LOATHE that name, btw) You swore! I didn't know you swore! How long have you sworn?" I was like...since I was 13? I cuss like a sailor! Inside I'm thinking "you didn't know I swear because you don't know a god damn thing about me, so stop pretending like you do." I'm not the "girl" she knew, I'm an adult. An adult who is going to be having a talk with her dad later this evening about the conversation today. I am done. Dad can keep her in his life if he wishes but I will not allow her into mine. There are red flags all over the place and I won't have it. Her behavior is unacceptable to me and he needs to know that. He's an adult who can make his own decisions, yes, but I feel that I should be able to weigh in on this.<br />
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Sorry this is so long. This took place over a 5-minute conversation. So much happened and I need to get it out of my head so that I can be civil when I talk to dad later. Thank you for reading, and for leaving a comment in advance!<br />
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* Yes, I know, not all meds are used for the purposes they are originally set for. I take plenty of those, ones not approved by the FDA for the uses I am taking them for. Still not the point.<br />
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** A single introduction of a different stimulus late in the habituation
procedure when responding to the eliciting stimulus has declined can
cause an increase in the habituated response. This increase in
responding is temporary and is called "dishabituation" and always occurs
to the original eliciting stimulus (not to the added stimulus).
Researchers also use evidence of dishabituation to rule out sensory
adaptation and fatigue as alternative explanations of the habituation
process.Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-70866779919787477322012-10-24T10:57:00.000-06:002012-10-24T10:57:19.469-06:00Dad and thingsThis post needs to be written but it's going to take me time. I am so frustrated, angry, bitter, and a whole host of other negative emotions that I'm having a hard time expressing them. I apologize in advance if this post rambles and isn't terribly cohesive. I NEED to write this, to get it out of my head, and that means just letting it flow.<br />
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Dad called me a few weeks ago and said "You'll never guess who I ran into at the store the other day!" and no, dad, I wouldn't dare guess. You know every one in the freaking town and half the people in the next, I swear, so it would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Apparently he ran in to M, a woman that my parents have been friends with for about 25 years, give or take a few. She gave him her number - omgs! I told him he should call her, hang out. I mean, they've been friends for a LONG time, but ever since she remarried many moons ago (and is now divorced) and moved to a different town, they haven't spent much time together. Saw each other at church and whatnot, but not much beyond that. Anyhow, I jokingly told dad that maybe he should date M...and apparently he took me seriously. Except that, you know, dad doesn't date...so he has a not-a-girlfriend again. He's spending a LOT of time with her, from what I can tell. He no longer has a dog that he has to go home and take care of, so I'd be curious to know how much time he's actually spending at home. I can't and won't ask that, though. Not my business, do not really want to know.<br />
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The 4th anniversary of mom's death is coming up in less than 2 weeks. I am feeling more upset this year than in past years and I think it has to do with this: Dad is bring M up that day to put flowers on mom's grave. Yeah. It feels tactless and insensitive and rude and...I have no words to really describe how I feel. I shake with rage and frustration just thinking about it. Yes, I know, M was mom's friend too. M says she wants to see where mom was buried and see me. She's had 4 YEARS to find out where mom was buried. My parents' phone number hasn't changed in 31 years, so it's not hard to reach dad. She could go to the church and ask some people how to get in contact with dad - someone has to know. She could have paid attention to the funeral service handout thing, whatever you call it, that said that mom was being interred at the Idaho Veteran's Cemetery, and then used their machine to find out exactly what plot and how to find it. There are lots of ways, but it's not until now that she's showing any interest. And dad? Dad just assumed that it's perfectly fine with me if he shows up on my doorstep on that day with M in tow and we can load up the baby and all merrily go out to the cemetery together. Did he ask me if it was okay with me? Did he take my feelings about mom into account, and the fact that this is a hard day for me too? Nope. He just assumed. I realize that having M there might make his grief a little easier, and that's great. Go. Have fun. But to decide that I need to go with? Not so much.<br />
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This is a day where I am raw to the core and the LAST thing I need is to have to play pleasant hostess to someone I haven't seen since I was living at home, probably, with the exception of mom's funeral. This is a day where I hide, rarely answer my phone, stay away from most parts of the internet (like my email, because there will be one from my uncle, dumping his grief on us...and now that he's on FB, I stay away from there too), sit and play video games all day until Aaron gets home and we can watch V for Vendetta. I go to the cemetery of my own volition, if I feel I can handle it. This is not a day for me to interact with other people, not yet. I am going to have to go to my classes, but that's it. None of those people know me, so it's fairly safe I think.<br />
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I just...I find it insensitive of dad not to at least ASK, but to tell me "We'll be there at 9am". Then he changed it to 10, and I had to remind him (again) that I have a kid who needs to be at daycare by noon and I have classes that day so if he wants me to go with them, they've got to be here as early as they can. I think I hurt his feelings by telling him they could go without me, so then I had to say "it's not that I don't want to go with (I don't) but I don't want my classes to be an issue" and he's all "I don't want you to miss your classes" and blah. We do not know how to interact with each other...and M wants to talk to me about dad and ask general questions? Yeah, I don't have the answers to anything, lady. His co-workers probably know him better than I do. Aaron says he understands where I am coming from but he also thinks I'm wrong - which is fine, since I asked him for an honest answer and he took the time to think about it first. I can see how he thinks I'm wrong and that's fine too. I could just scream, I am so frustrated and angry with dad. Will he ever see me as an adult with a life to take into consideration, instead of a child to be told what to do and expected to obey? No, I will not stand up to my father and say "Dad, no, I do not want you to bring M and I do not want to go to the cemetery with you because I don't know how to handle your grief". I was taught better than that.<br />
<br />Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-36978544682035511602012-08-17T10:24:00.000-06:002012-08-17T10:24:00.269-06:00Oh hey look, a trigger(I know, I haven't been here in almost a year. This has never been a frequently posting place, but a place for me to put thoughts and rants as related to moms cancer. If you still have this in your reader, thank you.)<br />
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I was perusing my Facebook wall today and BAM! a trigger came out of nowhere. There's a post from an outlying family member about how she went to the doc today and she's been in remission and cancer free for 2 years, 7 months, 10 days. I find that exciting and was happy for her. No, the trigger showed up when one of my SILs said "God is good!"<br />
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Yes. God is good. He TOTALLY had everything to do with this. He magically made the cancer go away. It wasn't the chemo or the radiation or the surgeries. Nope, God decided that this woman was worth saving, came down off his high cloud and made it all better. Oh sure, she still WENT through that other stuff but maybe she shouldn't have. Maybe she just should have prayed hard enough, believed in her faith enough, gone to enough revivals and been doused with enough holy oil to light up New York, and she would have just been miraculously healed without having to go through all that nasty science stuff.<br />
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God decided that this woman was worth interrupting his day for, coming down off his cloud, and zapping her with his magic dust and making her all better. My mother, apparently, was not. What makes this woman so different? Does she donate to charity? Live like Mother Teresa? No, nothing. My mother was a religious woman. She believed that God would do His will, whatever that was, and she was at peace with it in the end.<br />
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I really hate the words "God's Will". It gets tossed around everywhere. Can't have kids? It must be God's will. Go through treatments, manage to have a child? God's will. Get pregnant, only to lose it? God wanted that child back home, it was God's will for him/her. Get cured of cancer? God's will...although apparently not His will when you GET the damn cancer in the first place. No one gets cancer and gets told "It must just be God's will for your life that you suffer in this manner." Die? "God took him back to heaven because it was his time" or something similar. God gets all the credit for all the things.<br />
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This is, of course, only if you believe that God is in control of every little thing. This is how you end up with people saying "How could God let that little child die? How can He be so cruel as to let the Midwest/East be destroyed by tornadoes and floods? How could he let nuclear weapons be launched? *insert bad things here and how can God let them happen*" Because of free will, jackasses. Einstein once said "God does not play dice with the world." It's...sure, God created the world, and then he let it go. He doesn't roll the die to see who lives and dies, who gets struck with infertility and cancer and diseases and medical issues, which places get to be destroyed today by a natural disaster. No, He just set it free to do what it will. Giving Him credit for being cancer free? No, I don't think so.<br />
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Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-63311466905736039462011-10-27T17:52:00.000-06:002011-10-27T17:52:23.938-06:00That time of yearWe're coming up on that time of year again. Just over a week until the dreaded anniversary comes around for another year. Anniversary? Deathiversary? Is there really a word for marking these? There should be. <br />
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I was messaging with someone from my past today and realized that I couldn't remember all the dates from when mom was diagnosed with the different cancers. I actually had to come look it up - and even now, I'm not certain I wrote it down correctly. I wonder if the feeling that I feel upon realizing that is the same one that people feel when they realize that they can no longer remember a loved one's face clearly, or remember the sound of their voice.<br />
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I'm lucky in that, I suppose - I sound and look so much like mom, and the resemblance just grows stronger with each passing year. I put on a winter hat that she wore when she was doing chemo, with my hair pulled back, and got a jolt when I saw myself in the car window. I don't always notice it from day to day but...yeah, it catches me off guard sometimes. <br />
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I was watching my son with my MIL earlier today and thought about how sad it was that he will never get to know my mother. Well...perhaps when he dies, and hopefully gets to join her, but SO not the point. He will grow up without my mothers presence in his life, except what I can show through. It's...it feels incomplete.Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-91830781338547552652011-09-05T16:16:00.001-06:002011-09-05T16:20:40.985-06:00StunnedThis years Facebook meme for breast cancer awareness (ha!) has created a firestorm. I'm not sure if the ones other years have, but this one certainly has. As I was perusing blog posts, I was directed to a post written about the bra-color one. It is written by a woman who had a double mastectomy in order to save her life. I dare you to write this and not feel stunned to your core.<br />
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<a href="http://toddlerplanet.wordpress.com/2010/01/08/in-the-name-of-awareness/">In the name of awareness</a><br />
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I am not stunned that she wrote it. I am stunned by her strength. I am stunned at the way society can hurt when it tries to help, because (as a general whole) it doesn't think things through. I am not able to put into words how profoundly her post has touched me. I wish mom were still here, just so I could share this with her, let her know that there are other women out there who understand some of what she went through.<br />
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And when you are done reading that, if you feel it needful to do something, ACT. She has a link to a <a href="http://toddlerplanet.wordpress.com/2010/01/12/turning-awareness-to-action/">post on turning awareness into action</a> at the bottom of the one already linked. I have read over and over the past two days the same thought: Aren't we aware enough already? Isn't the time past for awareness, and the time for action NOW? I know that I can't afford to donate right now, and my own medical status is such that doing something like a walk is out of the question - although I would love to be able to do the "Walk to Remember" or "Relay for Life" in mom's honor some year. I can blog, though, and I can educate others about what I know.<br />
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I am 95% certain that I will get breast cancer some day. My mom had it, her mother died of it (it metastasized to her brain 6 weeks after dx and killed her), and mom was pretty sure that her grandmother also had it. My sister and I are both on the watch for it, because we know it's coming. Educate yourself. Educate those around you. Speak up for those who can't. Be an advocate. Do what you can. And hopefully build yourself a supportive network of people that you will hopefully never have to use.<br />
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And how appropriate that I read this exactly 7 years from the day that mom was diagnosed with the ovarian cancer that would take her life 26 months later. This is hell week for me - almost every year for 4 years in a row, mom was diagnosed with cancer.Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-3473892154238789962011-09-02T21:00:00.000-06:002011-09-02T21:00:07.062-06:00HallelujahHeard this tonight and was reminded very strongly of mom. She was a rather religious woman and while I may no longer accept everything I was taught, there is no question about the strength of her faith. Even in her last days she relied on her faith. I never heard her rail or curse at God for "giving" her cancer, for taking her from her family before we were all ready, or the ever present "why me, Lord?" that you often hear. I'm not saying that she didn't, only that if she did, she did it privately. I hold onto HER strength in her faith as a comfort. I can't say what happens when you die, who has the right or wrong of things, who is on the "right" side, and I won't be able to until I die my own self and then my answers don't do y'all any good. :) Anyways, I wanted to put this video up so I don't lose it, so I can come back and remind myself. And I know I embedded the Shrek version - it was the best one I could find AND the one that showed up on Pandora...which is where I heard it today.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="345" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/kB67HO8tkQs" width="420"></iframe>Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-10268715039280861382011-09-01T13:27:00.000-06:002011-09-01T13:27:12.070-06:00Some days...Some days I miss mom more than I do other days. I've missed her a LOT since getting pregnant, and even more so now that the Boy is born. I often wish I could call her and talk to her about my concerns, hear about things she did with me when I was this age. Dad tries, but...he has a habit of looking at things through rose colored glasses. Things have changed, too - you don't do things with your kid now that you did 34 years ago. Yes, I survived, as did all of my friends, and thus theoretically it should be the same now. But it's not - there are things that are better now, some that are worse, medical advances have been made, research has been done. I obviously began eating solid foods at some point, but I'm having a hard time getting my son to take it...so things that mom tried to get me to eat solids would be helpful. All dad can say is "we fed you this, and you ate it" type of things. <br />
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Oh mom...why did you have to go? Why couldn't you have stayed here with me to help me with this, be a living part of your grandson's life? Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-68459393753963343942010-11-05T07:00:00.000-06:002010-11-05T07:00:10.318-06:00Two years...Has it really been 2 years already since Mom has been gone? Yes, it has. Most of the time it's easier, but the few weeks leading up to this date are always hard. It's been really hard the past few months since I got pregnant because I need my mother more than ever and she's not here. There has been much wailing of "I want my mommy!" and my poor husband can't help, and my father is no substitute.<br />
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Today's agenda includes work, a coerced visit to the graveyard to leave flowers, and then watching V for Vendetta. Why? "Remember remember the 5th of November" of course. I think it appropriate and have decided that it should be a tradition.Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-79581404855947054282010-07-01T17:06:00.000-06:002010-07-01T17:06:38.551-06:00A call for helpI know this is usually my cancer blog, but...I am derailing it for just a few minutes.<br />
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<a href="http://gwendomama.blogspot.com/2010/06/my-life-has-reached-new-low.html">Gwendomama</a> is a fellow IF blogger that I have been reading for about a year now. At that time, I came across her situation from the LFCA - her husband physically abused her in front of her kids. She took them and ran. It happened on April 13th, but she didn't tell us the full story until <a href="http://gwendomama.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-happened.html">May 19th</a>.<br />
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Since that time, she has fought with the legal system and with him. She had a stay-away order, which he got around by living on the other house on the property, which was only <a href="http://gwendomama.blogspot.com/2009/05/how-far-is-too-far.html">20 yards</a> away. He refuses to pay any of the bills, or move, or move his stuff, or pay child support. Still. Still, after a year and some, he will not pay anything towards his children. Yes, they are now farther from him - about 40 miles. He also still believes that his actions were perfectly fine - <a href="http://gwendomama.blogspot.com/2010/01/how-scary-was-it.html">nothing</a> out of the norm.<br />
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I could continue with link after link after link detailing what this man has put Gwendo and her kids through. But I won't. Because I'm hoping you'll go over to her blog and read her story. And then? I hope you'll <a href="http://gwendomama.blogspot.com/2010/06/my-life-has-reached-new-low.html">help her out</a> if you can. I can't, not financially, not yet...but I can do this much for her. I can use my blog to hopefully reach other people, who might be able to help her. The internets <a href="http://gwendomama.blogspot.com/2010/06/thank-you-internet.html">banded together</a> and solved a few problems, but...there's more. There's a lot more. Until her ex-jackass starts paying child support and stops having his head up her ass, she's a single mom who needs help. So please...if you can...she has a paypal button up on her page, and is working on getting a PO box for those who want to send her goodie boxes.<br />
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My time is coming to be able to pay it forward. If you've ever had someone help you, and you're in a position to do so, now is a good time for you to pay it forward as well.Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-71731774303439213232010-06-18T13:15:00.000-06:002010-06-18T13:15:55.854-06:00Memorial DayI don't have a lot going on right now, but I thought I would upload the pics we took on Memorial Day.<br />
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The headstone and I:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>The flag and flowers:<br />
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The single rose that Aaron plucked out for me:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-3404636066988756082010-05-28T16:14:00.001-06:002010-05-29T00:57:02.492-06:00A ReminderHeard this, reminded me of mom since it's about loss...<br />
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Also, here is a pic from Mothers Day. I really like how it turned out.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKOwKXIoN3czErs9s_uC9cdXXeHpJ0HsvKhB6x5RD_MkXX00n3CinZmj6nOi32x1B2CZOzfKz0eJDapGstZHmCo-r_FxHj1NmLHIUMh7HFpwgd7xPqHjhDDth5xv_z2yKhSiUAuTYkgcOf/s1600/IMG_0066%5B1%5D" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKOwKXIoN3czErs9s_uC9cdXXeHpJ0HsvKhB6x5RD_MkXX00n3CinZmj6nOi32x1B2CZOzfKz0eJDapGstZHmCo-r_FxHj1NmLHIUMh7HFpwgd7xPqHjhDDth5xv_z2yKhSiUAuTYkgcOf/s320/IMG_0066%5B1%5D" /></a></div>Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-6118359322443068282010-05-05T11:11:00.000-06:002010-05-05T11:11:11.643-06:00MilestonesTwo minutes ago marked exactly a year and a half since my mother died. The 8th would have been her 62rd birthday. The 9th is Mother's Day...which has been hard for the past 5 years for infertility reasons, but now it's even worse. <br />
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At some point I <b>will</b> stop counting life (death?) in 6 month increments, right? I'll stop realizing when her birthday would have been, or how close it always is to Mother's Day? I will move on with my life, and these milestones won't exist unless I think about them...right? Please tell me it gets better...<br />
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And? My father decided that today would be a good day to come visit me. I have no idea why. I hope he doesn't think we're going to the cemetery - I'm already doing that on Sunday on the way to my MIL's for our monthly dinner. Two moms, one drive!Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-73820623136074846142010-04-14T13:15:00.003-06:002010-04-14T13:17:42.057-06:00Dads SurgeryWell, dad just called me a little bit ago. He had his "surgery". He had 3 things removed from his back and side - two moles and a fatty cyst. They are sending both moles off for biopsy, since they were REALLY black. He had six stitches on his side (that's where the fatty cyst was, and it was pressing on his kidney!), four on one cut, three on another. Poor dad - this is the first time he's ever had stitches and he's 63 years old! Doc said he's been very lucky.<br /><br />So...now we still wait for the biopsy results. *fingers crossed*Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-46012198395573714572010-03-17T21:47:00.002-06:002010-03-17T21:53:01.163-06:00Not again...My dad called me a little while ago, sounding a bit down. Turns out he had an appt at the doc today because his back has been really itchy. He has a rash on his entire back - and they have no idea what from. Not shingles, not allergies to anything...nothing. Then the doc said "have you seen these two moles on your back?" Dad was like "um, I can't see my back, so no." They're black, two of them - and the doc wants to remove and biopsy them. <span style="font-weight:bold;">AND</span> he has what appears to be a fatty cyst on his side, just above his right kidney. So the doc wants to remove THAT and biopsy it as well, just to make sure it's a fatty cyst and not something else. I know they're being precautionary. I know this is "Standard Operating Procedure". But...<br /><br />Please, for the love of all that is holy and good in this world, please do not make me get back on the cancer train. I can't take it. It's only been a year and not quite a half since my mother died. I know my father and I don't get along as well as we should, but I simply can NOT deal with this again. Especially since I really really won't be able to get my sister to help me at all - it's not HER father. I am not working anymore (quit a little over a month ago) so I can go down there and spend a lot of time...but I can't afford trips like I took before, every weekend. And my dad and I? spending that much time together? Not good.<br /><br />I don't know when they're going to do the removals. Dad has to talk to his work, get them to give him 3 days off in a row so he has time to recoup. I'm thinking a few weeks, since his work does the schedule 2 weeks in advance. I'll post more when I know more.Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-16803727774895023572009-12-17T11:36:00.002-07:002009-12-17T11:44:54.000-07:00And so it starts again...I got a call from my dad last week. My sister had her annual mammogram and an ultrasound of her only remaining ovary ( I don't know why the latter was done). They found a lump in her breast and a cyst on the ovary. <br /><br />Fuck.<br /><br />The tech told her to just wait 6 months and get tested again. In an uncharacteristic move, my sister actually disobeyed and went to her regular doc. Given family history (which her doc knows all about), the doc has decided to give it a few weeks and do the tests again. So...the Monday after Christmas, my sister is having another mammy and u/s. If the cyst is growing, they're just going to remove the ovary completely. My sister said she's not willing to risk a single cell remaining and have it come back like it did with mom. Of course, they did a total hysterectomy on mom too...but I won't point that out. I don't know what they're going to do about the lump - I guess it depends on size. If it's small enough, perhaps they can just remove it and biopsy it like the did with mom's. <br /><br />I...can't go through this again so soon. Or ever. But really - it's barely been 13 months since mom died. I simply cannot deal with the fact that my sister might have cancer. And what if she DOES? What if it becomes not a "might have" but a "does have"? I can't go down there like I did with mom - my sister lives 8 hours away. Then there's the whole "I'm not exactly THAT close to my sister" factor. We're sisters, but we're not best friends. We've spoken...4 times? since mom died. Maybe. That's being generous. We just don't talk that much. We're 10 years apart, we didn't grow up together - I was 8 when she got married. We got closer when I moved out on my own, but still - we're not close. She didn't even bother to tell me any of this - I had to hear it from my father. And when I asked how she was holding up? She just told me about the appointment. I don't understand her in the least. She also has more than just her husband to take care of her - she has two sons, at least one of which will help out. The youngest...he's taking the route of my brother, so I don't count on him. But still. I just can't do this. I can't fathom the possibility of losing another family member to cancer. I...<br /><br />Can't. Won't. Don't want to. The idea makes me want to go into a full-blown panic. I want to run screaming. I want to cry. I want to throw things. And this is all before I even have any answers.Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-15633050556305843772009-11-07T08:22:00.002-07:002009-11-07T08:39:20.393-07:00If I CouldMeant to post this Thursday. Didn't. Woke up with it in my head today. Took that as a sign. Here you go.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/DGEAocpQjcY&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/DGEAocpQjcY&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />A brand new baby was born yesterday,<br />Just in time<br />Papa cried, baby cried<br />Said, your tears are like mine<br />I heard some words<br />from a friend on the phone,<br />didn't sound so good<br />The doctor gave him two weeks to live<br />I'd give him more if I could<br /><br />You know that I would now<br />If only I could<br />You know that I would now<br />If only I could<br /><br />Down the middle drops one more<br />grain of sand<br />They say that<br />new life makes losing life easier to understand<br />Words are kind<br />they help ease the mind<br />I miss my old friend<br />And though you gotta go<br />we'll keep a piece of your soul<br />One goes out<br />One comes in<br /><br />You know that I would now<br />If only I could<br />You know that I would now<br />If only I could<br /><br />("If I Could" - Jack Johnson)Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-6920874353486290462009-11-04T22:20:00.003-07:002009-11-04T22:29:49.236-07:00The first yearTomorrow marks a year. A year already? Only a year? Either way...<br /><br />I've made it a year - a year without her. Without my best friend. My mother. My sounding board. My comforter. The one person in the whole world who understood me the best. Who understood what I was trying to say when I couldn't find the right words even remotely. Who knew the right words to say to bring me out of the spiraling black holes that I used to find myself in, and that I may yet find myself in again some day. <br /><br />I am not going to work tomorrow. I am staying home. Or maybe I'm going out. My wonderful husband took the day off - to "support me as I go to the cemetery and put down flowers, and then have however many breakdowns as I want during the entire day" as he puts it. His friend Timm told him he was a wonderful man - I happen to agree. We haven't decided what we're doing beyond going to the cemetery. I do know that I'm leaving my phone home, and turning it off. I probably won't check my Facebook, or my emails - they'll have to be dealt with on Friday or over the weekend. I'm in hiding. I can barely handle my own grief, let alone anyone elses.<br /><br />I've already warned my dad, and my uncle already sideswiped me on Monday with an email that said (and I quote) "I was sitting here at my computer missing Linda as the first anniversary of her death approaches and I figured she also must be on your minds. May God be with us all as our journey continues without the one we loved and the one who loved us in her own special way. Hope and pray you are doing okay and doing the grief work that needs to be done. You are in my thoughts and prayers. Please keep me in yours." It really was my initial reaction to email him back and say "Really? It's her one year anniversary is here already? huh - forgot all about it. She's completely slipped my mind - I never think about her. Idiot." To my credit, I did no such thing - I just deleted it and told my father to do the same. <br /><br />Today I woke up with the familiar depression - deep enough I didn't want to get out of bed. I am not excited to see what tomorrow holds.Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-57857878355585672762009-10-05T22:16:00.000-06:002009-10-05T22:17:49.549-06:00Grief and GrievingI realized yesterday that one month from today my mother will have been dead for a year. For the most part I've been ok for the past year - there have been a few episodes of total and complete breakdown, complete with me wailing "I miss my mommy". Thankfully I have a very supporting and understanding husband. He hasn't been through this, but he's really good at just holding me and letting me wail and trying to comfort me.<br /><br />On other fronts involving my mothers death it has not been so easy. My father used to call me 3-4 times a day, just to chat. Bear in mind that my father and I are not...close. There is love, yes, but we are so alike personality-wise that we always butt heads...even when on the same side. My mother tried her hardest to get us to bond before she died and she more-or-less succeeded...but not enough for me to be able to tolerate being called all the time and having to deal with his grief on top of my own. Not that he's EVER directly talked about it - it's more the fact that he called me so much, to talk about things like his finances, how hard it was to have to take care of himself, etc. Of course, my internal response was "welcome to being an adult, dad" and my external response was just noise about it sucking. My siblings don't call, thankfully - we've never really been close and mom being gone didn't change that. I talk to my sister every 6-8 months or so, and go YEARS between speaking to my brother. My uncle (mom's last remaining brother) and I have never really been close, although he seems to think we are. I think he's a religious con man, although I've never said as much. I'm too damn polite for my own good.<br /><br />At any rate, I can feel the grief creeping up on me. I have felt this way before, a sense of unspecific dread, around things like my first wedding anniversary, my ex's birthday, things like that. Usually only for the first few years, and it always took me a few days to figure out why I was acting like I was...and once I figured it out, it was ok. This time I know a full month ahead of time that it's coming up. I have a feeling this is going to mean a month of bad dreams - I really should say horrendous nightmares. They're full of death, chaos, murder, blood, violence. I get them every time I go to the cemetery to put flowers down for mom, which is why I don't do if often. Last night I had dreams of suicide. I also have a feeling that my father is going to start calling me all the time again - he's already calling me every day again, twice on Saturday...not for anything important, but to talk about the weather. I...I can't handle their grief. I can't handle his on top of mine, or my sister calling, or my uncle messaging me. I have always been the one EVERYONE turns to, and I want to wall myself off. Please...don't talk to me. Don't pile your grief on top of my own. Mine is crushing me as it is - I feel like my insides are one big rock. But I can't TELL them that - I'm their rock. I'm the first one dad will turn to, instead of friends. I'm the one my uncle is going to write, telling me how much he misses my mother, his sister, and how he's praying for all of us in our time of grief.<br /><br />Prayer. What a joke. Do I believe in God? Yes. Do I believe most of the things I was taught when I was younger? Yes. Not blindly, but because I've thought about them. What I have a hard time reconciling is that my mother was a devout Christian - she prayed, others prayed for her, all asking God's will to be done. God's will was apparently to take my mother away from me. I am so angry I could spit nails. God's blessings on my mother? She suffered with cancer for 14 months the last time before she died. That's a blessing? I have such a hard time with religious types right now, but I'm too polite to tell them to fuck off and stop wishing "God's will" and "God's blessings" for people who are ill. It kills them. This goes for people on Facebook - I have several friends who are either religious or who have recently discovered religion and all their posts contain it and I just want to scream. I don't want to block them - what's the point in being friends with someone you've blocked? I don't really have the right to tell them to stop either, because it's a public place.<br /><br />How do I deal with this shit? I can't just tell my family that I don't want to talk to them - that's selfish. REALLY selfish. God is my uncles world - he's a minister. I can't tell him not to talk to me about God - he'll just tell me every day that he's praying for me, which will get really fucking annoying. Husband says the best way to deal with anger is to just let it go - but I don't know how. I can accept the fact that my mother is dead and that nothing I do will bring her back - that has never been my problem. My issue has always been "why" - I don't "heart" understand it and it's making it difficult for me to move past this. I am angry, I want to hide...and I can't.Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-63429512360248655172009-07-29T12:02:00.000-06:002009-07-29T12:03:10.581-06:00Oh for fuck's sake...My father has joined an internet dating site.<br /><br />He wants my advice on what to put in the "who I am, what I'm looking for" fields.<br /><br />I'm not ready for this stage.Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-33004200158106144182009-07-21T11:42:00.002-06:002009-07-21T12:04:40.066-06:00The Dating GameMy father is trying to date. <br /><br />I'm not quite sure what I think about that.<br /><br />Mom and I, as well as my sister and mom's two best friends, all talked about this while mom was still alive. She wanted to make sure we knew that she was ok with dad dating, and getting remarried. My sister and I both figured he'd be remarried within 6 months of mom being gone, simply because he is NOT cut out to be on his own. He's still bitching about having to take care of the lawn and garden, as well as take care of himself, pay the bills, and not having any social life. <br /><br />He quit his job that he's had for years and years because he got tired of the way the company was run - didn't give his two weeks, just 10 minutes. He already had a job lined up at Wal-Mart. He's been there about 7 weeks - he started there the same day I started my job. Today he calls me and tells me he's looking at maybe quitting there and getting a part time job elsewhere. Why? Because he "doesn't have time to do anything." He doesn't get to have a "social life" because he doesn't always have Wednesdays off to go bowling, or Fridays/Saturdays for bingo, and can't always go to church on Sunday because sometimes he has to work in the mornings. But the Dept Manager ALWAYS has Sat/Sun off. I told him "welcome to being a grunt in retail. Your schedule is never set, you work when they want you to." He doesn't get it, he really doesn't. It doesn't matter where he goes, he will be a grunt who doesn't really get much say in when they schedule him to work. He's too used to a M-F, 8-5 job like he's had for 15 years. He actually told me that if all else fails, he could go back to his old job because they'd take him in a heartbeat. With 10 minutes notice? I doubt it. Dad thinks he's just indispensable and everyone will do anything he wants. <br /><br />I never figured my father for a stupid man, but damn...he has no idea how the real world works, I guess. Things aren't like they were in the "old days". You don't work for a company for life and get a gold watch when you retire - you get a cake, a clap on the back, severance pay. This company was damn good to dad while mom was so sick - they paid his insurance so he wouldn't lose it, even while he wasn't working. He took months off at a time to spend with mom while she was going up and down, and we'd think the end was near, and then she'd recover. How does he repay that? Gives them 10 minutes notice. I know that loyalty to a company isn't exactly a thing of the present, but still...<br /><br />Anyways, back to the dating. I'm more or less okay with it, but it's still weird. Especially when he asks me for dating advice. You see, dad doesn't seem to realize that I never really dated. John (a guy I met in college) and I moved in together when I left school the first time. My ex-husband and I moved in together shortly after getting together. My ex-fiance and I lived together for about 20 of the 22 months we were together. DH and I have lived together since the day we met 6 1/2 years ago. No dating there, see? I have no idea. Not to mention I'm a girl and we do things differently AND I'm 30 years younger than dad. The girl he was dating? I use the term girl for a reason - she's 45, which is only 3 years older than my sister. I also say "was" because she hasn't contacted dad in a week. He keeps saying he's leaving it in her court, but then he sends her text messages. He doesn't know how NOT to be in control, even when he wants to be. They went on two dates...and he brought her a dozen roses on each. I'd have run screaming, if I were her. While romantic, it's WAY too strong. But I can't explain that to him, because that's what they did when he was dating, before he married mom. I don't seem to be able to get it through to him that it's different now; that even the definition of dating is different. <br /><br />So yeah, mostly okay with it but frustrated. I have no advice to give, because he won't listen even when I DO give it. The idea of my FATHER dating is a little weird, even though I know mom was okay with it. Knowing that, and still having to deal with it...a little weird. At least I'm not alone - my best friends' parents got a divorce and her mom is trying to date again. So I have someone to talk to, at least, about how weird it is. Probably a little weirder for her, since her father is still alive...I at least only have one parent to deal with.Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-67759521189255476032009-06-02T08:48:00.002-06:002009-06-02T08:55:18.886-06:00AnniversariesToday marks what would have been my parents' 35th anniversary. I'm not sure what to do with this. I'm certain that it must be a really hard day for my dad - I know it would be for me, if I were in his shoes. Do I call him and ask him how quitting his job went (he starts a new one in two weeks and told his employer yesterday) and just hope that he doesn't bring up the anniversary? Do I call and tell him I was thinking about him today, and let him talk about it while being all awkward because I don't know what to do? Should I just wait and let him call me, giving him space?<br /><br />I also got an odd text message from my sister this morning. She asked me if dad and Sharon (one of mom's best friends, for 27 years, and one of the Three Musketeers) were dating. I told her not that I was aware of and why? Apparently my sister's half-sister Deb asked 'Shell if they were. Now...why Deb would ask this I don't know. She and my sister both live in another state, and neither are terribly close to my dad (although my sister more than Deb, what with being our mother's child and all). I know dad lives in a small town, but I still can't see how that information would have gotten to Deb even if it were true. So now there's this to add to the debate raging in my brain: Do I call dad and tell him about the text, see what he says? Do I ignore it and just wait for him to tell me? Do I call one of the OTHER Musketeers and she what SHE has to say about it? Do I call dad today, ask him about this, see if he says anything about the anniversary? <br /><br />ARGH! Too many questions, no answers! And no - this is not the only post rattling in my brain. There have been many others recently - I'm just afraid to write them and put them into words, and I don't want to think about them, so I'm sticking my head in the sand.Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-86213452274391713102009-05-08T09:10:00.003-06:002009-05-08T09:12:59.872-06:00Happy Birthday, Mom...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIDr4Pw6GwX4CJ6trcrJVuw8gE2wS6vHNg4Zy5N4SwKPPcA9c8OnVz_3F0U3VaPIICbkd5ds1dVHqy2HC2h346NR46E4c6me3-wzE6joYbVkYpSL0cupuLKDldd6LS-CUU0K0uRLTyVGmN/s1600-h/Iris+%26+Tulip+bouquet.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 350px; height: 350px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIDr4Pw6GwX4CJ6trcrJVuw8gE2wS6vHNg4Zy5N4SwKPPcA9c8OnVz_3F0U3VaPIICbkd5ds1dVHqy2HC2h346NR46E4c6me3-wzE6joYbVkYpSL0cupuLKDldd6LS-CUU0K0uRLTyVGmN/s400/Iris+%26+Tulip+bouquet.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333471064443366594" /></a><br /><br />My mother would have been 62 years old today. Instead...well...yeah. I miss my mother tremendously. I didn't think her birthday would be this hard.Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-26646048914370086252009-05-04T11:34:00.002-06:002009-05-04T11:44:13.134-06:00Six monthsTomorrow marks six months since Mom died. <br /><br />Six months.<br /><br />That seems like it should be such a long time. It's half a year. The distance between my birthday and Christmas. The beginning of third trimester for a pregnancy. A little longer than a semester. The grace period on student loans.<br /><br />It seems like it should be a long time...but it's really not. I'm still at the "it seems like there should be a hole, a big hole, she's only been gone for six months...but she's been 'gone' longer than the time since she died so I guess I've gotten used to it but I'm mad that I'm 'used' to it" stage. <br /><br />Dad is being stubborn, as usual. Broke two of his toes at work and won't go see a doc about it. Why? Because having them taped would make it more difficult for him to bowl in the state tournament this past weekend, and harder to walk in general. I know mom would have made him go, but I have no way to do that. I feel like I should take her place, and take care of him, but I don't have that power. I'm not capable. And when he whines about having to "do the laundry, and the dishes, and make my lunch, and keep up on the lawn, and weed the garden, and I hardly have time to watch TV", all I want to do is say "welcome to being an adult, dad...it sucks, especially when you're single, but it's the way it is." Mom took care of him for 33 years...I wonder how she managed? It's like payback - for all the time that he didn't help her while they were married, now he has to do it all himself...just like she did. I have a very distinct lack of sympathy. I feel like such a bad daughter.<br /><br />Dad is also planning on coming up here on Mother's Day to put flowers on her grave. I know I'm going to be expected to go with him. I don't want to. Every time I go to the cemetery, I have nightmares that consist of death, chaos, decay, mayhem and chaos for 2-3 days after. I guess I'm still processing. I'm glad he's coming up here to do it, though. Mother's Day is going to be a double whammy for me this year - even though the whole "never going to be a mom" is getting better, it's still a reminder that makes me terribly hostile. But now "never going to be a mom and never going to have my mom again" is even worse, I think. Sunday remains to be seen.Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987947664101134666.post-15732841028871449522009-04-09T10:40:00.002-06:002009-04-09T10:50:34.292-06:00It's the little things...When you think of things that involve presents, most people think of Christmas and birthdays. I knew Christmas would be hard for me, just because I usually spend it with my parents. Thanksgiving wasn't too bad, but I've been out of the house for 13 years - I rarely go home for Thanksgiving, as I've always been married or in a relationship with it's own traditions.<br /><br />I did, however, forget about Valentine's Day and Easter. Mom always sent me little packages with candy, a stuffed animal, a card. For Valentine's it was usually a bag of giant conversation hearts and some trinket that she got from Avon. Easter has always been a bag of Starburst Jelly Beans, and chocolates, and regular jelly beans. She'd line the box with Easter grass and make it into a basket. This will be the first time in my life I haven't had an Easter basket. At 31 that probably shouldn't bother me, I know. Somehow I don't think it's the lack of candy that is causing me to want to burst into tears..<br /><br />My dad isn't the type to keep up with stuff like that - that was always Mom's gig. She loved doing stuff like that. At Christmas time she'd send gifts to people or leave them presents where they'd find it, from "The Christmas Fairy". Once she did the 12 Days of Christmas for the "crazy cat lady" down the street from us who used to give me piano lessons. She was a single woman whose mother (who mom called Miss Merry Sunshine) lived with her - and they had about 30 cats. They weren't traditional gifts either - mom delighted in being craftsy and creative. Bottles of Moose Poop (small bottle with milk duds) or Snowman poop (bottle with Junior Mints) make their way into Christmas Baskets on a routine basis.<br /><br />I expected the major holidays to be hard. I don't know about my birthday. Maybe I just won't have one this year. What I didn't expect was the "elephant on my chest" feeling I get when I think about Easter, 4th of July, Valentine's Day. On my Facebook this morning, a friend had sent me a plant for my virtual garden. I went to send one back and the limited time included Calla Lilies...which is one of my mothers favorite plants. Maybe I'll go put some on her grave this weekend...on my own initiative....Tiggerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01469966108028329809noreply@blogger.com1