Wednesday, November 23, 2011

rolling with it

 mister is asleep on the sofa next to me as i tippy-type various angst-filled posts that may or may not sometime be published. his breathing is slow and deep as his crossed arms over his chest twitch every now and then. i feel ever-so-slighlty train wreckish and i think it's just a cycle i go through. call it depression or moodiness or simply the holidays, it is what it is and it hits like clockwork.

it's not surprising really. at least to me. my mother went into the hospital around this time just before she died. i had no idea she wouldn't be coming home. none. i think about her last Thanksgiving in a lonely room so far from her home and her comforting objects and my chest tightens. heartsick. i still feel so young. i feel like i shouldn't have to feel this way. that i am too young to not have her alive. we were close. crazy close. and i miss her. there are times when i miss her so much tears simply fall and other times i am so angry at her for things that cannot be changed. then there are times when i am so very mournful of what she went through, opportunities she lost, and the burden of her illness that my mind goes blank and i refuse, refuse to think anymore on it otherwise i might wail and wailing takes me to a place that i fear so very much.

so yes, it's the season. the season of sad. it can be bittersweet. it usually is. i gather up all my good memories of my mother and my family and the holidays and i fling them about in hopes that i can feel the warmth and charm of my mother. sometimes i succeed, mostly i do not because when i open myself up to it all, it lets all sorts of other into the mix. nothing like the holidays to remind you that you are the last of your traditions. i hold onto them so so so tightly. i wonder why when i know there is no point, no one, no child or children to pass them along to. ick, that sounds so desperate. but here's the thing, my best memories circle around those traditions my mother gave to me. those traditions that she shared even though her heart was broken. her person was broken. i need to share them but am unable to. at least in the manner i wish.

yet, through all this muck. this sad. this ick. i feel grateful and thankful for what i do have and how i came out of it all for the most part, intact (sad raccoon be damned). yes, there is melodrama and whininess and sad rants and such. i make no excuses for that. anyone who never feels these things is taking too many pills. i'm putting this out there because it is what it is. i feel sad. i feel blue. at some point tonight, i am sure i will laugh at something. i will feel inspired and i will write down an idea. i will smile to myself and i will remember my mother without tears. i will smooth back the hair that flops over the mister's forehead and feel my heart burst with all sorts of good feelings and i will slip into a pretty bed with velvety-soft vintage sheets, hippo under my arm, this song stuck in my head as i slip into slumber full of wonder and joy for all that i have.


  1. I lost my Mom on Thanksgiving Day 1987 about three days before my 15th birthday. I still get sad this time of year despite my best efforts to not. I know about still feeling like a kid sometimes and we were very close too. Just know you aren't alone in your sadness. It helps me to think that my Mom wouldn't want me to be sad, that she is more than half of who I am, she raised me, taught me so much and I always carry part of her in me. The good things she taught me live on still and that is a comfort now all these years later. I still miss her every day and miss the things that we would have talked and laughed about. I take joy in things that I know she would have loved, places she found peace in. That's what gets me through.

  2. I know just of what you write. The past few weeks have been so sad for me, and then the day after Thanksgiving, I get a call telling me a good friend died the night before, as Thanksgiving feasts were winding down across the town. She had been hospitalized for a couple of weeks, we knew this could happen, but it didn't seem quite right. I spent the day cleaning out her kitchen & bathroom cupboards. It seems that work and being busy always gets me through those dark times. Hope it works for you, too.

  3. I finally admitted out loud this week that I really really don't like this time of the school year. My dad also went into hospital and didn't come home (and I also had no idea), the last day of school before winter break my first year as a teacher. Now I always hate and dread the last week of school instead of happily anticipating my vacation. I think there's a balance to be struck between letting myself own my feelings and pushing myself just a little bit away from them. It sounds like you're working out your balance too. Every year is a bit different, but I'm wishing you lots of peace and good vibes this holiday season. And of course I'm wishing myself some too. xoxox