Life goes on.
2006-06-05
12:02 a.m.
Thank you to everyone for your prayers and thoughts for me and my family. I appreciate them very much.
It's weird the way a sudden death affects your life. For most people, the shock is...still quite a shock, but they've gone on with their lives. For the members of my family, though, we are all still reeling, if not more so, from the sudden death.
Today has been an awful day. I have cried long and often, and my husband has done his best to comfort me, but there just isn't a way to soften the blow.
I worry about my brother(s)* and how they're reacting. Being that I was actually present at the hospital, I feel like I didn't have quite the shock my brothers did. The oldest one didn't know Mike was even in the hospital, and the younger one had a daughter graduating from high school that night, and a bunch of in-laws in town to boot. When he called that morning, I told him Mike was in the hospital, they were giving him oxygen, and thought he had pneumonia. I just felt like he had so much on his plate already, without feeling torn and anxious all day, too.
And my mom, bless her heart, has been to hell and back over the last two years, and I'm finding out she is stronger than I can ever hope to be.
Gently but surely, I feel at times she is grooming me for her role in the future, and I find that both flattering and terrifying. By grooming me, I mean she makes remarks about my strength, or how much she appreciates the role I've taken in the family. All I've done is come to her side when she needed help or support. She tells me often that it is the mother that holds a family together, and what a good job she thinks I am doing.
My mom has always been my biggest supporter. All my life she has planted in my head the positive affirmations that have helped me reach any goal I've attempted to attain. I know just how she plants those subtle thoughts -- her modus operandi, if you will -- because I now use them on my boys.
In other words, I'm on to her, and I want to tell her to stop, that I know what she's doing, because the thought that one day she may not be there to take care of everything while I stand beside her and hold her purse make me want to quiver in my bright red, round-toed Keds, as I still see myself at her side sometimes.
And no, I don't think I'll lose my mom any time soon. She is 70 years old, working full time, and has absolutely no intention whatsoever of retiring. In fact, she went to work yesterday, on her day off, just so she could attend training on a new software she'll be using because she doesn't want to get behind.
In between bouts of melting down today, I did manage to hook up a Slip 'n Slide for the kids and watch them have a great time on it before a brief thunderstorm ran them inside. And tonight I watched them outside at dusk, Oldest Son helping Youngest Son find and catch little bright green grasshoppers. Who has time to cry when you can watch the magic of your kids busy forming bonds that will last their whole lives?
After dark, I stuck my head out the back door and told them to come in and NOT to bring any grasshoppers in the house. When he came in, Youngest Son announced just a little too eagerly to Hubby and I that he didn't have a grasshopper in this pocket (demonstrating by pulling it insdide out), but stuck his hand down deep in his other shorts pocket. The panicked look on his face as he started wildly searching the den floor around him cracked us both up.
We've been talking to him about the difference between lying and just kidding, but the look on his face was punishment enough. :)
What a long rambling entry this is, huh? I guess what I'm saying is, first, thank you to everyone, and it looks like life will be going on as it's planned, no matter how much I try to sway it to go my way.
Over and out.
(*) I grew up with two brothers, both older than me, though I always knew I had another half brother. He was from my dad's first marriage, and he was adopted by his new stepdad when his mother remarried. After my dad's death, my mother contacted him, and he was eager to meet my brothers and me. He is a good bit older than me (16 years older), has the same name as my dad, he looks like my dad, and he also has some very opinionated thinking like my dad. It's amazing how much he's like my dad, not to have been raised by him.
I like him, but I can't say I love him like I love my brothers I grew up with. In fact, at times I am often uneasy around him, as if there is a piece missing. I have only recently figured out what he's missing is my dad's sense of humor and lightning quick wit. I hope to one day adjust to these lacking traits and accept him more fully.
1 comments so far Megan - 2006-06-06 09:04:08
It's hard to believe that you can actually give yourself permission to enjoy life's daily moments (your boys catching grasshoppers on a dewy evening) in between boughts of sadness. You can. You will. It's obvious that your mother already knows how to begin the art of mending. Believe me, I know. I lost a husband 17 years ago. I've since remarried. Piece by piece I stowed away my pain and taped it all inside a box. I know exactly where that box is, though, and every detail of what's inside. You'll eventually do the same. I'll pass on to you what someone else told me -- You will smile again.
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