When I first decided to blog, I wanted to do like a collection of lessons I'd learned over the years. But then (as you may notice) it became way too structured and cumbersome. So, that leaves me here to just sort of write whats on my mind; which is nothing close to being structured, and often times has no real rhyme or reason to it. But it's me. Pure and raw.
At the risk of sounding redundant, let me say once again, I hate the holidays. If you see me though, you wouldn't know it. I decorate the house, listen to Christmas songs, buy lots of gifts, send holiday wishes to everyone... but inside, it makes me cringe. Only a very select few know that about me... well I suppose whomever reads this knows now as well... but whatever.
The holidays make me think about things too hard. And last night was a rough night to say the least. The baby isn't sleeping well. Teething I believe. On top of the fact that it's cold as shit in our house due to poor ventilation, he's now a little sick, so it's keeping him up. He's been up every hour and my husband and I are very exhausted.
Being woken up (is 'woken' even a word? I'm not going to check, and just roll with it) gives me the chance to remember very vividly my dreams. Last night I was remembering my mothers memorial service, which is tough, because I can recall very little from that day. But last night, I dreamt of it as if I was reliving it. I do remember wanting so badly to go and speak to everyone. To let them know a story to lighten the mood. To try to make people laugh a little because there were so many tears. I wanted to tell people that although she's gone from us, she's no longer in the state of suffering that she'd been in for years. I didn't want people to be sad about her being gone, and I wanted to say something. But I couldn't. I was too upset in my own mind to say a thing. So, in my dream I spoke. And I reminisced.
At her service, my sisters and I wore these huge black hats. My mother loved hats, and we all hated them. In my dream, I told everyone about how she'd always make us wear those ridiculous hats on Easter, and how much we hated them. On my daughters second Easter, my mother said "Where's her hat??? She has to have one to complete her outfit" I told her "I'm not making her wear a hat! We hated them when we were young, and I hate them now! She'll NEVER wear them!" My mom was upset, but made sure she added a ribbon to my baby's hair before going to church. The next year, as we were shopping for an outfit, she said "Mom... Mymommie said to make sure you get me a hat for my dress." I was so livid that she sent her in to say that to me, but if my baby wanted one, she was surely going to get one. She wore a hat every year after that, and I could always see her little snickers on the side. She won that round I suppose.
I also talked about how there were only four people she loved as much as her children. 1) her mother, my grandmother 2) her husband 3) my daughter and 4) my nephew. Her grandchildren were her chance to be the type of mom she wanted without being scrutinized. She snuck them candy, chocolates, toys... allowed them to jump on her bed, cuddle up under her, and make a complete mess of things. They LOVED going to Mymommie's house. And as angry as my sister and I would ever be with her, we'd always drop them off over there. Until right before she passed. I told everyone about how angry I had been with her for her relapse. And how I wouldn't let her see my daughter or my youngest sister unless she committed herself into rehab. Which she did in April. She stayed for a month, and she only left because she wanted to see me graduate. She wasn't ready to leave. She shouldn't have left. She needed to be there longer. She needed more help. And I apologized to everyone for that. For being so hard on her to think that I'd never forgive her for missing my graduation...
So, last night, I laid there just sort of staring out the window as I'd done the night she passed. Looking at the same trees I'd seen before. Looking into the sky, as far off as I could. And I cried. So hard... And for some reason, it helped me to feel better for a little while.
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