Life is good...

At this exact very moment, life is good. I figured since I usually only put the sad stories, I needed to put some happy ones as well, to balance it out. It's nothing specific that makes life good. I seem to be at peace. I don't know the last time I felt this way. I know it won't last, it never does.For now, I am trying to enjoy it.

Things that make life good:

♥ My daughter lives closer to me now...we walk almost every day!

♥ I am flying back to MI to see my family, and hopefully some friends, in about at week.

♥ I'll be in MI for 2 whole weeks!!!

♥ Class is almost done for the semester (I hope to have my final exams done by Monday at the latest)

♥ My little garden is doing well.

♥ I can think about my Mom with mostly happy thoughts (enough said).

♥ My son is almost a senior (okay happy and sad at the same time).

♥ My CTR surgeries are done (time to work on the healing/recovery part now).

♥ I get to take my little niece to the Zoo (Detroit) for the first time with her Mommy.

♥ I love my truck (even if she is a gas whore).

♥ My asthma seems to be better since I'm not working.

♥ I am not so restless when my son isn't home. 

They say that people that worry, are smart. Well, I am super duper smart then. I am trying to learn not to worry so much about the future that I don't enjoy the present. It's a work in progress, but I am trying. Until next time...

     

My tears...

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...

Love does NOT make the world go round...

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.
Between my hours getting cut, no raise in over 5 years, child support being cut back (erroneously I believe - am working on that), sky high gas prices, everything in the sun going up, I just can't win.
Yes, I am whining. Get over it. I am entitled at times. I am going to have to either get a roommate or a part time job. I can't win with either. If I get a roommate, I have no real privacy. If I work a part time job, I won't have the time I like for my son. It will make studying for my classes a lot more difficult as well. Yes, I know there are others that have a lot less than I do, but this is my life. My life is very hard for me right now. I hope my woes are just temporary. Until next time...

Since my Mom died...

Since my Mom died...I have felt very alone

Since my Mom died...I have shed many tears

Since my Mom died...I have gained weight

Since my Mom died...I became a social hermit

Since my Mom died...I have lost my passion for soccer.

Since my Mom died...I got my truck (finally)

Since my Mom died...I grew closer to my sisters

Since my Mom died...I went back to college

Since my Mom died...I learned to be stronger

Since my Mom died...I had to learn how to live again

Oh my word!

Words are wonderful! Words are beautiful. Words are also cruel. Words are mean. Words can wound deeper than any sharp instrument. Words can be naughty. Words can be dirty. I believe Christina Aguilera sings a song called "Dirrty." Words can be loving. Words can be kind. Or even encouraging.

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...

My heart hurts...

Dear Mom:

My heart hurts, still...after over 18 months. I know it will never entirely go away, but I am tired. Tired of the heartache. Tired of crying. Tired of seeing little reminders that make me think of you and make me sad. These reminders make me think of how much I miss you. A blog is an online journal, of sorts, so I thought I would write about it.

Most of the time, there is no rhyme or reason why I hurt, why I cry. Like now, I started crying for no obvious reason and then my heartache became a physical pain. I never understood what keening truly was until after you died.

I'm like a little kid, I want my Mom to make it go away. It's hard to type through my tears. I want my Mom. I want my Mom. I WANT MY MOM!!! I know that this will never be again, but my heart wants what it wants. It doesn't listen to my brain.

You were way too young to die when you did. I still don't understand why you died. I'll probably never understand. We all still need you!

Mom, I miss you sooooo much. I think about you every single day. I don't have anyone that will hold me while I cry and tell me everything will be okay. So I cry alone. I hate this. I am so unhappy right now. I know I am selfish, appearing to ask for others sympathy, when I know most everyone has had someone they loved more than life itself die.

Some times I think that if I moved back to MI, around my sibs, that it would be easier. I am not so sure it would be.

This pain is all mine. It at least lets me know that I am still alive. I have a hard time sharing it, letting go of it. I don't trust anyone with my heart anymore. It's been broken beyond what it can take. You always made me feel better. You were the one I poured my heart out to. I have no one else I trust that task to. Only you. Some gets bits and pieces, but never all of it.

What am I supposed to do Mom? I've tried acting normal. I've tried keeping busy. I've tried medications. Nothing really works; it always comes back to me. I do believe in God and in prayer. I pray for Him to take away this pain or to help me deal with it. All I want is you and this is exactly what I can't have. Make it stop, please make it go away. I know I will never be the person I was before your death, but I know I can't be this person I am now forever. I am more than this but don't know how to find my way anymore. Please come love me Mom, even if only in my dreams...

xoxo,

Nay

Hopes and dreams...

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.

After graduating high school, getting married and moving to California, all of which happened in the span of 3 short months, I started community college. My goal was to become a nurse. The community college I was attending didn't have a nursing program so I majored in human biology as it had very similar course work. The very last semester before graduating (it took me 4 years, but I did it, and with honors, while working full time), I gave birth to my first child, my daughter Shawna. She was quite ill her first year of life, but thankfully outgrew the medical issues she had.

Although it was my hope to go back and finish up my dream of becoming a nurse, the reality of raising a child filled my life. Later, 6 years later, my son was born. 17 months after that, I became a single parent by way of divorce; one of the worst, and also the best, events of my life. Being a single Mom with two children took up much of my time and my resources. I had no thoughts but for my children and raising them.

The intent here is not to complain. Please keep reading, there is a point to this story.

Now, as my son is 16, I return to community college, yet again. I am finding out that my dream then of becoming a nurse is not my dream now. I worried that that made me less of who I am. It doesn't. I have realized that as it was when I was younger, hopes and dreams can change as you grow older and grow up. (Though if anyone tattles and says I am a grown up and growing up, I'll deny it.) I have not figured out what my dream is yet, what I want to be when I "grow up." That, and me, is still a work in progress. In the meantime, I think I'll work on getting an accounting degree.

Once I worried that my Mother would be disappointed in me, with this decision I have made. She wouldn't be. She would be happy for me no matter what I decide.

The point of the story is that it is okay for your hopes and your dreams to change. Life is all about change and adapting to these changes. How you adapt/react to these changes help define you as a person. Life's lessons so to speak. Until next time...