Short

Either way I lose...

Still not done yet...

I am back from my second trip to NY. I made this one by myself to maximize the space in my SUV. My heavy heart has been made heavier by the fact that I must go back at least one more time... AT LEAST! I can't believe how much stuff one person could acquire over a lifetime, a lifetime cut short none the less. And let me reiterate the point that she never threw anything away as I found the invitations to my wedding, my wedding shower, my sister's wedding and shower, even a piece of paper from my registry.

Today I sorted through hand bags... Mom loved hand bags and in the end apparently went on a little(ok big) shopping spree for bags. The majority of the bags are still in the packaging, but the ones that have been used were very used. I mean stuffed to the brim used. I always gave her a hard time about the amount of stuff she had in her bag, but really, I guess I had no idea.

Anyways let me tell you about a dream I had my first night in NY. I ran into mom at church. I was walking with Christopher and there she was. I think she was wearing the outfit she wore to my high school graduation. She was gone, but we could see her. I asked Christopher if he knew who she was, but he didn't, and when I told him he just looked at me with a confused look on his face. She told me I looked great and asked me what she looked like. I told her that she was young and looked great. That was it, but it felt so real, even now, I feel like I just had a visit with her.

I was really sad afterwards because even though I have known this for sometime, it felt like a punch in the gut that Christopher won't remember her, that he doesn't remember her now...

And now I am home again, thrust back into my normal everyday life. I am exhausted, overwhelmed, anxious, and blah...

Does it ever get easier?

Today was the one year anniversary that a good friend lost her mother to ovarian cancer. This disease sucks. Tonight I am wondering if this achy emptiness will ever go away? Does it ever get easier to live without your mother?

I think I need a pick me up

As I am sitting here alternately looking at the screen and my bowl of potato chips and chocolate chips, I have to wonder if chocolate will really help me feel better. I usually have a desperate need for chocolate when I'm feeling down, but then have loads of regrets when I am done and have a belly ache.

It's my fault I am feeling down, although I can't go into detail, I know I did this to myself. As I made lunch for the boys today I was overcome by sadness and loneliness and for the first time in a while got teary and really wanted my mom. I just wanted to call her and tell her what was bothering even though I knew her response to that particular issue was always the same and always made me upset, but wanted the comfort of the old days, of only a year ago. Some days I feel like, how could this be a year already, and other days it feels like more than a year has passed.

I shall be spending lots of time with God today, praying for a little more peace and a little less anxiety.

All dressed up and... hanging in the closet.

A few weeks ago I wrote about the dress that my mom wore to my sister's wedding. The perfect dress in both our opinions. The dress that every time we pictured her, we saw her in that dress. Her husband couldn't even begin to guess where that dress or the dress from my wedding was in the days before her death, so we were sent out to buy her something to be buried in. After hours of dragging two infants through a mall in Brooklyn we finally settled on a black skirt and a crimson red top. It's not what we had in mind, but it was still her.

Well, during my last task of the day when I was in NY, I emptied a hallway closet where I found both dresses. I took the one from my sisters wedding and put it on the side for a little while. I couldn't decide what I wanted to do with it. Would I let it hang aimlessly in my closet year after year, collecting dust and bringing a tear to my eye every time I passed it? After I finished with the closet I gave the dress one more look, folded it up and placed it in the bag with the rest of the clothes.

For me there is no need to hang on to that dress because I will always remember her in it.

What I have found so far

I sorted through 7 boxes and an obscene amount of plastic bags in 2 days. I couldn't wait to do it once I got home. If that last sentence sounded like excitement, it wasn't. The need to do it immediately was that I didn't want piles of sadness taking over my life or another nagging task on a to do list. My brain worked in several different thought processes through this, they are as follows; 1)I want to see what is here that can tell me the story of my mom. 2) I want to get this done as soon as possible so I won't get overwhelmed when I have to go back and get more stuff. 3)I can't have another nagging task on my to do list, so just get it all done at once. 4)I need to get this done for her.

I think number four has probably been my number 1 driving force. Every single day my mom would say how she had stuff to go through and how she was trying to do a little bit at a time. I had no idea what that meant. But after many offers to go see her and help, I inherited the task(thanks mom) and feel that it is my duty to do it once, and do it right. A small tribute, maybe, but even in her death maybe it is a favor?

I have found things that I didn't know she had. Some shocking things, some sentimental things, some junk, some treasures. I wonder if she remembered that she owned some of these things or if they all just got mixed up with all the rest of the things...

Truth is, mom never threw things away, a fact that I just learned. I don't know the reason why and can only guess that after all of the things in her life that she lost, she didn't want to lose things too.

So now I am left with puzzle pieces of trying to figure out who my mom was. Of course I knew her, she was my mom, my best friend, a woman I talked to almost every day for a year. But now there is a story to be read from her stuff. The jewelry, the unopened(or barely opened) improvement books, books from different classes, unopened canvases for a painting set, an unopened calligraphy set, pictures from my grandmother's generation, every thank you card we ever sent her, grocery lists, journals and notepads never written in.

There is a bigger story here, doesn't everybody have one? I can't help but feel like a bit of an intruder though. What if there are things she never wanted anyone to see or read. How do I deal with the unexpected? How will that change how I think of her? I guess we will have to wait and see...

...

I have had so much on my mind lately that I haven't even bothered to blog about any of it. I just don't know where to begin. I guess I can start with the dreams I have been having. Last week I had a dream that my husband was dying, we knew the day and everything. In my dream I wouldn't go to bed because I knew if I did he would be gone...

Ok so my latest dream... My mom was having surgery and we couldn't get any information out of anyone. By the time I heard from someone they told me that they put my mom on a bus or a train to some other hospital, by herself. I freaked out because I knew she would be barely conscious and was scared of where she might end up.
My hubby and I got in the car and found her on the side of the road on a cold snowy night. Death followed....

Lovely dreams right? Both dreams felt so real, although the second one I felt like it brought me back to the whole year she was sick and all of the information we lacked through her entire illness. All I ever really wanted to do was wrap her up and take care of her... I know I couldn't have done more but I wish I could. It's been almost a year now and I really hope and pray that her death will never be in vain and that I can do something big in remembrance of her someday....