After seeing so many commercials on tv about Mother's Day soon approaching, I can't help but feel a little anxious about this Hallmark holiday, regardless of how Hallmark-ey it is. To me, it is much more this year.
I have slowly been anticipating Mother's Day since the first commercial advertising jewelry. And then another advertising shoes. And then another for clothes. Is this really what we have come to? Not only does our society market mothers in a cookie-cutter way by creating tens of thousands of generic greeting cards, but also takes advantage of making the big bucks by advertising more of the same junk that we give our mothers every year. Here Mom, I got you another set of slippers. Happy Mother's Day. Here's a Hallmark greeting card with a generic message that I did not write myself but that I hope you will like. It took me three minutes to pick it out today at Walmart.
Sometimes, sadly, it takes events like looking at your mom laying in a hospital bed with an IV pole attached to her arm to realize that this is not the way Mother's Day should be celebrated. Just one look at that bald little head and those big blue eyes told me to go another route. I bought blank cards, and I wrote a note to her that was special for the two of us, telling her how much I loved her and how much I wanted her to stay with me...that she couldn't leave me yet. I wanted her to know how much I loved having her in my life and what I wouldn't give to keep her in it. I painted her a picture of two angels, one taller than the other with her arms around the smaller one. They were looking at each other. You could tell how much they loved each other, and I gave it to her as her present. She kept it by her jewelry box on her dresser so she could always see it.
We buried her with it. I wanted her to always have it.
My heart aches some days more than others, and I am dreading having to even be conscious on Mother's Day. I have not felt this way about any other day so far. And it may turn out to be fine, but for right now, I feel like it will be the hardest, even over Christmas or my birthday. I already want to hide.
I was in Target with my friend Sara last week, and there is a huge display of Mother's Day cards. We stopped and looked at a few and picked out a really great one for her mom. Several days before, I picked some out for my aunts, but not actual Mother's Day cards. They're from the section that says "For Someone Special" instead of one that is actually for your mom. I got three, one for each of them, because even though they are not my mom, they have tried very hard to make things ok without her.
I started looking at some of the cards if I were to pick one out for my mom, and I gravitated towards the little-kid-cards, the ones with goofy dogs on them that said something like, "Thanks for all the things you do, and thanks for being my mom." I liked those best. I cried. A lot, actually, and I couldn't get a hold of myself for a couple minutes.
Instead of buying any cards, I got two Nerf guns for Adrian and I to play with in our new apartment. It made me feel better to get him something, and I put a big red bow on his and put it on his pillow so he would be surprised when he got home from work. It healed my heart for a little while to see him so happy just by receiving something so silly like a $5 Nerf gun.
I have noticed lately that my heart only feels better for a little while instead of longer periods of time like it used to. Maybe this all will pass when Mother's Day has come and gone. By the way, it's not even May yet.
I haven't painted in a really long time, mostly because I can't think of anything creative to do anymore. I know I am not myself anymore, and a lot of my heart is gone with hers. I have decided, though, that I am going to paint her a picture, even if I can't actually give it to her. Which is not fair. But will have to do for now, because I have no other choice in the matter.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Back by popular demand?
Well, I'm not so sure about "popular demand." This is more of a tongue-in-cheek joke, of course, but I have had several requests to continue writing, and figured today, being the first day I have not had thesis or schoolwork to focus on, would be the perfect day.
I have most definitely felt the effects of not writing regularly anymore, and that combined with several major life changes that my mom is not here to share have taken their toll more than I have wanted to admit. Easter was pretty difficult, which I did not suspect, but her presence was most certainly missed, and several days after that was the six month anniversary of her death. Needless to say, I struggled with that week and have continued to struggle, although it becomes less and less with each passing week, now that May is almost here.
I completed the final stage of my thesis, which is called a "defense." This term basically means that you present your work to your committee and defend your reasoning and research to the death, with most of their gripes being "pet peeves" rather than actual issues with the paper. Of course, I was granted with my final set of corrections, and walking through the parking lot back to my car, instead of breathing a sigh of relief that it was all over, I cried like I was seven years old. I wanted to scream, "I'm done! Does anyone even care??" My mom would have, and I wanted so badly to call her at work to let her know that it was over. She probably would have yelled "Woohoo" at her desk the way she always did when something good happened, and we probably would have gone out to dinner that night to celebrate. Instead, I did not talk to anyone, cried all the way home to my house, and laid in bed all night missing her. More heartbreaking than that was the realization that major things like this feel as ordinary as anything else without her here. Thesis defense? Just another Wednesday.
I have been working as a personal trainer at a local fitness center, hoping to make some money until I graduate and get my dietetic license so I can finally, after six years of school, get a "big girl job." I have placed 92 applications. All within the last month, I have been given my job back at the hospital as a tech so I can keep working on my clinical skills, and I have been promoted at the fitness center to their weight management and wellness dietitian. I can't call myself a "dietitian" yet since I do not have my license, but I will now be able to consult with personal training clients and discuss issues, goals, and nutritional concerns associated with their fitness level and health. Also, my boss wants me to host bi-weekly grocery store tours and support sessions for those who are struggling with either diet and fitness concerns. He is making it mandatory that each personal training client meet with me once a month to improve their diet and overall success. I will also be writing an article in the monthly newsletter, creating a "food of the month," hosting walking and running groups, creating teams for local charity events, and hosting cooking demons. For those of you who know me, this is a HUGE deal, as working as a wellness dietitian has always been my dream, and without my mom here, although I am happy for myself, something is lacking.
I also have an interview this week and one next week, both for completely amazing dietitian positions, both for prestigious companies and hospitals, both that can work around my wellness job. It's definitely a sense of relief to feel like I'm finally getting recognition for all of my hard work, but I am so sad that my mom isn't here to see it, after her never-ending encouragement through school and my internship, especially on days when I needed it the most. She always knew when those days were, and without her, I have had to dig very deep to muster the encouragement for myself.
My heart seems to heal and then is broken again by these types of things that should be exciting and thrilling in my life but somehow are not. Sadly, they are just another reminder that she is gone. Don't get me wrong, I am thankful to finally be in this situation, with almost being done with school, done with my thesis, graduating with my Master's, and having several job prospects. I'm happy and relieved, and the hurt I feel is quiet and stays inside, but it is there nevertheless. After six months, I am starting to wonder if it will ever fully go away. My guess is no.
The thing that keeps me going is knowing how proud she would be of me, which I can 100% guarantee would be even more so than I am for myself. I am now focused on building my savings account, paying off the one year's worth of school loans I have, working on wedding planning, and working with Adrian to provide ourselves with the means to start our life together.
Her memory is always with me, the good and the bad, and I must admit, after hard days at school or walking through the oncology floor at work, the bad days hit a lot harder than I ever can imagine. Something as simple as hearing the click-clack of heels walking through the grocery store makes me think of her and remember our trips to the store together, and I can't help but feel a sharp pang as I stand in the frozen food isle.
My life will never be the same, and I know this. I think after such a traumatizing, monumental loss in your life, you walk the fine line between thinking you will never be able to live without them to realizing you can and slowly learning how, regardless of the struggle. I am there.
I have most definitely felt the effects of not writing regularly anymore, and that combined with several major life changes that my mom is not here to share have taken their toll more than I have wanted to admit. Easter was pretty difficult, which I did not suspect, but her presence was most certainly missed, and several days after that was the six month anniversary of her death. Needless to say, I struggled with that week and have continued to struggle, although it becomes less and less with each passing week, now that May is almost here.
I completed the final stage of my thesis, which is called a "defense." This term basically means that you present your work to your committee and defend your reasoning and research to the death, with most of their gripes being "pet peeves" rather than actual issues with the paper. Of course, I was granted with my final set of corrections, and walking through the parking lot back to my car, instead of breathing a sigh of relief that it was all over, I cried like I was seven years old. I wanted to scream, "I'm done! Does anyone even care??" My mom would have, and I wanted so badly to call her at work to let her know that it was over. She probably would have yelled "Woohoo" at her desk the way she always did when something good happened, and we probably would have gone out to dinner that night to celebrate. Instead, I did not talk to anyone, cried all the way home to my house, and laid in bed all night missing her. More heartbreaking than that was the realization that major things like this feel as ordinary as anything else without her here. Thesis defense? Just another Wednesday.
I have been working as a personal trainer at a local fitness center, hoping to make some money until I graduate and get my dietetic license so I can finally, after six years of school, get a "big girl job." I have placed 92 applications. All within the last month, I have been given my job back at the hospital as a tech so I can keep working on my clinical skills, and I have been promoted at the fitness center to their weight management and wellness dietitian. I can't call myself a "dietitian" yet since I do not have my license, but I will now be able to consult with personal training clients and discuss issues, goals, and nutritional concerns associated with their fitness level and health. Also, my boss wants me to host bi-weekly grocery store tours and support sessions for those who are struggling with either diet and fitness concerns. He is making it mandatory that each personal training client meet with me once a month to improve their diet and overall success. I will also be writing an article in the monthly newsletter, creating a "food of the month," hosting walking and running groups, creating teams for local charity events, and hosting cooking demons. For those of you who know me, this is a HUGE deal, as working as a wellness dietitian has always been my dream, and without my mom here, although I am happy for myself, something is lacking.
I also have an interview this week and one next week, both for completely amazing dietitian positions, both for prestigious companies and hospitals, both that can work around my wellness job. It's definitely a sense of relief to feel like I'm finally getting recognition for all of my hard work, but I am so sad that my mom isn't here to see it, after her never-ending encouragement through school and my internship, especially on days when I needed it the most. She always knew when those days were, and without her, I have had to dig very deep to muster the encouragement for myself.
My heart seems to heal and then is broken again by these types of things that should be exciting and thrilling in my life but somehow are not. Sadly, they are just another reminder that she is gone. Don't get me wrong, I am thankful to finally be in this situation, with almost being done with school, done with my thesis, graduating with my Master's, and having several job prospects. I'm happy and relieved, and the hurt I feel is quiet and stays inside, but it is there nevertheless. After six months, I am starting to wonder if it will ever fully go away. My guess is no.
The thing that keeps me going is knowing how proud she would be of me, which I can 100% guarantee would be even more so than I am for myself. I am now focused on building my savings account, paying off the one year's worth of school loans I have, working on wedding planning, and working with Adrian to provide ourselves with the means to start our life together.
Her memory is always with me, the good and the bad, and I must admit, after hard days at school or walking through the oncology floor at work, the bad days hit a lot harder than I ever can imagine. Something as simple as hearing the click-clack of heels walking through the grocery store makes me think of her and remember our trips to the store together, and I can't help but feel a sharp pang as I stand in the frozen food isle.
My life will never be the same, and I know this. I think after such a traumatizing, monumental loss in your life, you walk the fine line between thinking you will never be able to live without them to realizing you can and slowly learning how, regardless of the struggle. I am there.
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