I’ve been really sad this week. Depressed too. I found out my great uncle is dying and has been put on hospice care. He has overcome a lot this past year, he had a stroke and then got Covid and developed pneumonia, but he recovered from both better than expected, but now he has some kind of heart/blood issue that they say can’t be fixed because he is simply too weak to survive any kind of surgery to correct the issue. Sadly, they can’t even grant his wish to go back home and pass away there, as he is in a lot of pain and they feel the IV pain relief drugs are necessary for his comfort since he doesn’t respond well to the pill form.
I have always had a special relationship with him. I spent quite a bit of time with him as a kid growing up. When we moved away when I was 12, he faithfully wrote me letters for years, letters that helped me through very rough times in my teenage life. I even chose him to marry my husband and I as he was an ordained minister. He was definitely the best example I had of Christianity in my life, and even though I’m not an evangelical Christian anymore, I still greatly respect the example he set of being kind and loving.
I don’t want him to suffer, and we have been worried about his quality of life ever since the stroke, but it is still hard to say goodbye. And so, I’m sad.
I collect memories,
or perhaps, more accurately,
they collect me.
They've taken over the bed
and the bedroom.
They've wandered down the hall
to congregate in the guest room.
Still too crowded, some migrate
to the couch, the stove, and the fridge.
A few have even taken up swimming
in the bathtub
or driving my old Saturn.
they multiply fast -
and require constant supervision.
featuring a red
Coca Cola truck,
a Tim Horton’s
billboard (cheap coffee!),
at least 50
gray Amazon Prime vans,
another family business
with shutters drawn
and darkened marquee –
all a testament
to the empty promises
of a cold,
You know one awesome aspect of being an adult who collects toys? You can make your childhood dreams come true by buying yourself the toys you wanted most while a kid but never got for one reason or another.
One doll I desperately wanted as a little kid was a Kid Sister doll. For some reason, it just wasn’t meant to be way back then, but I have one now! Just bought this little beauty on Ebay – a rare splurge for myself!
Were there any toys you wanted badly as a kid but never got? If you came across it today would you be tempted to get it for yourself?
Today my sister would have turned 43 if she hadn’t prematurely ended her life around 8 years ago. I still miss her deeply. Part of me is glad she is out of pain, as she struggled horribly with mental illness, physical pain, and serious addiction issues, but most of me just wishes things would have been different. I don’t hold any real anger towards her final action, but there is a lot of sorrow and wondering exactly what was the final straw.
Has suicide ever touched your life personally? Have you lost a friend, family member, or other important person that way? If so, how do you deal with painful occasions like their birthdays/anniversaries/etc.?
Mother’s Day always creates such a barrage of mixed emotions for me. There was a lot of trauma, abuse, mental illness, and foolish decisions that marked my childhood. My mother was far from a perfect parent. Luckily, she does admit to that and seems to be really trying to be a better person now, but being around her always triggers so many memories, thoughts, and feelings – some good, some bad, some funny, and some tragic.
I think part of the issue is that my brain has a tough time seeing how she acts towards me now and reconciling it with memories of how my sister and I were treated while growing up. I do believe in forgiveness (within reason), and I do love my mother, but I doubt there will ever be a day in her company that doesn’t create confusion for me internally.
I write this post today to recognize those of us who struggle on Mother’s Day to even know how to feel…
It is strange how negative words can stay with us for a lifetime and hurt long after they are spoken. Today, I was reminded of a conversation I had way back in middle school. My friends and I were having a conversation about birth order statistics and how the oldest is often the smartest and most responsible in the family – which apparently was the case in all their families.
I mentioned how that hadn’t really happened in my family as I was the youngest and yet I was the one in the gifted program, the one who got straight A’s, and the one who was least likely to break the rules. My sister was very smart in her own ways, but not overly academic or intellectual.
One of my friends (or more likely a frenemy) replied, “Well, maybe your sister is the pretty one then.”
Before I could digest this insult or respond, one of my other friends chimed in assuring the group that my sister was no looker either, which made everyone laugh. I didn’t let on that I felt anything, but inside I was crushed. I felt ugly and I also felt bad that my friends had insulted and made fun of my sister.
To this day, remembering this conversation makes me feel ugly, plain, and rejected. I wish my friends had been more careful with their words.
Today my husband and I went to go see one of his students dance in a special recital:
Seeing all the cute little kids dressed up in their costumes and dancing made me really miss having kids around. I used to be almost constantly surrounded by kids between foster parenting, volunteering with the kids at our old church, and working in the school system as a teacher’s assistant/aide. My favorite age of kids to work with were always the younger ones, 3-4 years old to around 6 or 7, although I bonded well with kids of almost any age.
At this point, I don’t know if my physical/mental health will ever consistently improve to the point that I can do those things again, but I miss them. I am thankful for the experiences and memories though.