Presents

Mother’s Day is coming up. Soon to be followed by Father’s Day. I don’t like this time of year because I’m bombarded by ads all over the place telling me where to get “the best gift for mom”. Even if I wasn’t watching tv, I saw a sign on a restaurant door or a couple emails in my inbox. Can’t escape it. 

In the past, a friend or two have suggested doing something to remember/honor my mother (or father) on these days or their birthdays. Rarely do I take follow that advice, but sometimes I think about it. My selfish wish for Mother’s Day would be to take my mom out to brunch or dinner and discuss my life. In real life, I probably wouldn’t do this. In real life, it’d be all about her. But I think this because it’s been almost 8 years since I’ve had a conversation for her. So, of course, my wish is to sit down and have these grand discussions. About M, seminary and how it sparked a change in everything I thought I knew, my job, my uncertainty about my life, my insecurities, my fights with my sister (or other family members), friends…

Even though I like to think I’d talk about it all openly with her, the truth is I don’t know if I would. 

All I know is that I would love the opportunity. 

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Change Always Coming

It’s normal for there to be highs and lows in life, right?

One of the many, unfortunate normals of life, I suppose.

There are some changes happening in my life, and I’m happy about them. For different reasons, including selfish ones. But I’ve found as they become closer and closer to taking place, it also makes me long to have my mother here. I wonder if I’m the only one or if my sister feels the same way. I’m sure she does.

I made a trip home recently. I usually don’t like going home…and tend to shy away from large family gatherings. As nice as these things are (I’ve written before), they tend to remind me more that my mother isn’t (t)here. This time was different though. We stayed with different people throughout the week. There was a fairly large family gathering. There was also some family drama (of course lol). But it was good. It was the first time, in a long time, that it wasn’t awful being home.  I guess that’s good. I’m sure it is..and I’m sure that means something.

But right now…I’ve given myself a timeframe for accomplishing things I want to do. One way or another it involves me moving this time next year. My sister is making some changes of her own. I know she’s nervous about it, I would be too. But I think it’s good for her. Change, however, makes us, almost involuntarily, want to look to our parents.

That’s the hard part. Looking for people who aren’t here. Not knowing, at times, who to turn instead. Or knowing, but still..it just not quite being right. For some reason I’m scared about my moments of longing for my mother overwhelms me…in this season of change I’ll be in not-quite-completely-new surroundings. And I’m not sure how I’ll express myself…or if I will. That will be something I’ll have to work on.

I saw the following quote on Goodreads semi-recently:

“A daughter without her mother is a woman broken. It is a loss that turns to arthritis and settles deep into her bones.” – Kristin Hannah, Summer Island 

It’s been almost 6 years. SIX years. I still can’t believe it. Almost 2 for my father. My age doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, I’m still a little girl wanting her parents.

I screenshot the quote when I saw it. Sometimes I feel like I’m drawn to sad things. But I don’t need to be reminded of this quote. It actually embodies some of what I read in a book about women whose mothers have died. Quite accurate it is. I think I keep thinking that it’ll get easier the older I get. Even though I know it’s not true. In some ways, it actually seems to be ‘getting’ worse.

Baba

Disclaimer: Again, I ask for forgiveness for any typos/grammar mistakes. I wrote this fairly quickly & didn’t reread it all. 

I think this is the 1st time I’m writing something entirely (or at least mostly) about my father. By far, I talk about my mother more, though I feel both their absences so strongly. If I’m honest, sometimes I feel that I miss her more, which, at times (or maybe just in general), I do. Maybe not. But, then again, I think it makes sense. My parents were separated, reunited, and then divorced, when we were young. On TV/in movies, a divorce is often a horrible ordeal..even if the parents are amiable about the whole thing, the kids are usually upset by it. Not so with my sister and I. I think my parents only needed to be together to have us, but, other than that, it didn’t seem to work.

Even before they got separated, somehow I don’t have too many memories of my father being around. Then, once the divorce was final, he moved to another state. We were fine with it. I can recall being seemingly forced to go visit him over the summers. Part of the custody agreement.  We didn’t really care to go visit my father. I don’t think the main thing we disliked was going to see him, but we found his city extremely boring. I also tended to think, as a teenager, that he assumed he knew us just because we shared DNA…but in my mind, he wasn’t around that much, and we saw him once a year. What could he possibly know? I cried once, after something happened…I can’t even remember what it was, but I don’t cry easily. I just remember my sister phoning my mom and telling her that he’d made me cry.

My father died in 2013. It was only in 2008 that I truly believed he loved me. And only in the past few years that our relationship, to/for me, started to mend. When my mother died, my world was shaken. Though I still had my father, I still felt utterly alone. Slowly, that changed a little bit…after he died, I realized I would miss what could have been. I had only just started feeling that our relationship was getting better. The day he died, I was supposed to be leaving to go visit him.  I was excited to go..I hadn’t seen him in a couple of years. I felt guilty about that afterwards…at planning or beginning to plan an earlier trip, but I didn’t go. Either because I couldn’t or I changed my mind and postponed it. I was planning to give him a mug from the school I attended for graduate school. Because he likes tea. I was also planning to get him a large print Bible because he’d said at some point he needed another one. I was packed. I was ready. I had a graduation picture (from undergrad) to take with me as well, a big one..because I remembered/thought I’d only given him a small/medium one. After he died, once I got down to his city…I was shown the graduation picture I’d sent him previously. He’d had someone laminate it. Apparently he was really excited about me coming too…they had planned to have lunch set up for us in this common room. I was angry with myself, for putting it off. I was angry that it happened the same day my mother died 4 years prior. I was sad that it happened under the same circumstances as my mom: random, before Christmas, the semester before I was to graduate.

My father was an intensely private person. I knew this, but found it to be true even more, speaking with his/our relatives. I, too, am somewhat of a private person. I have to push myself to reveal the depths of my heart and, even then, I still have to push myself…and then I might not do it lol In my last post I talked about my introverted nature. I know I got that from my father. Oddly enough, I think I got my intense love for people from my mother..although it can be hard, that combined with being an introvert. They say hindsight is 20/20, and I find myself thinking more often about which parts of me I inherited from my father. Just like with my mom, I find myself thinking about calling him to update him on things. With Father’s Day coming up, I find myself also thinking about how I/we never…rarely got him a Father’s Day card on time. I am still struggling with some things I found out after his death. And I know part of the reason I didn’t go see him earlier was because I was still, whether consciously or unconsciously, holding things from our past against him.

All these things I know to be true. I miss the lunch we didn’t get to have. I miss the opportunity to show him pictures of my friends, discuss my classes, my ideas for the future. To learn, from him, about my family on his side. As I mentioned, I miss the opportunity to fully repair our relationship..or to see what it would have continued to grow into. My mother once told me my father had a hard time showing love. I can attest to that.

So much of me is him. I can’t pretend I’m not still confused/upset about…various things. Things that have made the grieving process even harder. But, I suppose, at least, I can say, finally, that I know he loved me.

Definition of Success

It would seem I have succeeded in cutting myself off/pushing away from my family. Not all of them, but some of them. I talked to my aunt today back home..she is the oldest girl, I believe, out of all of my aunts. Her and my mom are REALLY close. I’m pretty sure they would talk like everyday. She asked me if I had heard from anyone else in the family and I told her no. Aside from my sister and..maybe two cousins, I don’t talk to anyone else. Talking to her made me really, really miss my mother. I started to cry on the phone. I haven’t cried in awhile. It felt like it had been stored up. I remember Silent Authority (at least I think it was her) asking me if I felt like I had grieved for my mother. My answer was no. I have and am holding on tightly to this pain, though I don’t always acknowledge it. Today I had a brief glimpse of what is going on inside my heart and I didn’t like it. I think, in part, because this move and starting school is so terrifying to me, it peeks out because in the midst of all of this, I want my mother so badly.

Anyway, I haven’t talked to my family down here in a long time. I have to call them and tell them I’m moving. They don’t know about anything that has happened. They know I got in to school, but don’t know when I’m moving. And they don’t know I had surgery. I don’t know. I told my Big Sis I would call, so I have to or I will never hear the end of it from her lol But I’m definitely not looking forward to it.