Someday

Today is not someday. Today is the day you are 15. Today is the day you lash out at everything I say. Yell at me, tell me you hate me and I’m the worst mom ever. Today is the day you seem to hate me and everything I do. Today is the day I disappoint you, embarrass you, anger and make you sad.

Someday you will realize everything I’ve ever done was out of love. Someday you will know that you are my world. Someday you will know I fought for you, for you to be my child! Someday you will realize you are my everything.

But today is not someday. We have to live with today.

Strength

Looking into your kind eyes

you beg me not to go

Frail and scared

you try to shake of the anxiety

You say “Hold Me close, don’t let go”

 

I hold you close

closer than ever before

You tell me how strong you are!

Yes Nana, you’re the strongest person I know

 

I think it’s the cold talking?

Maybe I am going a bit crazy or the fact that I am sick and I am tired of being sick. I already have chronic pain and then to have this three week “cold” on top of it has pushed me over the edge. My Dr. today tested me for whooping cough of all things. I just about died… Of course I am allergic to the DPT vaccine so when he tells me it looks like and sounds like I have it and need to be tested for it I scrunch into a ball and say NOOOOOOOOO!

Next came the horrible test where he tries to stick 6 inch Q-tips down my nose. I have to laugh at this because he tried and I swatted his hand away. So we tried again with this time getting in only a little further. He looked at me like I was a bit crazy and said we needed to do a bit better. So we tried again. Well, after about a half dozen times trying we were done. With one side!

I don’t understand what was wrong with me today? I have been poked and prodded for years because of my brain disorder but today the thought of something going up my nose was not going to happen. I should have been stronger and told my brain that I needed to do what ever I had to, to stop coughing. To stop being sick…

 

Throwing In The Towel

I have never been one to look at others and judge. You know the type who live their life feeling as if they are above everyone else. I have however never understood anyone wanting to walk away from their family. Just up and walk away. You read stories where they look happy, normal family, picket fence type and one day she just gets in her car and drives off into the sunset never to come back. Husband wondering why? Kids wondering what they did wrong? I have never thought much about any of this. Up until about a month ago and then it increasingly gets worse. My husband and my children, they need me… right???

Lately I have felt so alone. Maybe it is because they are older now and they don’t need me as much as they used to. Not only that but they push me away, say harsh things that I would have never said to my mother. But I also was raised by a single mother who we respected more than anything in this world. My children must not respect me anymore. Is that it, they don’t respect me?

I have resorted to locking myself in my room or leaving for a few hours because I just do not know what to do. I am tired of feeling alone when I am surrounded by people. I am tired of being told that I am hated by the people that are supposed to love me the most. I am tired of living this life, this ONE life that God gave me to live… like this.

Something has to change.

the end of 2014

By the end of the year my Dear Grandmother Laura passed. She was old in years and it was expected a women of her age and well lets just say an amazing life to have to die at some point. But you never really grasp it at the time. She was our matriarch. The one who held the family together. The strong Norwegian tall, with size 13 mens shoes. When you came into her home you were family. You were always given a hot meal, a sweet treat and a warm bed if needed. My whole life I looked up to this women. This strong women. So truth be told, watching her failing health the last few years of her life was hard. When we would visit and she would say that she was ready to go home to her heavenly father. To see may Grandfather, my father who had passed on before her I could understand. It must be hard going from a strong independent women to a frail, helpless women depending on others.

She had what the Drs thought to be a stroke. But with no test we will never know? I don’t believe them. She laid there in her bed for a week no water, no food. I brought my son the first day and she was non responsive. he was so upset. crying, telling me that he wished one more time to hear her tell the story how she was Grand Marshall in the parade and they road together in the convertible. It was their story! I told him to tell her the story. He did. As he told her the story she opened her eyes, as he got to the part where she taught him how to wave she lifted her arm and started to wave at him… We all jumped up and started screaming. Oh Tommy Boy! (that is what my Grandmother always referred to my son as. It took Tommy Boy to get Grandma to wake up!! That day and part of the next she was with us. She couldn’t speak, she communicated with her eyes and she moved her hands a little. I took my son home and came back with my daughter and we ended up staying the entire week. taking care of her almost up until the end. Swabbing her mouth, rubbing her head, hands, telling her we loved her, making she she was comfortable. Making the plans for after…

She died on Halloween.

Maybe its the pain talking…

I started writing a poem and erased it all.. my mind is so full of so many thoughts right now that I cant think clear. Im angry, sad, frustrated. All at once.. When your children are small and your in control you look into their little faces with so much hope and love and think about the future. Scared of what can be. As they get older it gets scarier, you lose control, they become more independent and want to branch off and do their own things. The more you try to hold on the more they try to push you away..

Im pretty sure my son is at the point of his life where he wants to be an adult but doesn’t understand that he is a kid. He wants to be respected but doesn’t understand that its earned not given to you. I wish I had all of the answers, I wish I was the mother my mom was growing up. Raising five children on her own she did such a fantastic job. Not one of us would have ever disrespected my mother the way my son disrespected me. Where did I go wrong? Do I buy him to many things? Do I do to much for him? I had him at a young age so I kinda grew up with him but I am the adult, he is the child and dang it I should be respected!

I hate to say it but I don’t want to look in his face. I don’t want to be around him. If I could take my daughter and leave for a few days to cool down I would. I know that sounds horrible. Im the adult, I am supposed to forgive and move on but some things that were said I don’t know if I can ever get pass… Some things he did I don’t know if I can ever forgive.