So...!?!

It's time to turn a corner for me.

When my brother called to tell me that my mom had passed on, my world kind of stopped.  My body/heart/brain decided this was all just too much, too much to handle all at once and it kind of went into survival mode. It was a waiting thing, waiting for her obituary, waiting for a plan, for a memorial, waiting to feel.  Waiting for it to be over.

I remember saying to my sister, "once we get through our memorial, it'll be done.  It'll be over and I'll be ok".  I am.  I'm ok.  

So!?!

Now what?

We move on.  There is so much out there for me right now!  Halloween, my beautiful boy turns NINE soon, Thanksgiving and Christmas and my holiday time off.  This really is my favorite time of the year and I'm going to sit back, smile and enjoy it...while planning a kitchen remodel.  Seriously,  I hope to get back into my Reiki, take some more classes and get back into my meditations again. I wasn't kidding about the kitchen remodel either.  The days of having only 3 feet of workable counter space are coming to and end - as well as washing dishes by hand!

And there is work.  For real, I love my job and I am really looking forward to what is coming up, to see where it takes meand to see where the path leads with this company.  I realize I could easily become a statistic and well...there are no guarantees anywhere anymore and should that happen to me?   You know...that is God's plan.  He'll lead me where I should be.

How about this family thing?  I've got it pretty good here, these people seem nice enough.  I bet if I put in a little bit more time and effort,this could be even better.  We have a few trips planned for next year and I'm looking forward to that time.  More smiles, a lot of laughs. Hopefully some great memories too.  I think I'll keep them!  See how it goes.

So!?!

Onward and upward.  Away we go!  Bigger and better than ever before!  With a smile and some laughs.

I am not a victim

I stood in the cemetary with my sisters, and my brother again, looking over the now three graves...my dad, my sister and  my mom.   I thought to myself, "Here I am again."  

The first time I was here was November 1st, 1983.  The night of my sister's funeral.  I was 10.  We didn't have a graveside service for her but, as I found out much later, we all went to the cemetary that night, at different times to say another good bye.

We all came back here together in September 1999 when I was 26 to bury my dad.

As I stood there with everyone this time, I kept thinking, "I'm 41.  And I'm here, again.  41.  The third time and now burying my mom.  It's not fair.   I'm too young to bury my parents, to lose my sister.  It's just not fair!  I don't want to be an orphan!"

Notice I didn't say victim?

Because I'm not.  

I'm okay. I don't feel sorry for myself and no, I still haven't shed many tears losing my mom.  There are some who think I should break down in a flood but, it's not time.  I don't know when I will but, I do know it will come when I least expect it.  Or not.  It might not come at all.  Me not shedding a slew of tears doesn't mean I didn't love my mother or that I wanted anything from her death, it simply means I haven't processed it all yet.

In my heart of hearts I believe God gives us challenges.  Some for us to learn, some for us to teach, some for us to help another.  I don't believe He intended for us to walk around this Earth pointing out our own hurts to others to make them feel for us.  I think He wants us to learn and use what we have learned to move forward, and share our experience to help someone else.

I have experienced much in this short time, yes.  It's not what I have experienced that makes me who I am but, what I have learned from it, what I have drawn, how I have moved on or grown.

I am not a victim.  I have experienced hurt and loss but, that isn't all that I am.  I have experienced joy and happiness too.  I like to think I am a combination of all those things.  Victim is not in there.  

As I hugged my sisters, my brother, and listened to the pastor with his guitar, I am thankful to have them, my family, as different as we are.  They hold my past, my memories, my home and my history.  They are each a key to my parents and a part of them like me.

There is one plot left at that cemetary and I truly hope it's not filled in my lifetime.  I'll visit my family the next time I'm up home, and I'll cry a little for my family that I miss so much, I'll wish my sister were here to laugh and to tease my brother with me, I'll wish to see my dad's eyes sparkle  with pride for me just one more time, and the next time, I'll add a wish for my mom and I'll miss her too...I'm sure...a few tears will fall just for her.

I'm not a victim. I don't need you to feel sorry for me.  I don't need pity.  There is so much more to enjoy when you move or look forward.  When I miss my sister or my parents, I miss the good things about them.  I don't dwell on the loss. I want Jacob to look back at me and remember the fun we had, not me being sad and bitter for my losses. I don't want him to remember a victim.

"Move the F* On"

"You can spend minutes, hours, days, weeks, or even months over-analyzing a situation; trying to put the pieces together, justifying what could've, would've happened...or you can just leave the pieces on the floor and move the fuck on"  ~Tupac Shakur

Odd selection for a quote, I know but, I'll make my point.  You'll see.

It's been a little over two weeks since my mom passed away.

My husband keeps asking me if I'm ok.  My in-laws find it odd that I don't need anything, any help. People don't understand that my mother and I weren't close.  They can't imagine going two years without speaking to their mother. No one really knows what to say to me.

Neither do I.

I've deleted and restarted this post at least ten times, no matter how I try, I cannot find words to adequately explain to you all of the things this woman, my mother wasn't.  Because you see, she wasn't your mom, you probably had a great mom and can't believe that any mom could ever be like mine.  I'm happy for you.  Seriously, I am happy for you. I'm not being a dick.

I have a handful of good memories with my mom and maybe one day, I'll be done being pissed off enough to share them.  Why am I pissed off?  Because she's gone and she'll never be sorry.  She'll never apologize.  She can never undo any of the damage.  She's gone and I'm left with this. Whatever "this" is.

These last couple of weeks, I've done a lot of people watching.  Watching how they act, how they treat other people, their kindness, or their truths.  What makes them laugh or how they handle tragedy.  I see people just being people.  Some are kind.  Some cruel.  Some are sly, some are direct.  I watched 51 people lose their jobs this week and each one of them reacted differently.  One thing I did come to understand, these people that are left are just here.  I'm not connected to them.  Even those by blood or by marriage, the choice is mine.  I can choose.  I can like them or not.  I don't have to be friends with anyone.  I don't have to like anyone.  The choice is all mine.

I'm not an over analyzer.  I'm more of an "it is what it is" person.

I've been looking at all of these pieces on my floor for a very long time.  You see, this girl had a daddy that liked jigsaw puzzles and this girl LOVED to help him.  We'd start with the edges, turning all the pieces over, trying this one, trying that one, and sometimes we'd come across one that we just couldn't fit anywhere - we'd just put it aside and come back to it later.  I think I'm kind of done with that approach.  I'm done with trying this piece or that, hoping it fits, trying to bring the picture together when the other pieces keep changing in front of me.  I'm done with chameleon puzzles.

Call me a quitter.  Say I gave up.  Maybe I am, in your eyes.

In my eyes, I know I am a fighter.  I've only changed the fight.  I'm fighting for me.  I'm leaving "the pieces on the floor" and I'm "moving the fuck on".