Thursday, August 09, 2012
I'm ok/I'm not ok
So this would be the time of the year I'd ordinarily start stressing about my mom's birthday on September 14.
You see, my mother was very particular about her birthday.
She was an only child (read: indulged) and expected to be celebrated on her birthday. Woe to he or she who did not celebrate Ms. Rikki Fernandez on her birthday!!!
As the day approaches, all this "ok-ness" I thought I built up is proving to be a veil of smoke. I'm not ok. Everytime I talk about her I get weepy. I come across pictures and I break down. I hear songs on the radio and near about lose it. Hell, the other day I heard Beyonce's song "I was here" and that about made me crash my car into something.
I was talking to a friend last night about some of the feelings that have been coming to the surface. One pertinent one is about how I feel un-anchored. Like the other day I went out for a LONG walk (my coping mechanism these days) and it was dark when I returned home. I live in Baltimore. Not the safest city. My kids are with their dad for the summer (who is happily married to someone who is not...um...me).
If I were to be mugged and killed on the way home, how long would it take for anybody to notice? And who would arrange my funeral?
It's a stupid thought, I know. But when my mom was alive I had concrete answers to those questions. My mother could find me no matter where I was. She used to have these "gut feelings" about me. I remember when I was carrying my oldest daughter I went to the ER because I THOUGHT my water had broken. I told no one because I didn't want to be one of those pregnant chicks that had a million false alarms. I wasn't due to go anywhere with my mom and I hadn't been out of touch for a long period of time and yet while waiting to be seen in the ER a nurse poked her head in and said "Ms. Massie? Your mother is on the phone."
She knew where her baby was. And if something happened to me (God forbid because she would have thought that a pain worse than even the worst death of her own), she would bury me. She would care for my children. She would be there.
I have my brother. And I love him. He's young and starting a family of his own. I have cousins I never knew very well. I still have a dad, although we don't speak much. And I know I need to get better with my family relationships. I do. Because right now I just feel like I don't come from anywhere and I know I do. I am just not connected to those people the way I was connected to her.
So I'm ok. But I'm not ok.
And it's going to be this way for a while.
You see, my mother was very particular about her birthday.
She was an only child (read: indulged) and expected to be celebrated on her birthday. Woe to he or she who did not celebrate Ms. Rikki Fernandez on her birthday!!!
As the day approaches, all this "ok-ness" I thought I built up is proving to be a veil of smoke. I'm not ok. Everytime I talk about her I get weepy. I come across pictures and I break down. I hear songs on the radio and near about lose it. Hell, the other day I heard Beyonce's song "I was here" and that about made me crash my car into something.
I was talking to a friend last night about some of the feelings that have been coming to the surface. One pertinent one is about how I feel un-anchored. Like the other day I went out for a LONG walk (my coping mechanism these days) and it was dark when I returned home. I live in Baltimore. Not the safest city. My kids are with their dad for the summer (who is happily married to someone who is not...um...me).
If I were to be mugged and killed on the way home, how long would it take for anybody to notice? And who would arrange my funeral?
It's a stupid thought, I know. But when my mom was alive I had concrete answers to those questions. My mother could find me no matter where I was. She used to have these "gut feelings" about me. I remember when I was carrying my oldest daughter I went to the ER because I THOUGHT my water had broken. I told no one because I didn't want to be one of those pregnant chicks that had a million false alarms. I wasn't due to go anywhere with my mom and I hadn't been out of touch for a long period of time and yet while waiting to be seen in the ER a nurse poked her head in and said "Ms. Massie? Your mother is on the phone."
She knew where her baby was. And if something happened to me (God forbid because she would have thought that a pain worse than even the worst death of her own), she would bury me. She would care for my children. She would be there.
I have my brother. And I love him. He's young and starting a family of his own. I have cousins I never knew very well. I still have a dad, although we don't speak much. And I know I need to get better with my family relationships. I do. Because right now I just feel like I don't come from anywhere and I know I do. I am just not connected to those people the way I was connected to her.
So I'm ok. But I'm not ok.
And it's going to be this way for a while.
Sunday, August 05, 2012
Solitude sucks
It really and truly does.
When the girls first went away to their dad's for the summer I was scared shitless. I knew I had a lot of overwhelming things to process (losing my mother, moving to a new house) and quite frankly I was scared. In another life I would have eaten those feelings or buried them far down deep inside and did really self destructive stuff to keep myself occupied.
So far this summer it's been going ok. I have been walking a lot. I've started up with the gym again. Exercise truly does make me feel better (afterward). But now it's August and...I just want my kids back. I've turned things over and over in my mind and I still don't have resolution to them and I MISS my girls. This new house isn't home yet and it especially isn't home without them.
But on the grieving front I took a LONG walk around Lake Montebello yesterday and it gave me a chance to think some stuff out. Walking does that for me. It helps me sort feelings out to the point where I can at least articulate them. Still may have no frickin' idea how to handle them but at least I can identify the feelings.
My mom's birthday is next month. I'm a bit antsy about that. She's been on my mind lot these last few days. Well, she's always on my mind but sometimes she moves to the middle or the back. These past days she's been right up front with such things like breathing and blinking.
I think the reason her death was so unsettling to me (besides the fact that she was only 58) is that I KNOW for a fact she was in a bad place emotionally. She felt defeated. She felt worthless. She felt as if her body had failed her and she'd failed herself. She had given up, stopped fighting and even told me she was afraid she was going to die.
And me...arrogant me. I didn't want to hear it. I believed in parental immortality. She couldn't die. She was my mother for God's sakes! Looking at it from this side I should be grateful she went on and on about how she hoped things would be after she died, despite my protests. Because of those musings I knew exactly what she wanted at her funeral and most of all I knew that she loved me. Because she told me every day.
And I loved her. I still do love her. I will always love her. And it KILLS me that I don't know if she knew that in that moment. Folks tell me she probably did. But I don't know. You know, I was supposed to go see her the Sunday before she died. She asked me to come wash her hair. She had these locks down to her butt and she couldn't wash them by herself. I showed up to do it (late cuz I had "important" things to do that day) and my stepdad told me she had taken her meds and was asleep. I was halfway up the stairs and turned back around to leave, thinking I didn't want to disturb her.
Why didn't I go updatirs and kiss her on her forehead like I usually do? Why didn't I take a moment to do that? I mean of course I didn't know this would be the last live encounter I'd have with my mother but I just really, really regret not doing that.
So my mind keeps going to that day, that moment. She let one of her dogs outside and...she collapsed. Perhaps she was having a heart attack. Perhaps she simply lost her balance and fell. From how she was when I came into the room at the hospital (she was already dead) her eyes were open when she died. What did she see?
I hope beyond all hope she saw her mother, come to collect her. I hope she stepped out of that failing body and was whole. I hope she took her mother's hand and walked out of that house that has ALWAYS reminded me of death and suffering and I hope she didn't look back. That thought makes me smile even through the tears I'm choking through this very moment.
Insofar as she can "hear" me from wherever she is now, I will keep telling her I love her. I honor her. And I'm so sorry I abandoned you the way I did. It's going to take me a long time to forgive myself for that. But I'm going to try because I know you always wanted me to be happy.
See? This is why I need my kids back. When they are around I can see the good that she created. This family, these descendants. I can see her personality in them and I can see how much of an influence she had on me as a mother.
Three more weeks. I can do this.
When the girls first went away to their dad's for the summer I was scared shitless. I knew I had a lot of overwhelming things to process (losing my mother, moving to a new house) and quite frankly I was scared. In another life I would have eaten those feelings or buried them far down deep inside and did really self destructive stuff to keep myself occupied.
So far this summer it's been going ok. I have been walking a lot. I've started up with the gym again. Exercise truly does make me feel better (afterward). But now it's August and...I just want my kids back. I've turned things over and over in my mind and I still don't have resolution to them and I MISS my girls. This new house isn't home yet and it especially isn't home without them.
But on the grieving front I took a LONG walk around Lake Montebello yesterday and it gave me a chance to think some stuff out. Walking does that for me. It helps me sort feelings out to the point where I can at least articulate them. Still may have no frickin' idea how to handle them but at least I can identify the feelings.
My mom's birthday is next month. I'm a bit antsy about that. She's been on my mind lot these last few days. Well, she's always on my mind but sometimes she moves to the middle or the back. These past days she's been right up front with such things like breathing and blinking.
I think the reason her death was so unsettling to me (besides the fact that she was only 58) is that I KNOW for a fact she was in a bad place emotionally. She felt defeated. She felt worthless. She felt as if her body had failed her and she'd failed herself. She had given up, stopped fighting and even told me she was afraid she was going to die.
And me...arrogant me. I didn't want to hear it. I believed in parental immortality. She couldn't die. She was my mother for God's sakes! Looking at it from this side I should be grateful she went on and on about how she hoped things would be after she died, despite my protests. Because of those musings I knew exactly what she wanted at her funeral and most of all I knew that she loved me. Because she told me every day.
And I loved her. I still do love her. I will always love her. And it KILLS me that I don't know if she knew that in that moment. Folks tell me she probably did. But I don't know. You know, I was supposed to go see her the Sunday before she died. She asked me to come wash her hair. She had these locks down to her butt and she couldn't wash them by herself. I showed up to do it (late cuz I had "important" things to do that day) and my stepdad told me she had taken her meds and was asleep. I was halfway up the stairs and turned back around to leave, thinking I didn't want to disturb her.
Why didn't I go updatirs and kiss her on her forehead like I usually do? Why didn't I take a moment to do that? I mean of course I didn't know this would be the last live encounter I'd have with my mother but I just really, really regret not doing that.
So my mind keeps going to that day, that moment. She let one of her dogs outside and...she collapsed. Perhaps she was having a heart attack. Perhaps she simply lost her balance and fell. From how she was when I came into the room at the hospital (she was already dead) her eyes were open when she died. What did she see?
I hope beyond all hope she saw her mother, come to collect her. I hope she stepped out of that failing body and was whole. I hope she took her mother's hand and walked out of that house that has ALWAYS reminded me of death and suffering and I hope she didn't look back. That thought makes me smile even through the tears I'm choking through this very moment.
Insofar as she can "hear" me from wherever she is now, I will keep telling her I love her. I honor her. And I'm so sorry I abandoned you the way I did. It's going to take me a long time to forgive myself for that. But I'm going to try because I know you always wanted me to be happy.
See? This is why I need my kids back. When they are around I can see the good that she created. This family, these descendants. I can see her personality in them and I can see how much of an influence she had on me as a mother.
Three more weeks. I can do this.
