At very random times, like tonight, the floodgates open up. There seems to be no rhyme or reason. I don't know if I am writing this blog for sympathy or therapy. Maybe it's a combination of both. I don't know what sets me off, but usually I can feel it build up. I'm starting to cry again as I type this blog on my laptop. Damn glasses get all fogged up and spotty and then I can't see through it all. I have felt a lot of anxiety lately; makes my stomach clench up. It also makes it hard for me to sleep. I hate that the worst of all, not sleeping. It makes me put off stuff I know that needs doing, like homework. I don't know if it's because I miss my mom. Just typing that makes me cry harder, so maybe. It might be because my daughter is getting married in about a week and she won't be a part of it. She'll miss the whole thing. She'll never get to be a great grandma. I don't know if I want my son to hear me right now and try to comfort me. He's too young, yes at 17, to have that burden. Plus I don't think he knows what to do. Not to mention, I think he did but is overlooking it. I don't blame him. I don't know if I cry cause I feel alone out here in Cali. I can blame that on me though. I am sociable, but don't go out much. I am 45 but don't feel like I am. My body tells me otherwise. It's been 2 years since my Mom died. 2 years seem like a long time, but then again, her death seems like yesterday. I miss her every single day. I look at my Spring flowers and think of her. I planted these a lot because of her. They remind me of her and of home. A home I'll never visit again, except in my memories. I don't dare share that I am still not over my Mom. I'll never be. I sometimes still wallow on grief and self pity. I feel lost. I feel abandoned my Mom. At times I'm angry, at her and at God. I still need my Mom. It wasn't fair that she left us, left me. Who am I supposed to talk to about my kids and am I doing the right thing in the way I have raised them, how I treat them? Who can I talk to about my siblings. I want my Mom. Okay, this crying is because I miss my Mom. when I cry harder thinking about her, it has to be about her. I am writing one long, run on sentence and I don't even care. It's my blog, my style. I can be as random as I choose. I have learned, in my life, in my past marriage, in love, that I can't depend on anyone but me. If I have no expectations, then I'll never be disappointed. I seem to be drawn to men, situations that require no commitment. Yet I also miss a connection, companionship. I don't know what to do anymore. My Mom would set me straight. If I can't share it with her, I shouldn't be doing it. I feel like I am wandering around aimlessly in life. Yes, I go to school. I don't know why anymore. I thought I had a life outside of my kids. I don't. I don't know what I am going to do after my boy moves out in a few years. I know it's a rite of passage, a child leaving the nest. Doesn't mean I have to like it. Most of the time, in most situations, I am on the outside, looking in, always apart from the rest. I miss my Mom. For the last several years, I flew Mom out to see me. It was always the highlight of my year. I liked to, when I flew to Michigan, plan a surprise with one of my siblings for the rest of the family. I loved that. I don't anymore. All my surprise visits to her are my favorite. My fondest memory though, is the year that she was diagnosed, flying out there for Mother's Day, my first one in MI in over 20 years then. Not since I was 18. I had crocheted her a afghan, from her teaching me to crochet and brought it out then. I have it now. That visit we drove around the back roads of MI, cutting wild lilacs. We went into town, where a resident had some dark purple lilacs growing in their yard, but close to the fence. I told her to stop, let me cut some, and get away in her truck, already full of our fav flower. She drove right past because she thought I was kidding; I wasn't. She turned around and I cut some dark purple lilacs. When get got home, I hauled them in and filled so many vases, etc with lilacs. This is a very special memory to me. I have a Mom lilac tattoo on my back, in her memory. I miss and love you Mom. I am so lost without you. I still need you so much. I miss your arms around me, I miss your unconditional love, I miss your smile, your laugh. I miss sitting at your kitchen table in the mornings and reading our books in companionable silence. I miss making our lists of what we needed/wanted to accomplish. Why did you leave me? Until next time, maybe...
Money does. It is the root of all evil. I hate money, or rather the lack there of. I'm tired of struggling every single day. I live modestly. Every single time I think I am doing okay, as in pay all my bills and to be able to buy groceries, WHAM!, something happens to upset my apple cart. It makes me hate my life. It makes me want to give up and walk away from my responsibilities (except my son, I can't give him up). I look at what I can do to cut back. I don't have enough to do that. Days like today really make me wish my Mom was here. I still need her. I keep finding out that I am the only one I can rely on and I kinda suck at that. 
Words have always been easy for me, to read and write. That came from my mom. I love the written word. I love words in general. What else can we use to say what we mean? Or say what we don't mean.
We can be sarcastic as in "bite me" said by me to one of my siblings. Or words can be soft like when I tell my son that I love him. Or tell my nieces that same thing.
Oddly enough, words can be unspoken. "Kindly Unspoken" by Kate Voegele is one of my favorite songs. To quote "Kindly unspoken; You show your emotion; And silence speaks louder than words."
Looks can convey what you want to say. A scowl at your child for acting up; a smile to a handsome man to let him know you are interested. We mustn't forget the sticking out of tongues to convey mild disrespect or in my case, playfulness. This can be used at any age. Though of course, the younger you are, the more trouble you might get into.
Words can allow us to stick our foot in our mouths. Words can be literal or figurative. Words can be made up. New words can always be made, like blog, blogosphere and phish. Words can be strung together to make phrases. Some of my favorite phrases are "this sucks monkey balls" or "meanie head" and of course the "this/that sucks!"
Why is it that lots of people don't know how to use their words? It seems men especially fall into this category. We should all follow the example of when a mother tells her toddler "use your words" Until next time...
When I was younger, in elementary school, I was determined to be a school teacher when I "grew up." Sometime during middle school, it changed to wanting to become a doctor. Sometime in high school it changed to wanting to be a nurse or something else in the medical field.
