Show and Tell

Tonight we had a bit of show and tell at my support group. We were asked to bring in a memory of our loved one so that everyone would be able to put a face with the story. I knew right away what I was going to bring. I showed the recipe scrapbook that I made for her. It wasn't necesarily a memory of her, but of the love everyone had for her. It showed the love she had for cooking. So many people took the time to write down their favorite recipe and gather a few pictures to send me for the project. It was six months in the making and I still remember watching her open it. It got passed around the room and everyone jokingly asked if the stuffing recipe was in there. It has been a sore subject lately. Everyone showed pictures of their loved one. "J" showed pictures of her daughter who died of lukemia at age 20. They got her a puppy and she named the puppy Chemo because he was therapy for her. She is going to have the dog trained to be a hospital therapy dog for sick children going through chemo. I think that is awesome. "L" showed pictures of her son. He was in his 20's. "N" showed pictures of her adorable little brother who was 4 years old I think. "P" shared pictures from a cruise of her mother who had dementia (sp?) It made everyones losses feel all the more real. It made the pain all the more real.

The ladies in my group are wonderful and I feel very lucky to have met them. We were brought together because of a tragedy in our lives and have bonded because of it. I hope we will remain in contact with each other. I'd like to hope we were brought together for a reason. Cornerstone of Hope was suggested to me by my friend Dean. We met on a dating site awhile back, but I can't help but wonder if there was a greater reason for our meeting????? He led me to this wonderful place and I am thankful to him for that.

"A" who lost her son forgot to bring her show and tell item tonight and somehow we got into a discussion on if she had any videos of her son (who was in his 20's) so that she could watch him and hear his voice. Suddenly I remembered the voicemails on my dads cellphone from my mom. I left the meeting and went straight to my dads. Called his voicemail. They were still saved. I stood in the family room in tears with my dad and Woody (friend) starring at me, wondering why I was crying. It was my mom....almost like she came back to life. Her voice filling my ear. I lost it. Tomorrow I will call my dad's cellphone company to see about getting those messages made into mp3's. I've heard it can be done. I don't want to ever forget her voice. It comforts me. I took her coat on the way out. It's been hanging by the back door since she wore it last. I don't think I'll ever wash it.

I don't think I can

What the hell is wrong with me today? I am a complete mess. I went to Kohl's to return a sweater and ended up walking the isles in tears. I saw so many things I could have bought my mom for Christmas. I can't buy her anything. There are snowmen decorations everywhere, she loved snowmen. I can't buy her any of them. I don't know how I am going to make it through the holidays. I don't think I can. I don't think I can.

April 30, 2009

"She told me that she loved me more than her own life....and that when she dies..she will watch over me from heaven. My heart is breaking in a million pieces."

I'm having a meltdown.
Today is a bad day.

Should I be mad?

Do you ever feel like you want to move away and start a new life? Just pack up and leave. Make new friends. I feel that way. I don't want to be known as the sad girl that everyone is tired of listening to when she cries about her problems. I hate being that person. I hate feeling like a charity case. I hate asking for help.

Some of the friends I have that I thought I was very close with, that I've known for 10-20 years....I have hardly heard from since my mom passed. Should I be mad? I am a little. I don't know....but it bothers me. I know that everyone has their own lives. But....I would have expected a little more from them. Then there are others that are very helpful and suportive until something better comes along to take up their time. Then you are left feeling abandoned. Should I be mad? I am a little. I don't know...but it bothers me.

I just feel abandoned in general. My mom abandoned me and I am left feeling like a scared little 12 year old who lost her mommy.

Maybe I am pms'ing...but people are pissing me off lately. It seems that I am always the one making the effort to contact people in order to keep in touch. Then it makes me feel like I am being to needy. I have decided I am not going to call anyone or email anyone for awhile. I have a feeling my phone won't be ringing either.



Note to Frank: I know you are reading this and the above statements have nothing to do with you. I love you guys and I miss having you as my neighbors. It was great to see you, Faith and Tyler yesterday.

:-(

I want my mom back.

Am I more talented than a 5th grader?

We got to play in the art room tonight. Well...it wasn't exactly all fun and games. We were asked to look at a list of emotions that we associate with the loss we have experienced...then pick a color of tissue paper to associate with that emotion. We got glue and big paint brushes and had to glue the tissue paper to a piece of white paper. This is what my emotions look like...

Some of the ladies got really creative and cut out shapes for each of their emotions. I just tore the paper, except for the hearts. Pink and red are for love. The love of my mother and feeling surrounded by the love of friends and family during the days of her funeral. The red cut out heart however...is for the the emptiness I feel. Its for the whole in my heart because my mother is gone. The orange is anxious. Purple is for helpless and exhausted. These two colors relate to when my mom was still alive. The constant worrying about test results. Worrying if she was going to eat that day or if she was going to be in pain. Exhausted from the worrying and crying. Not so much a physical exhaustion...but mental. I couldn't wait to fall asleep so my mind would stop. Green is envy. I envy everyone who still has their mom. I can't go shopping with her anymore. We can't bake together anymore. I'm envious of my sister-n-law for having the most amazing dream about my mom. Where is mine? All the shades of blue are for various sad emotions. Depressed, sad, miserable...etc. Pretty self-explanitory I think. Black is loneliness and fear. When a loved one dies....all your friends and family are around for those first few days...maybe weeks. But its now.....months later when I need those friends and family. It hasn't gotten any easier for me. I need the occasional phone call or email to see how I'm doing. Sadly...those don't come much any more. I may not be as lonely if I had a boyfriend to lean on.....but love seems to keep evading me. It seems I am destined to be alone. Lonely. Yes...alone and lonely are two different things. I am both. Fear.....I fear death. I fear cancer. I fear my father dying and being totally alone. I fear doctors. I have panic attacks days before my appointments.

Welcome to my life. Lovely isn't it? Should I get my artwork framed???

I forgot all ready

I didn't do so well with the writing down of three positive things that got me through the day on my last post. Here I go...

1. I got out and walked. Breathed in the fresh air.
2. I took pictures. I took my camera with me on my walk and photographed the beautiful fall leaves.
3. It was an easy day at work.
4. I saved a tiny little mouse from the jaws of death.

I'm still waiting....

My sister in law called me the other day...all excited because she had the most incredible dream about my mom. She told me about it later that night. Her and I were planning a party to introduce everyone to Alexis. She saw my mom standing outside the their swingset. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. She ran outside and asked my mom how she was able to be here. She said God let her come for this special day. Erin noticed that her hair was dark and asked my mom about it. She said...yes I went darker because I always liked this look best. Erin asked her if she was ok, if she was not suffering and if she is with her family. My mom sad that she is not suffering any more and she is happy. Her mom (my grandma) is there with her but said that my father (my grandpa) is still roaming the earth. Erin told her how happy she was that my mom was able to see Alexis this one time and my mom said....Erin, I'm the one that brought her to you. She went on to tell Erin that she loves us all, that she checks in on us and that she is ok.

I was in tears as Erin was telling me this. What an incredible dream. Where is mine???????? I'm the one who needs it most! How long do I have to wait??? Why won't she come to me??? Does she know that I cry myself to sleep every night because I miss her so much? I just need a sign.

Three things

Todays group was helpful. I didn't cry as much today. I actually think that my fellow "grievers" are more insightful than the councelors. Its really comforting to be in a room full of people who understand. Who turn to you after you say something and go "I know exactly what you mean."

I mentioned that I write in a blog and that I recently read back thru all of my old enteries and said how miserable and depressing they were. It seems that I only write here when I am sad. Someone mentioned keeping a journal and making a point to write down three positive things that helped you get thru the day. I am going to give it a try. While I may only write here when I am sad....I will try and end my entry with a few positive things.

This might be harder than I thought. Sadly...I can only think of one today.
I saw a really cute guy and he made me smile. He always makes me smile.

Busy busy

I went to visit my beautiful little neice yesterday. I just looked at her and she starred back at me. I got teary-eyed while I was holding her. I whispered in her ear....."your grandma loves you". We dressed her up in her halloween outfits so I could take pictures. The poor little thing....every time I come around flash bulbs are going off in her face.

Tonight is week three of my grief support group. The last two have been really hard on me and I hope today is a little better. The last two meetings..I have left feeling more miserable than I did before I got there. They keep saying that the first few meetings are the hardest.

It's a busy week this week. Usually I have nothing going on, but this week every night is booked up. Tomorrow I have meetings downtown during the day for work. then a few friends are coming over to carve pumpkins. I am looking forward to a night with the girls. Friday dad is having hernia surgery. Of course he schedules it on my day off so I am the one who has to take him. I really don't want to sit at the hospital. Since my mom.....I don't want to be anywhere near a hospital. I guess I can go see the new Gerry movie that comes out...but I really don't want to go alone and I don't know where any theaters are in Parma. What to do?

Haunting memories

Tonight was my second grief support meeting. It was just about as rough as the first one. Once again I was quiet vocal. Mostly through tears...but I talked. A lady whos 20 year old daughter died of lukemia in july...spoke this week. She couldn't speak last week. It turns out that her and I have a similar problem. We both have visions that haunt us. I was not there when my mom died. When I entered the bedroom where she layed...I saw a lifeless body with dried vomit streamed down the sides of her face. I have not been able to get that picture out of my head. It tells me that she did not die peacefully. That perhaps she was struggling and uncomfortable and in pain when she died. That kills me. Everytime I see that image...I die alittle more inside. The lady who lost her daughter...was in the hospital with her when she passed. Her daughter was gasping for a breath and blood started dripping from her mouth. She too is haunted by that vision. The counceloring tell us that once we start to heal...those haunting images will be replaced with a happy image of our loved one. I hope that happens soon.

I came home tonight...exhausted and emotionally drained. I saw a box (not my cat that is still missing) on my front porch and wondered what it was. Then I remembered the stone I ordered for my "Peace Garden" I am putting in for my mom. The stone is engraved with a saying that my good friend Lisa had put on a picture she had made for me after my mom died. It reads..."if love could have saved you, you would have lived forever." So the crying starts all over again.

I put the stone in the garden and started walking the street in heels crying like a baby and calling for my cat. It's not like her to not come home. She loves me. She follows me everywhere. Where is she? Is she hurt? Hungry? Does someone have her? Is she trapped somewhere? Is she dead? I keep looking out the front door to see if she is there. She isn't.

Lucy.....come home!

Alittle help would be nice Mom.

I didn't think something as trival as making stuffing would get me so upset. Over the weekend I was visiting my beautiful little neice and Erin asked if we wanted to come to their house for Thanksgiving. I said sure...since I have no idea how to make a turkey. Why didn't I pay more attention in the kitchen when my mom was cooking all these years???? I said I'd like to try and make her stuffing. It's actually the stuffing that everyone on my moms side of the family has made. My Grandma, Great Aunts Annie & Nunu (omg.....I don't even know how to spell Nunu...it was my Aunt Helens nickname. No one called her Helen. Everyone called her Nunu. I guess my Uncle Jerry couldn't pronounce Helen...so he called her Nunu. She went by that name from that point on). My mom and Aunt Sharon made the stuffing too. I never paid attention to how she made it. I told her I wanted her to teach me...but I was too late. In preparation for Thanksgiving...I thought I'd better practice so I get it right. I have tried twice now and have failed miserably. Her recipe is very vague and so I am not sure what part I am doing wrong. There aren't many ingredients...so there aren't many things to mess up. I feel like a failure. I want so bad to get it right. It's important to me. It's important that this recipe is carried on. I want my mom to be proud of me. I don't want to let her down. I wish she would come to me in a dream and tell me what to do. I need help. Please mom. Help me.