Posts Tagged ‘mourning’

Smiling happy families sitting in front of roaring fireplaces, wearing festive holiday sweaters and sipping cocoa. The picture image of a christmas card to be hung for all to see. Norman Rockwell images of a life that all attain to reach. the problem is that this does not really exist. We think that other people have these lives. The grass always being greener on the other side. We want to have what they have, be happy as they are. This is something that is only a myth though. We might see the picture perfect families and feel envious of them, but the truth is that no one really has this perfect life. Everyone is flawed, everyone has little cracks in their make up that show a little of the true life and heart that hides with in.

This is not to be a glum post, pre christmas. This is merely to be a post explaining that no one is perfect. No one has a life out of the perfect holiday movies. The key seems to be that we make the best out of what we have. I have realized this more and more. I can make the choice to focus on the things that make my life a little bit better. It is my choice if I want to be down, dwelling in the gutters of life. This is not forced upon me, this is not something that I have to live and feel. I can do differently and better. Also though if I deny the past, deny what has shaped me and marked me I am doing a disservice as well. The past has happened, I can’t change it, that is where the dangerous thoughts come in. I can learn from it and realize there is a better way through.

Yesterday was a day where I could have made the wrong choice. I could have felt sorry for myself and grieved over the losses of my past, most obviously with the anniversary of my mother’s passing. I did not though. Yes it was on my mind, and I miss her. But I did not think of how I could have done better and felt pitiful for myself in her loss. I just tried to live the day as well as I could and for the most part it was a success.

Life is never quite as we expect or want it to be. The perfect cookie cutter image does not exist except only in our imagination. We all do what we have to. We live our lives and survive through every day. Some days are better than others and in the end we can hope that the good outnumber the bad.



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No goodbyes

It is late at night for me. I am tired and probably should not be writing anything, but as is the norm my mind is always off on its own and tonight it brings me to a place I tend to pretend is not real. Little more then 19 months ago my mom was taken from me. Taken from the world, the rest of her life snuffed out and a potential future winked out of existence. She was only 45 years of age, decades of life left ahead of her. Decades of life with out her.

Many years ago

Was it a mistake. She struggled with pain killers and other medications for too many years. We all looked down on her, but coming from a fellow addict, in the end I know I was a hypocrite to pretend like she should just stop. “What is wrong with you, knock it off!” My addiction came from a glass bottle instead of a little orange bottle with a child proof lid. Just because I did not need a prescription or a dealer for my fix did not mean it was any better situation then hers. For years it was an elephant in the room. I could not really earnestly talk to her about it even though I wanted too. I wanted to badly, but I never did enough. I should have done so much more. Again everyone will tell me this isn’t true. You can’t change some one else’s make up, you can’t always make them see the truth. Maybe this is the case, but you should still give it your heart to save them. Another moment in life I would relive to make a better choice, make the right choice.

In the end I think she knew how bad she really was. we loved her but she had to move away and be on her own. Away from me, us, her family. It was a family unhinged and torn apart. Shame most likely lead her to evacuate all that she knew for 25 years. Still, blood and history had sealed us together, no matter what the situation had become. I loved her through it all. Even though she chose to be so many states away, among no one that she knew. That seemed to be a better solution for her. Being among the unknown and within a new existence. Life with no history and no one to judge. Much of this may be theory or just an idea, it might not be true, but dealing with many of the same issues that she had I can sense this is the way it was.

She was gone, but still we always talked. Many would do what they could not to talk to her. I always answered though. She would always be my mom. She would always be my friend. She accepted me, with all of my flaws even though I did not always do the same. Even when I made decision she did not like, like reuniting with the one I loved, which led to a failed marriage, she was not happy in the beginning but grew to accept and include the other woman in my life. She wanted to include her in our family. I will always give her credit for that. Better than I in some ways, not always in others. Anyways we always talked, I did this because we had an understanding. Things might not be good, there might be tension, there might be unresolved past issues, even with all of this, if you just wanted to talk about your day, my day or just what was going on in the world, I would listen, I would share. I would not stand for beating up others in my family verbally and I would not do the same of here. Every one makes mistakes, everyone has a darkness in them and some of us cannot control that as well as others. But if she wanted to talk about the football game I would be game.

It may have been a charade, we may have been ignoring something that was deeply important. What had happened to our family, what was happening in our lives to bring us pain or the demons that had their grips in us. Through this I had the illusion that she was doing better. I thought she was finding some real peace or atleast some respite from the stress that was her life in the rural northwoods. Apparently I was a fool unlike many others. Just a day after I had thought a family portrait would be a great gift for my family and especially for the woman who raised me, she always asked for new pics of the family, she was gone. She went to bed after taking her medication, who knows what or how much or what cocktail, and that was it. She was ripped from my life. Taken from me, from us. The moment I heard is still unbelievable. My dad and brother standing in my living room, like the police came to my door to bring me the news. So much emotion overtook me, disbelief. I even asked if they were serious as if this would be a good idea for a sick joke. The pain is very real, but her being gone is not because she was already so far away.

There were no goodbyes for me. Nothing was left but a box of ashes. A human life renderred down to a few pounds of ash. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust. I miss you mom, I still think I see you every day.

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