UPDATE to "Hold my hand"

I received the results of my mammogram. Thankfully, there are no signs of cancer. Huge sighs of relief were exhaled. Honestly, this is one area in which I want to be nothing like my mother. I don't want cancer. I don't want to have an abbreviated life. I don't want to suffer as I saw her suffer. I hate to sound selfish . . . but, I want that part of my life to be the polar opposite of my mother's.

Another Like Mother, Like Daughter

For as long as I can remember, my mother wore glasses. She tried the contacts thing when I first got contacts (as did my brother), but she didn't last long. Apparently she couldn't get past the "sticking her finger in her eye" thing. I remember I would giggle watching her try with all her might to put her contact lenses in. So, she pretty much stuck with glasses. I can't tell you how many pairs she had . . . one for when she did her hair and make up, one for when she was driving, one for when she was driving and it was sunny, one for when she was working. There were glasses everywhere. And, my mother looked so much better with her glasses than she did without her glasses.

Since I was around twelve years old, I've worn contact lenses. Since that time, I've probably owned two pairs of glasses, of which I've worn less than a handful of times and NOT likely worn in public. Every waking (and sleeping) moment, I had my contacts in my eyes. I couldn't imagine wearing glasses professionally as my mother did, let alone socially, as my mother did. I didn't think it really suited me.

Now, guess who has glasses? Yes, that would be me. Fancy shmancy new glasses. And, actually, I LOVE them. I picked them up yesterday and was like a kid in a candy shop. I kid you not. First, let me say, this is the first time I have ever been excited about a pair of glasses. EVER. Second, these are the coolest glasses I've ever had. Why, you may be wondering . . . Well, let's see, I went all out for these glasses which means they have transition lenses, ultra-thin lenses (well, as thin as you can get with my prescription, but still incredibly thin!), scratch-resistant lenses (that came with a certificate of authenticity?!) and anti-glare coverage. Wow - that was quite a mouthful. And honestly, my eyes are soooo happy that I don't have my contacts in right now. In fact, I haven't had my contacts in since yesterday afternoon. I can't tell you the last time I did that!

So, yes I am wearing my glasses professionally and socially. Hmmm . . . sounds like my mother. But, my glasses are a little hipper than hers. I guess in some ways, it's not such a bad thing to be like my mom, huh?

PS. The contacts are NOT retired!

Hold my hand?

Today was a monumental day. As I've mentioned before, there is a history of breast cancer on my mother's side of the family: my mother and her two sisters. My mother had a tumor removed, the middle sister had chemotherapy and radiation and the youngest had a lumpectomy. Upon hearing this and the fact that I had not had a screening yet . . . my doctor immediately wrote me a prescription to have a mammogram. It seems that the age for routine mammograms to begin is forty. HOWEVER, having a family history of breast cancer bumps up that inital mammogram from forty to thirty-five. I'm thirty six. Yeah, my doctor wanted a mammogram sooner rather than later.

Admittedly, this is something that I have put off for quite some time because I just didn't want to address the matter. My mother died of cancer . . . lung cancer that everyone suspects originated with the tumor in her breast. My two aunts have had to deal with cancer, though (thank heavens) they are still alive. I was so affected by this appointment that last night I was sobbing in bed saying I didn't want to have cancer. That I was just so nervous. My other half was so sweet that he even offered to come along. I said no because I knew this was, again, one of those things that I had to do on my own.

When I got to the medical center, the emotions started. Or at least they tried. I could barely speak above a whisper when I was registering. And the entire time I was on the radiation floor, I was on the verge of crying. I guess the tech sensed just how nervous I was and she was incredibly patient and nice while I was going through the procedure. But all I could think of was my mother doing the very same thing that I was doing. And then learning that she had breast cancer. I don't want to be her. I don't want what happened to her to happen to me. Truth be told, I feel awful for saying that. I feel guilty for even thinking that.

Now that the day has passed and I've had a little time to think, I am relieved that I finally overcame my fear and went to have this done. Ok, so I had a lot of help from my other half to get there . . . but I did it. We are both relieved. At least we'll know where things stand for me, in that respect. Nothing worse than an unpleasant surprise that could have been prevented. While I feel relieved, though, I realize it's just another one of those things for me that I wish my mother had been here to guide me through this one. It makes me miss her even more.

But I really do want to

This past weekend, my other half and I went to his cousin's wedding. It was wonderful to see his family and participate in such a wonderful event. At the reception, though, for about ten minutes, the family blues were written all over my face. For a split second, all I wanted to do was drive to my aunt's house and just cry. I thank my other half as he sensed it immediately and we went outside so I could compose myself. Then, he again posed to me that if I don't think I can look at our upcoming event with happiness and joy, then we do not need to have some big event. Part of me wanted to be upset at him because, really, I only got emotional for a brief period of time. But, the other, more rational part of me, said nothing of that nature because he's really only trying to protect me and have us do what would make me happy.

I know that I have brought this up before, but . . . the truth of the matter is that I truly do want to have a wedding where our families can get together and celebrate. It won't be some over the top affair, but something nice for everyone. And, quite honestly, I don't think my mother would want me to not do something like not have a wedding because of my moments of sadness and missing her. She was never one for letting her emotions run her in that manner. I know this, among many other big events in my life to come, is just another lesson for me to learn from. Another lesson to draw from the strength she has passed on to me to continue putting one foot in front of the other. Another opportunity to do her proud.

In the end, I think I will regret the things I don't do because of the thought of going through those times without my mother. I mean, seriously . . . am I not going to have kids because my mother isn't here? I think not. Am I not going to take a promotion at work (which happened recently) because she isn't here to rejoice with me? Nah. So, why wouldn't I have a wedding? It's something I so want to do. Yes, I get sad. A little emotional. But it doesn't mean that I can't do the wedding and do it well. I'm sure I'll be a tad emotional on that day. I'm sure her presence by many will be missed. I think to do it is more a statement of moving forward than not. In fact, I'd probably hear her yelling at me from above if I chose not to do it simply because I miss her and, well, because I want my mommy to be here through the planning process and on the day of. What daughter wouldn't want her mother on her wedding day?

The truth of the matter is that she isn't here and I have to continually remember to accept that fact. And then recognize that there are strong, good women in my life. In her absence, I am starting to learn, if I allow it, there are others who are willing to guide, advise and support me as I continue to move forward.

Will the real you, please stand up

There have been days when I realize I have nothing substantial to add to this blog. Then there are the days when all I can think of is writing for this blog. But I seem to have trouble finding the in-between.

Nevertheless . . . my father was in town for a short visit. He arrived late Saturday night and left yesterday. It was not a good visit, at least in my eyes. In fact, it was a horrible visit. So why am I writing about it here? Well, reflecting on his trip, and even while he was here, I realized just how much he has changed since my mother died.

I understand that his wife of a sigificant period of time, the mother of his children is gone. I realize that he is and eighty-two year old man who is still angry at the world and still has not moved forward. He has become more ornery, irrational and unreasonable. Worst of all, though, while he asserts himself to be infallable, he does so at the expense of everyone else around who loves and cares about him. It seems he has mastered the art of manipulating people into just the position of "damned if you do, damned if don't" so he has something fight. He yells and looks like he's just about to explode so you just end up agreeing him to placate him. He laughs when others are upset or in tears. He's like a child, but more unmanageable.

Seeing all of this makes me realize that no matter how hard I try to be the glue to keep this family together, I can't. Seeing all of this as a married woman, I understand more and more why it is that my father could be the very reason why my brother doesn't come to visit more often, and when he does come to visit, he and his wife stay for an extremely short period of time. Seeing all of this makes me realize that I really have to do what it takes to protect my family, my future children from this volatility. Seeing all this makes me realize that my father is, in a sense, completely lost without my mother.

My mother was the one who kept my father in line. She was the one who made sure he was socially appropriate. That he was kind to those around them (even though she could be quite the pushy one herself). She was the one who made sure that they enjoyed life and what they had not only themselves but with family and those around them. And now, I see that my father doesn't trust anyone. Including me. He conducts himself as though everyone is trying to take advantage of him. Thus, he has an incredible control issue that rears its ugly head every single opportunity that my father gets.

At least with my mother . . . what you saw is what you got. My mother was one incredibly tough boss and mother. And when things didn't go as she dictated, you heard about it. But, when things went as she dictated, you heard about it and then some. You KNEW it was a job well done. My mother was true to her word - good or bad. On the other hand, I see more and more that my father is NOT his word. In varying situations, I witnessed that he cannot be trusted to be true to an agreement - verbal or written. And his attitude is, well, it's going to be this way now and if you don't like it then go F yourself. Ok, so he doesn't say "go F yourself", but you get the point.

My father has always stressed over and over again to my brother and I that we can really only count on each other. Um - untrue. How can I count on my father when he cannot keep his word. And even worse, how can I count on him when I know he is lying. To my face. Each time I think things will be different, it is quite the opposite and I'm left even more and more disappointed. With my mother, you knew when she said something, she was going to do it. Yes, when she grounded me for four months (yes, four months) after I got my first "C" ever on a report card . . . I was grounded for four months. No joke.

This visit with my father left me realizing that things have changed so much since my mother died. He's a different man. Sometimes for the better, but of late, not so much for the better. My mother isn't here to rein him in and keep us functioning as a family. These are shoes that try as I may, I cannot fill. I have my own family to keep together and protect. And hopefully, someday soon, that family will expand. I cannot have such volatility around my family.

I'm at a loss. I think I finally see that when my mother died, she clearly took the father I knew with her. And that is a new adjustment.

Ta da!

So, this past weekend was Mother's Day. And, well, I think I pulled it off with more grace than I have since my mother passed away.

I spent the first part of the day running around going to the market to make sure there was food in the house for this upcoming week. While I was at the market, there were quite a few mother/daughter combinations as the Race for the Cure walk had just ended. And rather than look at them with resentment and bitterness, seeing them made me smile. I can't exactly explain the reason . . . all I know is that it filled me with joy to see these women embracing each other and their families. I hope that one day I'll know what it is like to embrace the mother-child relationship.

The next part of my day was spent with my other half's family. And, let me just say that it was not chock full of me being angry at the world. Yay! There was a little bit of weirdness and difficulty for me. And I think I was only overcome with emotion twice . . . which I was able to quickly nip in the bud. I also credit the other half for comforting me, but not making a huge deal about the fact that it's Mother's Day and I'm vulnerable to moments of weakness. It wasn't a day full of "are you ok?" or other questions to remind me that I stood in that house motherless.

The last part of my day was spent talking with my other half about how I felt throughout the day. And, yes, there were some tears shed for a period of time - not too long. But, long enough. It was different this time, though. The tears weren't angry tears. They weren't bitter tears. Rather, they were just tears of missing my mother. That's it. I've come to such a peaceful place in my life that I miss my mother so incredibly because I think she would be so happy and proud. She would see that I have finally put the pieces together and the picture is quite beautiful and fulfilling. It's these moments of growth and accomplishment that leave me in that place of just missing my mother and having her here to share in my growth.

It only took me just shy of ten years to get to this point. But, the rewards and happiness that I feel when I think of my mother, I can say was well worth the wait.

I miss her, though. Incredibly.

At sea

Ever have a period of time where it feels like nothing is clicking? One’s up, the other’s down. One’s angry, the other’s happy. One feels slighted, the other feels just as slighted. One tries to make peace, the other ignores. One feels an inequity, the other doesn’t see it. One tries to explain, the other doesn’t hear it or understand. I guess it’s all about perception and it feels like the perception meter can be so out of whack sometimes there’s so much difficulty in finding the equilibrium. And truly, it just leaves me in a place where I’m just tired. Tired of trying to find the equilibrium, tired of trying to be heard, tired of listening without getting upset . . .just tired of everything. It’s not that I want to just toss my hands up and just be away from everyone and everything, but just tired of feeling like everything is MY misperception. It’s not fun feeling stepped on, not fun feeling like what I say doesn’t make sense, not fun feeling as though anyone can behave completely opposite of his or her own expectation of me and expect that I’ll just stand by and say or feel nothing.

It’s truly one of those times when I wish I could just wrap myself in my mother’s arms and have her hold me close. This is a time when I want nothing more than her guidance to help me muddle through. It’s a time when it couldn’t be more obvious to me that I lack that mother-daughter relationship. And not that it was always perfect, because it wasn’t. But when it really mattered, there were times when my mother could listen with an open-mind and help or guide. Or at least posit questions for me to ponder. At a bare minimum, I just want her here.

And this is what sucks about her being dead (can’t tell you how long it took me to type THAT word). I don’t have access to the mother-adult daughter relationship. There was no chance to develop that dynamic and be able to learn from that next stage. It leaves me feeling more at a loss, leaves me feeling more at sea with being a motherless daughter.