Anxiety. Defined in the Websters dictionary as : an abnormal and overwhelming sense of apprehension
and fear often marked by physiological signs (as sweating, tension, and
increased pulse), by doubt concerning the reality and nature of the
threat, and by self-doubt about one's capacity to cope with it......
Yeah I'd say that about sums it up...although my personal definition of it...... A GIANT PAIN IN THE BUTT.
I think everyone gets anxiety over some things. The major difference is whether it takes over and controls you and your thoughts. Saying you suffer from anxiety is so open ended. Do you get nervous about speaking in front of large crowds? Are you worried about what people will think? Do you worry that you will run into confrontation? That is one end...or the extreme end....Are you afraid to leave your house? Do you push people away because they don't understand?
I'm most definitly on the OTHER END of the spectrum. Before my mom died, I suffered from anxiety...but it was "manageable anxiety". Small stuff that I found ways to work through. I still had bad days, but nothing like I do now. Since she died I've gotten pretty extreme with it. I will hide in the house for days at a time...doors closed, curtains drawn. I am even petrified to take the dogs out in the backyard some days. Why? Every reason I think of always sounds like an excuse. I think the real reason is I'm weak.
In the span of 2 years I lost 3 family members who I loved dearly, and was close with. My grandma, then my mom and aunt.....they passed within 6 months of each other. People often praise me for being so strong and getting through it. I'm a fighter like my mom. She would worry about everyone else then worry about herself. If there was something to do, then she did it. Anything to distract her mind from what was really happening. That is what I did....I did what I was supposed to do...packed up her apartment, leaned on friends...went back to work. That all caught up with me though.
When my grandma died, I saw my mom broken. I had never seen her like that. I didn't know what to do or how to help her. She never recovered from that. Looking back I get it. She lost her last living parent. She didn't have much close family left. When that realization hits you, you can't help but have to sit down and be dumbfounded.
I'm anxious because i'm alone. I'm anxious because i'm afraid if I leave my house then i'm moving on with my life. leaving the past behind me. I'm not ready for that. I'm not ready to leave my mom behind me. Learning to live like this is horrible. And I can say without a doubt I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.
For the rest of my life I will know when it's 7:00pm, and pick up the phone to call my mom. After watching The Bachelor I will wait for my grandma to call me so we can talk about how all the girls are "floozys". And every Saturday morning I will remember how my mom and I did errands together. Yes these are wonderful memories and I will hold them close to me forever....but what do you do when you would give anything in the whole world for one more minute with them. One more hug. One more I love you.
I feel like I'm rambled my way through this, but this is stuff that been on my mind lately.
I'll end this long possibly misunderstood post by saying 2 things.
1. Everyone who is reading this...please love those people around you...forgive....get over your pride and call your mom or dad. Thank god they are with you and you have a chance to embrace them and your relationship.
2. Anxiety really sucks. Don't tell someone you know and love that suffers from it to "get over it". It wont help. Support them, love them, and understand them. Pushing is ok...but in small doses! Be a friend and let them know you are there no matter what.
Because above everything....remember that you have today....and you need to embrace it. Because tomorrow just might not be......
JM
Thursday 13 August 2015
Wednesday 15 July 2015
....my husband...my world.....
A huge part of my grieving process has involved not just my family and friends, but also my husband, Dan. We got married June 2009, just celebrated 6 years together!
Our wedding day was perfect. I remember everything about it...it was my second wedding...second marriage...and at first I was ashamed of that, but thanks to my mom I took my first wedding, marriage, husband and I learned from it. I learned so much about myself and what I really wanted out of my life. Our wedding day I vowed to myself to remember every moment, to cherish every second with our family. 6 years later I can still remember waiting with my brother to walk down the aisle. With a deep breath and alittle tug from him, we started. I made eye contact with Dan and it was like we were the only two people in the room. The smile on his face, the look in his eyes, was all I needed.
Now obviously when you get married you don't think of all the bad things you are going to go through in a lifetime together. Especially saying those vows, you don't expect to have to live through hell. Your just thinking of the fun times...vacations, weekends, special times together....kids....
Don't get me wrong, our 6 years of marriage hasn't been hell. We have had a lifetime of ups and downs, and have gotten through things that I would have never imagined. We've taken every vow we said that day and lived through it. But after coming out of the otherside of everything we are better people individually and together because of everything.
Kids...oh I love that question. 6 years married and we still get that same question...where are the kids? when are you going to start? your not getting any younger! There's still some time! Yup we get it all the time. It used to hurt, and sometimes still does. Let me catch you up...
When we started our relationship we agreed we both wanted kids. 2 or 3. We wanted to be parents, we wanted to make our parents grandparents. We wanted to experience every part of having children that most couples go through. Well what we got is not what we expected. We have been through 11 miscarriages. Only a couple people close to us actually know about this. We kept very very private about it. Not even our parents knew. The last time was a vasectomy that didn't work. We got that fixed immediately! But the time before was the biggest. It was the one and only that I told my mom. We found out we were pregnant a week before my grandma died. Didn't tell a soul. I decided this was it and I would tell my mom. She had mixed emotions. See I was sick and on alot of medication, and financially it was a horrible time for us. A few days before we left to be with my grandma I had a miscarriage...the worst by far. I had was is referred to as a "tubal" pregnancy or an Ectopic Pregnancy. I was poked and proded and was very fortunate that it was early and they could give me medication to "clear the problem". I love the terms they use. It was the most painful....physically and emotionally yet.
It was finally discovered or "disagnosed" that I have PCOS. Polycystic Ovary Syndrome.
With my moms help and support we made the decision that children were not in our future and Dan had no problems, or second thoughts getting a vasectomy. He didn't want to see me in that pain anymore. Now sure we can adopt. But realistically I don't see that happening. So we have decided to enjoy our life as a couple. And we get to have our neice and nephew for sleepovers which gives us a kid fix!
Fast Forward a year and we are in the car driving....I have no idea what started the conversation but we were talking about when my mom dies how I will be a complete mess. She died that night.
That morning, as every morning when I didn't get to my mom, Dan would always say the same thing...she's fine don't worry. But my gut knew better. And when we pulled into the driveway and her window was still open I knew. I think he knew on some level as well, but didn't want to admit it.
That morning is a whirlwind, and I still think of it everyday, and that is ok. Sometimes I even remember things I couldn't remember before. The 9-1-1 call for example. When she didn't respond to me I called 911 right away. I told the operator where I was and that I needed them to hurry. She started asking me questions and i kept trying to wake my mom up. It wasn't working....she was ice cold. I shut the window....the operator told me to roll her over and started telling me how to do CPR. She wasn't listening to me. I know CPR. That wasn't the problem. The problem was my mom was laying there ice cold and so stiff I couldn't roll her over. Dan came in at this point and I gave him the phone. I went into the living room and started screaming and sobbing. He rolled her over finally and we knew right away. No doubt. He held me until I pushed him away. She was going to be fine. The paramedics would fix her and it would be fine. Denial.
Dan was amazing that day. He made phone calls to people I wouldn't have even thought about. Changed our day and responsibilities....I ran a daycare...I had kids coming....we were supposed to doggy sit for his cousin...He thought of it all. He held my hand at the funeral home. He drove me around and stepped in when something was just too much. I had an opportunity to see her the next day. Just me. So I took it. Dan came with me and held my hand and told me nothing was stupid and everything that we said and did was ours with her. He slept on the floor next to the couch in her apartment for 3 weeks holding my hand, and staying up with me all night while I cried and tried to deal with it.
To say he is my rock is an understatement. Dan is my guardian angel. He is my best friend. I don't know where I would be without him. He loves my mom as if she were is own. and I know she approved of him. He is still there for me when I need him, and I know he will be for the rest of our lives.
Dan,
Thank you for being on this jouney with me. Thank you for being who you are. I love you more than anything, and you are my everything. Your my yogi bear, and i'll forever be your boo boo.
-Jenn
JM
Our wedding day was perfect. I remember everything about it...it was my second wedding...second marriage...and at first I was ashamed of that, but thanks to my mom I took my first wedding, marriage, husband and I learned from it. I learned so much about myself and what I really wanted out of my life. Our wedding day I vowed to myself to remember every moment, to cherish every second with our family. 6 years later I can still remember waiting with my brother to walk down the aisle. With a deep breath and alittle tug from him, we started. I made eye contact with Dan and it was like we were the only two people in the room. The smile on his face, the look in his eyes, was all I needed.
Now obviously when you get married you don't think of all the bad things you are going to go through in a lifetime together. Especially saying those vows, you don't expect to have to live through hell. Your just thinking of the fun times...vacations, weekends, special times together....kids....
Don't get me wrong, our 6 years of marriage hasn't been hell. We have had a lifetime of ups and downs, and have gotten through things that I would have never imagined. We've taken every vow we said that day and lived through it. But after coming out of the otherside of everything we are better people individually and together because of everything.
Kids...oh I love that question. 6 years married and we still get that same question...where are the kids? when are you going to start? your not getting any younger! There's still some time! Yup we get it all the time. It used to hurt, and sometimes still does. Let me catch you up...
When we started our relationship we agreed we both wanted kids. 2 or 3. We wanted to be parents, we wanted to make our parents grandparents. We wanted to experience every part of having children that most couples go through. Well what we got is not what we expected. We have been through 11 miscarriages. Only a couple people close to us actually know about this. We kept very very private about it. Not even our parents knew. The last time was a vasectomy that didn't work. We got that fixed immediately! But the time before was the biggest. It was the one and only that I told my mom. We found out we were pregnant a week before my grandma died. Didn't tell a soul. I decided this was it and I would tell my mom. She had mixed emotions. See I was sick and on alot of medication, and financially it was a horrible time for us. A few days before we left to be with my grandma I had a miscarriage...the worst by far. I had was is referred to as a "tubal" pregnancy or an Ectopic Pregnancy. I was poked and proded and was very fortunate that it was early and they could give me medication to "clear the problem". I love the terms they use. It was the most painful....physically and emotionally yet.
It was finally discovered or "disagnosed" that I have PCOS. Polycystic Ovary Syndrome.
With my moms help and support we made the decision that children were not in our future and Dan had no problems, or second thoughts getting a vasectomy. He didn't want to see me in that pain anymore. Now sure we can adopt. But realistically I don't see that happening. So we have decided to enjoy our life as a couple. And we get to have our neice and nephew for sleepovers which gives us a kid fix!
Fast Forward a year and we are in the car driving....I have no idea what started the conversation but we were talking about when my mom dies how I will be a complete mess. She died that night.
That morning, as every morning when I didn't get to my mom, Dan would always say the same thing...she's fine don't worry. But my gut knew better. And when we pulled into the driveway and her window was still open I knew. I think he knew on some level as well, but didn't want to admit it.
That morning is a whirlwind, and I still think of it everyday, and that is ok. Sometimes I even remember things I couldn't remember before. The 9-1-1 call for example. When she didn't respond to me I called 911 right away. I told the operator where I was and that I needed them to hurry. She started asking me questions and i kept trying to wake my mom up. It wasn't working....she was ice cold. I shut the window....the operator told me to roll her over and started telling me how to do CPR. She wasn't listening to me. I know CPR. That wasn't the problem. The problem was my mom was laying there ice cold and so stiff I couldn't roll her over. Dan came in at this point and I gave him the phone. I went into the living room and started screaming and sobbing. He rolled her over finally and we knew right away. No doubt. He held me until I pushed him away. She was going to be fine. The paramedics would fix her and it would be fine. Denial.
Dan was amazing that day. He made phone calls to people I wouldn't have even thought about. Changed our day and responsibilities....I ran a daycare...I had kids coming....we were supposed to doggy sit for his cousin...He thought of it all. He held my hand at the funeral home. He drove me around and stepped in when something was just too much. I had an opportunity to see her the next day. Just me. So I took it. Dan came with me and held my hand and told me nothing was stupid and everything that we said and did was ours with her. He slept on the floor next to the couch in her apartment for 3 weeks holding my hand, and staying up with me all night while I cried and tried to deal with it.
To say he is my rock is an understatement. Dan is my guardian angel. He is my best friend. I don't know where I would be without him. He loves my mom as if she were is own. and I know she approved of him. He is still there for me when I need him, and I know he will be for the rest of our lives.
Dan,
Thank you for being on this jouney with me. Thank you for being who you are. I love you more than anything, and you are my everything. Your my yogi bear, and i'll forever be your boo boo.
-Jenn
JM
Sunday 12 July 2015
.....my friends and family.....
I think i've mentioned before that I see a councillor every couple weeks, to help sort out my thoughts and feelings and work on healthy ways to "control" them and handle them.
He asked me something interesting this last visit. Who was my first call? That morning after I found my mom....who did I call? Well I went with the obvious answer...911. Of course that is not what he meant and I knew that, when I really thought of it I knew who it was. When I told him, he didn't seem surprised. My first thoughts after the initial omg why is this happening, was oh god Josh and Aynslei.
See my first call was to my good friend Ashley. As bad as I knew the situation was, and even though I knew my life had changed forever, the one thing I had to do was talk to my friend. She was always my voice of reason. She has 2 beautiful children, Josh and Aynslei, who mean the world to me...but who also meant the world to my mom. They called her Nana Brenda, and although Aynslei was too little to understand, I knew Josh would understand better, and I was dreading that.
If I remember correctly, the phone call was quick, to the point. I had police and firemen, and EMTs swirling around me. It was a crazy time. But I remember talking to Ashley and having a wave of calm come over me....like no matter what I knew I had my friends to lean on.
What I didn't realize was how much I would in fact come to lean on her in the weeks and months to come.
She helped me plan the memorial, find the location, buy all the stuff I needed to buy. She was on top of papers I need to fill out and quick to remind me of things I still had to do. I would have been lost without her and probably still crying every night and to be honest.....probably not even here anymore.
Ashley stepped up when she didn't have to. She stood next to me and behind me to give me a swift kick in the butt when I needed it (she's still realllllly good at this!) The last year and a half has been full of alot of ups and downs, but she has been there through it all.
Recently her son Josh, was asking me questions, and said if I didn't have Uncle Dan then I would live alone...I agreed yes...thinking this was not going to end well....but then he said, "well you wouldn't be alone, because you would have me and Aynslei, and Mommy and Daddy and we are family too!" That was by far one of the sweetest things that little boy has ever said to me. But he is right. They are not just friends. They are family.
Thank you truly doesn't seem like enough. I feel I can never repay her for what she has done for me. I love her to death, and she really is like a sister to me...a little pesky sister! Her and her husband have been a life line for us, and the kids mean everything to Dan and I.
This in no way diminshes the things that everyone has done for me. Her co-workers and friends were incredible. Helped me with little details like food for the memorial.
My brother dropped everything and came here to help me and support me. He was my voice of reason, he helped me to see that even though I lost the most important person in my life, I still had alot of family and friends left. His wife, my sister-in-law, has been an incredible life line for me. They live far away, but I know that I can message her or even call her anytime and even though she is very busy she will always respond, and help bring me back to reality. She reminds me of the things I need to remember and hold on to during those tough times.
My sisters, who at the time I didn't talk much with, came to support me. In fact one thing I remember, is at my moms memorial service. We sat down for it to begin and I sat with Dan, but noone sat next to me. I was confused. I sat there thinking this is it...this is what it's going to be like...Dan and I...then something happened. My oldest sister came in with her daughter. She sat right next to me and took my hand. She probably doesn't even remember this, or realize what an impact that had on me. It meant the world to me.
And well Dan.....I think that will have to wait until my next blog post!
JM
He asked me something interesting this last visit. Who was my first call? That morning after I found my mom....who did I call? Well I went with the obvious answer...911. Of course that is not what he meant and I knew that, when I really thought of it I knew who it was. When I told him, he didn't seem surprised. My first thoughts after the initial omg why is this happening, was oh god Josh and Aynslei.
See my first call was to my good friend Ashley. As bad as I knew the situation was, and even though I knew my life had changed forever, the one thing I had to do was talk to my friend. She was always my voice of reason. She has 2 beautiful children, Josh and Aynslei, who mean the world to me...but who also meant the world to my mom. They called her Nana Brenda, and although Aynslei was too little to understand, I knew Josh would understand better, and I was dreading that.
If I remember correctly, the phone call was quick, to the point. I had police and firemen, and EMTs swirling around me. It was a crazy time. But I remember talking to Ashley and having a wave of calm come over me....like no matter what I knew I had my friends to lean on.
What I didn't realize was how much I would in fact come to lean on her in the weeks and months to come.
She helped me plan the memorial, find the location, buy all the stuff I needed to buy. She was on top of papers I need to fill out and quick to remind me of things I still had to do. I would have been lost without her and probably still crying every night and to be honest.....probably not even here anymore.
Ashley stepped up when she didn't have to. She stood next to me and behind me to give me a swift kick in the butt when I needed it (she's still realllllly good at this!) The last year and a half has been full of alot of ups and downs, but she has been there through it all.
Recently her son Josh, was asking me questions, and said if I didn't have Uncle Dan then I would live alone...I agreed yes...thinking this was not going to end well....but then he said, "well you wouldn't be alone, because you would have me and Aynslei, and Mommy and Daddy and we are family too!" That was by far one of the sweetest things that little boy has ever said to me. But he is right. They are not just friends. They are family.
Thank you truly doesn't seem like enough. I feel I can never repay her for what she has done for me. I love her to death, and she really is like a sister to me...a little pesky sister! Her and her husband have been a life line for us, and the kids mean everything to Dan and I.
This in no way diminshes the things that everyone has done for me. Her co-workers and friends were incredible. Helped me with little details like food for the memorial.
My brother dropped everything and came here to help me and support me. He was my voice of reason, he helped me to see that even though I lost the most important person in my life, I still had alot of family and friends left. His wife, my sister-in-law, has been an incredible life line for me. They live far away, but I know that I can message her or even call her anytime and even though she is very busy she will always respond, and help bring me back to reality. She reminds me of the things I need to remember and hold on to during those tough times.
My sisters, who at the time I didn't talk much with, came to support me. In fact one thing I remember, is at my moms memorial service. We sat down for it to begin and I sat with Dan, but noone sat next to me. I was confused. I sat there thinking this is it...this is what it's going to be like...Dan and I...then something happened. My oldest sister came in with her daughter. She sat right next to me and took my hand. She probably doesn't even remember this, or realize what an impact that had on me. It meant the world to me.
And well Dan.....I think that will have to wait until my next blog post!
JM
Sunday 5 July 2015
....i've had a breakthrough...well 2 really!.....
Part of my anxiety is that I tend to do anything and everything to avoid situations, people, and definitly confrontation. Well this past week I have had not only 1 but 2 breakthroughs.
First I was able to call our landlord and find out some information. Easy right? Yeah it is....for most people it is quite simple. But for someone with extreme anxiety it's a nightmare. But I did it...it was not a pleasant call and I knew it wouldn't be, but I did it...and the best part is I did it without thinking about it. I didn't have to plan the conversation, and possible answers or questions. I just did it. I was spontaneous and I did it.
Second breakthough is quite abit more exciting. We are going to be moving, so we went to the store to get moving boxes. Well going to the store with Dan has...90% of the time....been fairly simple. As long as Dan is with me i'm ok. He left me alone. And had be checkout with some of the things we had wanted....by myself! Again something that some people do weekly or even daily...and really don't think twice about doing it. For me that was a huge accomplishment.
For the first time in over a year I can say I'm proud of myself. I'm proud that I was able to do these things. And while I still have anxiety and always will on some level, I know now that it is getting better. That I am conquering these fears and stepping on them one at a time.
Now for the bigger question....can I do them again? I'm sure I could and i'm sure I will someday.
Don't misunderstand.....the anxiety is still there. And it's huge. it's like a giant monster that is attatched to me. But this is progress...these things made me feel good about myself again. I'm getting back to my old self, and I have to admit....i've really missed her!
JM
First I was able to call our landlord and find out some information. Easy right? Yeah it is....for most people it is quite simple. But for someone with extreme anxiety it's a nightmare. But I did it...it was not a pleasant call and I knew it wouldn't be, but I did it...and the best part is I did it without thinking about it. I didn't have to plan the conversation, and possible answers or questions. I just did it. I was spontaneous and I did it.
Second breakthough is quite abit more exciting. We are going to be moving, so we went to the store to get moving boxes. Well going to the store with Dan has...90% of the time....been fairly simple. As long as Dan is with me i'm ok. He left me alone. And had be checkout with some of the things we had wanted....by myself! Again something that some people do weekly or even daily...and really don't think twice about doing it. For me that was a huge accomplishment.
For the first time in over a year I can say I'm proud of myself. I'm proud that I was able to do these things. And while I still have anxiety and always will on some level, I know now that it is getting better. That I am conquering these fears and stepping on them one at a time.
Now for the bigger question....can I do them again? I'm sure I could and i'm sure I will someday.
Don't misunderstand.....the anxiety is still there. And it's huge. it's like a giant monster that is attatched to me. But this is progress...these things made me feel good about myself again. I'm getting back to my old self, and I have to admit....i've really missed her!
JM
Thursday 2 July 2015
......it's been awhile.....
I'm honestly not sure if anyone reads this or not.....I hope so! I hope I can either shed light on what i've been going through for my family and friends, and maybe even help someone else who is confused out there.
I haven't written a post in awhile. No honest to god great reason for it. After the one year went by for my mom I went downhill. Struggling is an understatement. I pushed everyone away and hid in my "nest". I even stopped seeing my dr and my Councillor. My anxiety took over my life and I let it. I stopped going to my group meetings every week and when at all possible stayed inside. Only leaving when I was with my husband Dan.
This is NOT healthy. I'm back on my medication, I'm seeing my dr and my councillor regularly, so I'm getting back to my old self. Do I still miss my mom....every single day. But I can say that now I can go an hour at a time and not think of her and miss her so much my heart hurts.
Tonight something interesting happened. I was at my good friends house, and we were watching the kids play outside. Her neighbour came over to visit. She is my mom's age, and we all sat there and chatted. I remember thinking to myself that this woman sounds extremely interesting. And when she went to leave, it occurred to me how much she reminded me of my mom. Nothing in particular. Nothing I can say exactly....the way she talked, her coffee, how when she talked of her grandchild her eyes lit up. Nothing like that. I think it was just her presence.
I'm watching everyone's lives move on around me and sometimes it hurts, and sometimes i'm jealous. This is the first time in my life where I have no one to worry about except myself. I just realized this and it's quite a revelation. Dan and I are going to be embarking on alot of new changes over the next few years, and I'm very excited for it.
For the first time in a year and a half i'm excited for the future....excited to live my life with 2 guardian angels on my shoulders, whispering in my ear. I will still have my bad days....but I'm looking forward to the good ones.
JM
I haven't written a post in awhile. No honest to god great reason for it. After the one year went by for my mom I went downhill. Struggling is an understatement. I pushed everyone away and hid in my "nest". I even stopped seeing my dr and my Councillor. My anxiety took over my life and I let it. I stopped going to my group meetings every week and when at all possible stayed inside. Only leaving when I was with my husband Dan.
This is NOT healthy. I'm back on my medication, I'm seeing my dr and my councillor regularly, so I'm getting back to my old self. Do I still miss my mom....every single day. But I can say that now I can go an hour at a time and not think of her and miss her so much my heart hurts.
Tonight something interesting happened. I was at my good friends house, and we were watching the kids play outside. Her neighbour came over to visit. She is my mom's age, and we all sat there and chatted. I remember thinking to myself that this woman sounds extremely interesting. And when she went to leave, it occurred to me how much she reminded me of my mom. Nothing in particular. Nothing I can say exactly....the way she talked, her coffee, how when she talked of her grandchild her eyes lit up. Nothing like that. I think it was just her presence.
I'm watching everyone's lives move on around me and sometimes it hurts, and sometimes i'm jealous. This is the first time in my life where I have no one to worry about except myself. I just realized this and it's quite a revelation. Dan and I are going to be embarking on alot of new changes over the next few years, and I'm very excited for it.
For the first time in a year and a half i'm excited for the future....excited to live my life with 2 guardian angels on my shoulders, whispering in my ear. I will still have my bad days....but I'm looking forward to the good ones.
JM
Tuesday 17 February 2015
....it's like learning to walk all over again....
I recently heard an interview with Melissa Rivers....and she said something that i've said numerous times. "I have to learn how to live without my mother...and it's not easy". I've been saying this alot in the last year, and when I do is met with the typical..."it's ok", "you'll be fine", "you'll get through it".
Hearing someone else say it...was almost a validation...not a told you so...but personally for me, it was almost like saying "ok i'm not crazy".
For 32 years I had my mom. If I was sad I'd call her. Mad, Angry, Lonely, Confused. Literally any feeling in the world I had, I would call my mom. Sometimes she would drive me nuts with her response (usually "i told you so"). I still go to pick up the phone to call her.
It's hard to wake up one day and have a new life. New expectations, new people new hopes and dreams. The moment I knew my mom was gone, I was alone with her. The room was spinning and I honestly didn't know what I was supposed to do. I was looking at her lifeless in bed, and I wanted to just go back in time and do something...anything...different. But alas, life isn't a tv show or movie, and that isn't possible. The only thing you can do is mourn, and try and move on. But how do you do that when you feel alone. Orphaned.
I'm an orphan. I had to figure out what I was supposed to do now. I think I did an ok job. I surrounded myself with people I knew would support me and be there. Who could share memories and laugh and cry with me. Sure there were some bad apples in the bag....but that goes with any situation.
So the question is still there..."How do I learn to live without my mom?"
You just do. She taught me to be a fighter. She taught me that life is not easy. It's the hardest thing you will ever do. But it's worth it. So I fight. I fight scary feelings, I fight the urge to drive to her apartment. I fight until I have no fight left. Which trust me, happens. Those days are rough, but have come less and less in the last year.
People who loose limbs often suffer from "Phantom Limb Syndrome". I was reading about this the other day...why I don't know...but it got me really thinking. I often have moments where life seems like it was 13 months ago. I forget that my mom is gone. I forget that she went to sleep one night and never woke up again. I forget that she left me. It never last long...the forget...and they are awesome moments...that is until they aren't. Once you are brought back to reality it's like loosing her all over again.
I look at her picture every day. I've even started talking to her more. I miss her more than ever...but she is with me. She is beside me. Walking with me, still teaching me to be strong and fight.
Hearing someone else say it...was almost a validation...not a told you so...but personally for me, it was almost like saying "ok i'm not crazy".
For 32 years I had my mom. If I was sad I'd call her. Mad, Angry, Lonely, Confused. Literally any feeling in the world I had, I would call my mom. Sometimes she would drive me nuts with her response (usually "i told you so"). I still go to pick up the phone to call her.
It's hard to wake up one day and have a new life. New expectations, new people new hopes and dreams. The moment I knew my mom was gone, I was alone with her. The room was spinning and I honestly didn't know what I was supposed to do. I was looking at her lifeless in bed, and I wanted to just go back in time and do something...anything...different. But alas, life isn't a tv show or movie, and that isn't possible. The only thing you can do is mourn, and try and move on. But how do you do that when you feel alone. Orphaned.
I'm an orphan. I had to figure out what I was supposed to do now. I think I did an ok job. I surrounded myself with people I knew would support me and be there. Who could share memories and laugh and cry with me. Sure there were some bad apples in the bag....but that goes with any situation.
So the question is still there..."How do I learn to live without my mom?"
You just do. She taught me to be a fighter. She taught me that life is not easy. It's the hardest thing you will ever do. But it's worth it. So I fight. I fight scary feelings, I fight the urge to drive to her apartment. I fight until I have no fight left. Which trust me, happens. Those days are rough, but have come less and less in the last year.
People who loose limbs often suffer from "Phantom Limb Syndrome". I was reading about this the other day...why I don't know...but it got me really thinking. I often have moments where life seems like it was 13 months ago. I forget that my mom is gone. I forget that she went to sleep one night and never woke up again. I forget that she left me. It never last long...the forget...and they are awesome moments...that is until they aren't. Once you are brought back to reality it's like loosing her all over again.
I look at her picture every day. I've even started talking to her more. I miss her more than ever...but she is with me. She is beside me. Walking with me, still teaching me to be strong and fight.
Tuesday 10 February 2015
...How are you....
The age old question....How are you?
I'm sure you hear it a hundred times a day from strangers...cashier at the store, an old friend you haven't seen in awhile, spouse, parents. It can go from a reflex question to a genuine question.
I've often thought of telling the truth. How many times have you been asked that you just answered by reflex...."i'm...good/ok/great". Well in the last year this question has been asked to me probably an average of a million times.
Don't get me wrong, it's a part of life. It is a "courtesy" in a way. Have you ever wondered what would happen if you told the truth about how you are feeling in that moment? I have. In fact upon reflecting on this I realized that there is only one person in my life that I can be 100% honest about when asked that question. My husband.
One year ago the answer for me was, alone, angry, lost, confused, pissed off, and sad. I went through those thoughts of why am I still here. How am I supposed to go through this alone. Why are all these people looking at me. Find me a hiding place. Dan, my husband, has been a life line for me. He found me that hiding place, that place noone could stare at me, look at me with pity, that place was in his arms. I know it's cheesy, but it's the only time I can be real and honest. Because answering "How are you" by saying, miserable, confused, suicidal, it's not something alot of people want to hear.
I finally came up with a response that works. I don't know. Straight and to the point. I don't know how I am. It's the truth. I'm so many things sometimes I don't know how I am. I don't know how I'm feeling.
Now don't misunderstand me. I have alot of people in my life that I love and would be lost without. And they all ask how I am...and I'm sooooo grateful for each and everyone of them. But know this. If you ask someone who is grieving how they are, be prepared for the response. It will probably be an "ok", but know that that OK is two letters that are loaded with feelings and emotions.
Don't let "how are you" be a reflex. Make it be sincere and honest.
JM
I'm sure you hear it a hundred times a day from strangers...cashier at the store, an old friend you haven't seen in awhile, spouse, parents. It can go from a reflex question to a genuine question.
I've often thought of telling the truth. How many times have you been asked that you just answered by reflex...."i'm...good/ok/great". Well in the last year this question has been asked to me probably an average of a million times.
Don't get me wrong, it's a part of life. It is a "courtesy" in a way. Have you ever wondered what would happen if you told the truth about how you are feeling in that moment? I have. In fact upon reflecting on this I realized that there is only one person in my life that I can be 100% honest about when asked that question. My husband.
One year ago the answer for me was, alone, angry, lost, confused, pissed off, and sad. I went through those thoughts of why am I still here. How am I supposed to go through this alone. Why are all these people looking at me. Find me a hiding place. Dan, my husband, has been a life line for me. He found me that hiding place, that place noone could stare at me, look at me with pity, that place was in his arms. I know it's cheesy, but it's the only time I can be real and honest. Because answering "How are you" by saying, miserable, confused, suicidal, it's not something alot of people want to hear.
I finally came up with a response that works. I don't know. Straight and to the point. I don't know how I am. It's the truth. I'm so many things sometimes I don't know how I am. I don't know how I'm feeling.
Now don't misunderstand me. I have alot of people in my life that I love and would be lost without. And they all ask how I am...and I'm sooooo grateful for each and everyone of them. But know this. If you ask someone who is grieving how they are, be prepared for the response. It will probably be an "ok", but know that that OK is two letters that are loaded with feelings and emotions.
Don't let "how are you" be a reflex. Make it be sincere and honest.
JM
Thursday 5 February 2015
....loosing a grandparent...
I had a fairly "normal" family growing up....well in the sense that I had 2 grandmas and 2 grandpas. By the time I was 15 however, that had dwindled down to 1. My Grandma Smith (my moms mom) was the only grandparent I had from 15 years old on. She was there when my dad died, helping my mom and I, she watched me go to my prom, and graduate high school. She watched as I got married and divorced....and get married again. She supported me and watched me grow into a woman, make mistakes and grow from them.
As I grew older I grew closer to my grandma. She was awesome. Always joking around and she had the best laugh. We would watch the Bachelor every monday night and even though she lived 60 minutes away, she would call me when it was done and we would talk about the show. We would talk for hours laughing and joking. She would call the girls "hussies" and I would laugh.
I remember the stories she would tell of my mom and my uncle when they were growing up. When we went to visit her we would always go for a drive and go past all her old "stomping grounds" and she would tell us all her memories.
Christmas time was always a special time for us. She would come down and celebrate with us..staying for a few days. It was always a blast. We would have rye and cokes and play cards for hours and hours. It was the best times and I truly cherish those memories. She loved playing cards. And crafts..well she crochet'd all the time....tried to teach me how to knit...but that just turned into a comedy skit!
Her baking was what inspired me to learn. She would make the most amazing apple pies. And shortbread cookies...well don't' even get me started! To this day I still can't make them just as she did. I remember when she tried to teach me how to "crimp" the edge of a pie....it didn't end well!
My grandma was full of life and love. She taught me what love should look like, and it's because of her I was able to fall in love with Dan and be as happy as I am now with him.
In April 2012 we got a call from my Aunt Sandy that grandma was taken to the hospital. My mom and I rushed down to be there for her. We sat by her bedside and held her hand and prayed that she would pull through. On April 13 she went in for surgery, she came out but we were told it wasn't good. Her body was tired it was done. They took her to a room where we could surround her and be with her. I remember the dr wanted to meet with the family so my mom and aunt and uncle all left to talk with him, and left me there. I held her hand and talked to her. Told her I loved her and that grandpa was waiting for her. I did my best to not cry. She looked at me and squeezed my hand.
Everyone came back and shortly after grandma left us. My mom was broken, and I didn't know how to help her. A few days later we had her service and we said goodbye. Life went on as usual.
I struggled to grieve for her. I missed her so much. My mom was worse of course. I tried to be there for her but it wasn't until I lost her that I understood what she was going through.
My grief for my mom has since "over shadowed" my grief for my grandma, but it's still there. Losing so many people in such a short time frame is tough. After my grandma is was my mom, then 6 months later my Aunt Sandy.
It's overwhelming and often confusing. But that's ok. One hour at a time...one day at a time. They are all in my heart and surrounding me. Grief is ok...and it's ok to miss them.
JM
As I grew older I grew closer to my grandma. She was awesome. Always joking around and she had the best laugh. We would watch the Bachelor every monday night and even though she lived 60 minutes away, she would call me when it was done and we would talk about the show. We would talk for hours laughing and joking. She would call the girls "hussies" and I would laugh.
I remember the stories she would tell of my mom and my uncle when they were growing up. When we went to visit her we would always go for a drive and go past all her old "stomping grounds" and she would tell us all her memories.
Christmas time was always a special time for us. She would come down and celebrate with us..staying for a few days. It was always a blast. We would have rye and cokes and play cards for hours and hours. It was the best times and I truly cherish those memories. She loved playing cards. And crafts..well she crochet'd all the time....tried to teach me how to knit...but that just turned into a comedy skit!
Her baking was what inspired me to learn. She would make the most amazing apple pies. And shortbread cookies...well don't' even get me started! To this day I still can't make them just as she did. I remember when she tried to teach me how to "crimp" the edge of a pie....it didn't end well!
My grandma was full of life and love. She taught me what love should look like, and it's because of her I was able to fall in love with Dan and be as happy as I am now with him.
In April 2012 we got a call from my Aunt Sandy that grandma was taken to the hospital. My mom and I rushed down to be there for her. We sat by her bedside and held her hand and prayed that she would pull through. On April 13 she went in for surgery, she came out but we were told it wasn't good. Her body was tired it was done. They took her to a room where we could surround her and be with her. I remember the dr wanted to meet with the family so my mom and aunt and uncle all left to talk with him, and left me there. I held her hand and talked to her. Told her I loved her and that grandpa was waiting for her. I did my best to not cry. She looked at me and squeezed my hand.
Everyone came back and shortly after grandma left us. My mom was broken, and I didn't know how to help her. A few days later we had her service and we said goodbye. Life went on as usual.
I struggled to grieve for her. I missed her so much. My mom was worse of course. I tried to be there for her but it wasn't until I lost her that I understood what she was going through.
My grief for my mom has since "over shadowed" my grief for my grandma, but it's still there. Losing so many people in such a short time frame is tough. After my grandma is was my mom, then 6 months later my Aunt Sandy.
It's overwhelming and often confusing. But that's ok. One hour at a time...one day at a time. They are all in my heart and surrounding me. Grief is ok...and it's ok to miss them.
JM
Monday 2 February 2015
...It's ok to do nothing...grief is hard work...
There is no rule book or guidelines for grief and grieving. One thing people who haven't grieved a major loss in their life is that it is hard work. Grieving is like a full time job. That is on top of everyday expectations and responsibilities.
When I lost my mom I spent 2 weeks in her apartment. I "slept" on the couch and Dan slept next to me on the floor...he was my lifeline. Maybe it was a mistake to stay there, but I needed to be close to her things. Surround myself with her scent and with her life. Alot of people were ok with it at first, and then were anxious for me to go home. I did eventually, but I am so thankful I had that time there.
There were times after everything had settled down that I wanted to just lay in bed. Some days I wanted the world to disappear. I wanted to find a quiet place and hide. Other days I made it out to the couch but didn't want to leave it.....just wanted to watch TV all day. Then I would have a good day.
Well to all those people trying to support someone who is grieving....sometimes doing nothing is ok. It helps to rest all those emotions and escape even for a few hours. I've heard it all...it's not healthy...don't be doing that...don't isolate yourself. And I agree. Everything in moderation.
A year later I still find myself having these days. And I've learned to take them, because they help make the other days bearable.
It's important to let yourself grieve. Everyone does it in there own way and that's ok.
JM
When I lost my mom I spent 2 weeks in her apartment. I "slept" on the couch and Dan slept next to me on the floor...he was my lifeline. Maybe it was a mistake to stay there, but I needed to be close to her things. Surround myself with her scent and with her life. Alot of people were ok with it at first, and then were anxious for me to go home. I did eventually, but I am so thankful I had that time there.
There were times after everything had settled down that I wanted to just lay in bed. Some days I wanted the world to disappear. I wanted to find a quiet place and hide. Other days I made it out to the couch but didn't want to leave it.....just wanted to watch TV all day. Then I would have a good day.
Well to all those people trying to support someone who is grieving....sometimes doing nothing is ok. It helps to rest all those emotions and escape even for a few hours. I've heard it all...it's not healthy...don't be doing that...don't isolate yourself. And I agree. Everything in moderation.
A year later I still find myself having these days. And I've learned to take them, because they help make the other days bearable.
It's important to let yourself grieve. Everyone does it in there own way and that's ok.
JM
Saturday 24 January 2015
.....my life changed 1 year ago...
This blog entry will be my hardest. I've even debated even writing it, but I know selfishly it will be good for me, but more so I hope that I can reach even one person who might be having the same feelings or thoughts or experience. To let them know they are not alone.
To start I should explain what my biggest fear in the world was.
Friday, January 24, 2014 started out like any other day...got up and ready for the day and called my mom. I called my mom every single day...every morning, would talk to her at lunch, and then we would talk 3-5 times a night. It may seem excessive to some people, but it was just our way. We were close...best friends. Anyway, that morning I tried calling her over and over and over again...no answer. That wasn't like her. Maybe she was on the phone...maybe she was in the bathroom....taking garbage out....all these thoughts went through my head.
Dan and I jump in the car and race over to her apartment, because I'm "over reacting". This was typical of me...She had heart problems, so I was always worried about her. We pulled into the driveway of her apartment building. I look up to her bedroom window and I knew. Her curtain wasn't closed. She always closed her curtain so my daycare kids could nap. We parked and I ran into the building and into the elevator where I started sobbing.
I ran to her door...it was locked...I knocked...hear nothing. I have a key of course, so I let myself in and look...I see her laying in bed...oh ok! She over slept...not like her but ok. I walk into her room, and try and shake her awake. I start yelling and grab my phone and call 911. I touched her face...she was so cold...freezing. She was laying on her stomach and the 911 operator kept telling me to roll her over....I couldn't. Dan comes up and I give him the phone and leave the room.
I'm panicked. I can't live without my mom! No she's ok...paramedics are coming and they will fix her...i kept saying that over and over again. After what felt like an eternity paramedics, firemen, and police were there.
2 Paramedics came out of them room and told me there was nothing they could do. She was gone. "I'm so sorry for your loss". I heard it over and over, i even understood it. But no! She was fine! Either this was a bad dream and i'm going to wake up or they are lying to me and she is really ok.
"I'm not ready to do this without her". I remember saying that over and over.
Dan called family and friends and made arrangements for the day. I sat in the chair holding her scarf and looking at her shoes. I found a note asking Dan to put $5.00 on her laundry card. Her lunch was made in the fridge for work. Her clothes were laying out. But she wouldn't wake up.
Can I go back in time? Can I just reverse this so I can do something different? What did I do to deserve this? Who am I going to call when I need help or advice? Who's going to call me out when I'm being stupid?
It wasn't supposed to happen like this. She was supposed to be around for longer. We had made a grocery list the night before. We had made plans for the weekend. Why the hell was this happening?
After a few hours, I was surrounded my friends and family. I should mention we were in her apartment where she was still laying in the next room. Police were still there. I had to give a statement, and we were waiting for a coroner to declare her deceased.
Finally he came, Massive Heart Attack. There was nothing anyone could do. It was very quick.
Those are the words I'm supposed to take and feel comfort from apparently. We were able to take a few minutes with her before the funeral home took her. I cried and cried. Finally she was taken out and was on her way to the funeral home. The next day I had an opportunity to see her and "spend time with her". Our funeral home was very accommodating and I'm so grateful for that. Dan and I went and we got to see her. She looked "better" than she did the morning I found her. She looked peaceful.....she looked at rest. It was reassuring for me. I fixed her hair and talked to her. I said good bye to my mom. My best friend in the whole world. I said goodbye to the most amazing woman I had ever known. A woman that I can only hope and pray I can be even half of. Because I know if I can be then I will be ok.
The next 2 weeks, with help from family and friends, I arranged her service, dealt with bills, people, and paperwork. I slept on her couch for those 2 weeks. I wanted to be close to her. We finally went home, but it was different now. My life was different.
Everyone around me restarted their lives. I sat in the past. I stood beside her bed staring at her lifeless body. Wondering why? why did she leave me? why didn't she just go see a dr? why did I need to be an orphan. Yup I was an orphan.
Fast forward 1 year, and I'm still sad. I still have those questions. I still don't understand why she isn't here with me. I still cry myself to sleep some nights. I close my eyes and see her laying there....happens alot. But I know that all of that is ok.
Grief is a very personal journey. It's a huge amount of work and physically and emotionally draining. I don't even know if it's worth it in the end. I feel like I've spent the majority of my life grieving for somebody. And my grieving for my mom will never end. The hole that she left in my heart and in my life will forever be there. But you know what? That is ok. I know that hole is there, and I'm slowly learning how to live my life without her in it physically. I'm learning how to move on with a hole in my heart and my life.
JM
To start I should explain what my biggest fear in the world was.
Friday, January 24, 2014 started out like any other day...got up and ready for the day and called my mom. I called my mom every single day...every morning, would talk to her at lunch, and then we would talk 3-5 times a night. It may seem excessive to some people, but it was just our way. We were close...best friends. Anyway, that morning I tried calling her over and over and over again...no answer. That wasn't like her. Maybe she was on the phone...maybe she was in the bathroom....taking garbage out....all these thoughts went through my head.
Dan and I jump in the car and race over to her apartment, because I'm "over reacting". This was typical of me...She had heart problems, so I was always worried about her. We pulled into the driveway of her apartment building. I look up to her bedroom window and I knew. Her curtain wasn't closed. She always closed her curtain so my daycare kids could nap. We parked and I ran into the building and into the elevator where I started sobbing.
I ran to her door...it was locked...I knocked...hear nothing. I have a key of course, so I let myself in and look...I see her laying in bed...oh ok! She over slept...not like her but ok. I walk into her room, and try and shake her awake. I start yelling and grab my phone and call 911. I touched her face...she was so cold...freezing. She was laying on her stomach and the 911 operator kept telling me to roll her over....I couldn't. Dan comes up and I give him the phone and leave the room.
I'm panicked. I can't live without my mom! No she's ok...paramedics are coming and they will fix her...i kept saying that over and over again. After what felt like an eternity paramedics, firemen, and police were there.
2 Paramedics came out of them room and told me there was nothing they could do. She was gone. "I'm so sorry for your loss". I heard it over and over, i even understood it. But no! She was fine! Either this was a bad dream and i'm going to wake up or they are lying to me and she is really ok.
"I'm not ready to do this without her". I remember saying that over and over.
Dan called family and friends and made arrangements for the day. I sat in the chair holding her scarf and looking at her shoes. I found a note asking Dan to put $5.00 on her laundry card. Her lunch was made in the fridge for work. Her clothes were laying out. But she wouldn't wake up.
Can I go back in time? Can I just reverse this so I can do something different? What did I do to deserve this? Who am I going to call when I need help or advice? Who's going to call me out when I'm being stupid?
It wasn't supposed to happen like this. She was supposed to be around for longer. We had made a grocery list the night before. We had made plans for the weekend. Why the hell was this happening?
After a few hours, I was surrounded my friends and family. I should mention we were in her apartment where she was still laying in the next room. Police were still there. I had to give a statement, and we were waiting for a coroner to declare her deceased.
Finally he came, Massive Heart Attack. There was nothing anyone could do. It was very quick.
Those are the words I'm supposed to take and feel comfort from apparently. We were able to take a few minutes with her before the funeral home took her. I cried and cried. Finally she was taken out and was on her way to the funeral home. The next day I had an opportunity to see her and "spend time with her". Our funeral home was very accommodating and I'm so grateful for that. Dan and I went and we got to see her. She looked "better" than she did the morning I found her. She looked peaceful.....she looked at rest. It was reassuring for me. I fixed her hair and talked to her. I said good bye to my mom. My best friend in the whole world. I said goodbye to the most amazing woman I had ever known. A woman that I can only hope and pray I can be even half of. Because I know if I can be then I will be ok.
The next 2 weeks, with help from family and friends, I arranged her service, dealt with bills, people, and paperwork. I slept on her couch for those 2 weeks. I wanted to be close to her. We finally went home, but it was different now. My life was different.
Everyone around me restarted their lives. I sat in the past. I stood beside her bed staring at her lifeless body. Wondering why? why did she leave me? why didn't she just go see a dr? why did I need to be an orphan. Yup I was an orphan.
Fast forward 1 year, and I'm still sad. I still have those questions. I still don't understand why she isn't here with me. I still cry myself to sleep some nights. I close my eyes and see her laying there....happens alot. But I know that all of that is ok.
Grief is a very personal journey. It's a huge amount of work and physically and emotionally draining. I don't even know if it's worth it in the end. I feel like I've spent the majority of my life grieving for somebody. And my grieving for my mom will never end. The hole that she left in my heart and in my life will forever be there. But you know what? That is ok. I know that hole is there, and I'm slowly learning how to live my life without her in it physically. I'm learning how to move on with a hole in my heart and my life.
JM
Sunday 18 January 2015
....loosing my dad...
My dad's name is Gerry. Growing up we lived in a house with a big back yard and a huge deck....that he built! I loved that house...I remember the day we moved into it...it was so big...and I was so little! I thought it was awesome and was so excited. I remember my dad asking me if I liked it and I jumped up and hugged him. My dad was a long haul truck driver. That meant that a lot of the times he would be gone all week and we would only see him on weekends. I hated it. My mom and I were not close and she certainly wasn't my favorite person at this point in my life.
He would leave on sunday nights and I would crawl into bed with my mom so I could feel close to my daddy.
His first heart attack I remember. I was young...6 or 7 maybe. I remember my mom waking me up and driving us to the hospital. I remember not knowing what was happening and angry that I was waken up and put into the car. I even remember sitting in the hospital with my mom...snuggled up sleeping...no idea or clue how serious the situation was. That was the first of many attacks he would have.
Time went on, he retired eventually and I was so happy. He was home all the time...I could come home from school at lunch and he would always make me something exciting....hotdogs in Kraft Dinner or bacon on grilled cheese (that didn't go over so good!).
I have 3 "half siblings". I put quotes because I don't think of them like that. They all lived with us during some point of my growing up. The one I remember the most is my sister Sherry. I wanted to be just like her. Everything she did I had to do. I remember sneaking into her bedroom and listening to her New Kids On The Block tape...yes not a cd or mp3...a cassette tape....trying to remember the words so she would think I was cool. I would try and get her in trouble and she did the same with me...i'm sure she thought I was just some pesky little sister. I think my dad secretly loved this, even though I know we drove him nuts.
I finally went to high school and became a teenager....this is when things started to change at home. My dad's health started to get worse, and soon he was limited to just the upstairs. Going up and down stairs was just impossible for him....I wasn't used to this...the same man that I remember carrying me on his shoulders taking me to bed...was stuck on the upstairs level of our house.
The decision was made to move. We moved into an apartment and I was heart broken. Not only was my dad sick but now I had to leave the house that I grew up in and loved. I got a new room that had it's own balcony....pretty cool! It all worked out fine.
My dad was in and out of the hospital, and finally we got a hospital bed in his room, he had his own bathroom and my mom and I had setup a whole system in his room. We had a huge table and his medicine was all layed out. In August 1997 he went into the hospital via an ambulance. It was real now. He came home and had oxygen, IV's, more pills. It was overwhelming. Fortunately my mom was a trained nurse so she was able to care for him at home. She taught me everything, and we came up with a great system. She would cover during the day, and when I got home from school, I would spend time with him, him helping me with homework, and I would take care of his injections, and medicine.
It sounds crazy that a 16 year old was responsible for that....but it gave me time with him, that to this day I cherish and thank god for. Then the best thing ever happened....my teachers went on strike! (hey when your in high school and 16 years old it's pretty awesome). But something else happened too...my dad went back into the hospital...he was having trouble breathing. The next 2 weeks of my life are ones I will never forget.
My grandma came down from chatham, so did my aunt and uncle, next thing I know my brother was down....he's in the army...so now I knew it was a big deal. Then the conversation happened. My mom and my Uncle Max sat me down and told me that they were starting him on Morphine to make him more comfortable and it was just a matter of time before he would pass away. There was nothing more the dr's could do for him. I said No that's not right and cried for the rest of the night.
The teachers strike lasted for 2 weeks....which allowed me time to stay at the hospital and spend time with him. I remember some of his last wishes....a beer....and a panzerotti from Tony's, while watching Casablanca, one of his favorite movies.
On November 7, 1997 my dad passed away. My mom and brother came home from the hospital and I just knew. No words were needed. One of the saddest days of my life. Next was a whirlwind of people. People I didn't know...people I didn't want to see....tons of people. Alot of people ask me if I rebelled after that....not really...the worst I did was sneak into my brother Steven's room and steal a cigarette....tried to smoke it but just got sick.
My mom and I were inseperable after that. My dad wrote a letter to alot of people saying goodbye...and we read it together after everyone was gone and we were alone. I still have that letter in his bible and it stays close to me always. I still can't read it without crying.
The funeral came the next day it was what he wanted. I remember I didn't cry until they played that song...by boz skaggs...close the window i think it was called....then i couldn't stop crying. I remember we walked out of the service and I collapsed into my brothers arms for I don't know how long just sobbing.
Life went on as it does. My mom and I bonded over everything. Became best friends. She helped me with my first love and first heartbreak. We had shopping Thursdays, and would have dinner out just the two of us. It was awesome . I love those memories.
Loosing my dad was horrible. I will always remember him, and he is my hero, and I strive to live everyday as he would have lived his days...to the fullest. I can only hope that he is up there watching over me and is proud of me. I've made mistakes in my life, but i've learned from them and although have done things that i'm not really proud of, i've grown up and I know in my heart that he is right beside me.
I will forever be daddy's little girl...and nothing can or will change that.
thanks for reading
JM
He would leave on sunday nights and I would crawl into bed with my mom so I could feel close to my daddy.
His first heart attack I remember. I was young...6 or 7 maybe. I remember my mom waking me up and driving us to the hospital. I remember not knowing what was happening and angry that I was waken up and put into the car. I even remember sitting in the hospital with my mom...snuggled up sleeping...no idea or clue how serious the situation was. That was the first of many attacks he would have.
Time went on, he retired eventually and I was so happy. He was home all the time...I could come home from school at lunch and he would always make me something exciting....hotdogs in Kraft Dinner or bacon on grilled cheese (that didn't go over so good!).
I have 3 "half siblings". I put quotes because I don't think of them like that. They all lived with us during some point of my growing up. The one I remember the most is my sister Sherry. I wanted to be just like her. Everything she did I had to do. I remember sneaking into her bedroom and listening to her New Kids On The Block tape...yes not a cd or mp3...a cassette tape....trying to remember the words so she would think I was cool. I would try and get her in trouble and she did the same with me...i'm sure she thought I was just some pesky little sister. I think my dad secretly loved this, even though I know we drove him nuts.
I finally went to high school and became a teenager....this is when things started to change at home. My dad's health started to get worse, and soon he was limited to just the upstairs. Going up and down stairs was just impossible for him....I wasn't used to this...the same man that I remember carrying me on his shoulders taking me to bed...was stuck on the upstairs level of our house.
The decision was made to move. We moved into an apartment and I was heart broken. Not only was my dad sick but now I had to leave the house that I grew up in and loved. I got a new room that had it's own balcony....pretty cool! It all worked out fine.
My dad was in and out of the hospital, and finally we got a hospital bed in his room, he had his own bathroom and my mom and I had setup a whole system in his room. We had a huge table and his medicine was all layed out. In August 1997 he went into the hospital via an ambulance. It was real now. He came home and had oxygen, IV's, more pills. It was overwhelming. Fortunately my mom was a trained nurse so she was able to care for him at home. She taught me everything, and we came up with a great system. She would cover during the day, and when I got home from school, I would spend time with him, him helping me with homework, and I would take care of his injections, and medicine.
It sounds crazy that a 16 year old was responsible for that....but it gave me time with him, that to this day I cherish and thank god for. Then the best thing ever happened....my teachers went on strike! (hey when your in high school and 16 years old it's pretty awesome). But something else happened too...my dad went back into the hospital...he was having trouble breathing. The next 2 weeks of my life are ones I will never forget.
My grandma came down from chatham, so did my aunt and uncle, next thing I know my brother was down....he's in the army...so now I knew it was a big deal. Then the conversation happened. My mom and my Uncle Max sat me down and told me that they were starting him on Morphine to make him more comfortable and it was just a matter of time before he would pass away. There was nothing more the dr's could do for him. I said No that's not right and cried for the rest of the night.
The teachers strike lasted for 2 weeks....which allowed me time to stay at the hospital and spend time with him. I remember some of his last wishes....a beer....and a panzerotti from Tony's, while watching Casablanca, one of his favorite movies.
On November 7, 1997 my dad passed away. My mom and brother came home from the hospital and I just knew. No words were needed. One of the saddest days of my life. Next was a whirlwind of people. People I didn't know...people I didn't want to see....tons of people. Alot of people ask me if I rebelled after that....not really...the worst I did was sneak into my brother Steven's room and steal a cigarette....tried to smoke it but just got sick.
My mom and I were inseperable after that. My dad wrote a letter to alot of people saying goodbye...and we read it together after everyone was gone and we were alone. I still have that letter in his bible and it stays close to me always. I still can't read it without crying.
The funeral came the next day it was what he wanted. I remember I didn't cry until they played that song...by boz skaggs...close the window i think it was called....then i couldn't stop crying. I remember we walked out of the service and I collapsed into my brothers arms for I don't know how long just sobbing.
Life went on as it does. My mom and I bonded over everything. Became best friends. She helped me with my first love and first heartbreak. We had shopping Thursdays, and would have dinner out just the two of us. It was awesome . I love those memories.
Loosing my dad was horrible. I will always remember him, and he is my hero, and I strive to live everyday as he would have lived his days...to the fullest. I can only hope that he is up there watching over me and is proud of me. I've made mistakes in my life, but i've learned from them and although have done things that i'm not really proud of, i've grown up and I know in my heart that he is right beside me.
I will forever be daddy's little girl...and nothing can or will change that.
thanks for reading
JM
Saturday 17 January 2015
....alittle back story
My experience with grief started many years ago...really before I even understood anything. 6 years old saying goodbye to my grandpa. I don't remember too much except clinging to my dad and watching my mom be so sad. Next I was 9 years old and my dad's mom died. My grandma H. This time is was more real. I understood more and I remember the funeral and I remember silly stuff like my sister daring me to touch her. But what I remember the most is watching my Grandpa. Watching him touch her hand and sob. Losing his love. It became real for me then.
Fast forward 6 years and it's that time again. This time my grandpa H. The man I had watched mourn his wife...his life long love. Now I watched my dad sob into my moms arms and I was scared. My dad...my amazing dad who was so strong and smart was a puddle of tears and pain.
7 months later the unthinkable happened. My dad died. I was 16. Way too young to have had so much grief, but there it was. I remember the last time I saw my dad. We were at the hospital and my mom said it was time to go home. I knew in my heart it was the last time I would see him alive. I had to shake him awake so I could say goodbye. I held it together and once I was in the hallway with my mom I broke down. Sobbing in the hall. I had just said goodbye to the most amazing man in the world....a man who had taught me kindness, and forgiveness. A man who was supposed to stay and take care of me...was leaving. He died the next morning.
Now it was me and my mom against the world.....which would have been fine, however my mom and I never got along! But something happened...something changed that day. We clung to each other crying missing dad...her missing the love of her life....her heart. My life changed that day. My mom became my best friend. My everything.
Life went on as it does. I graduated high school, got married, got divorced. Got married again. (still happily married 6 years later!) I grew up. My mom was still my best friend...we were so close...it was the best relationship ever. We had survivor nights, and every saturday we would get groceries together. We even lived across the hall in the same apartment building for 3 years.
2012 comes and my grandma gets sick. We loose her on April 13. She was so amazing. I sat beside her with my family and held her hand when she passed. First time in my life I prayed for god to come and take her, to make her safe and happy and take her to be with my grandpa.
That rocked our family. My mom was a mess. Her mom was gone. Her parents were both gone. She didn't know what to do. Over the next couple years I watched her mourn and grieve for her loss. I wish I had known then what I know now.
On January 24, 2014 I woke up thinking it was just like any other day. Nope. I soon learned it was a day that I would never forget. I tried calling my mom and she wouldn't answer....we drive over there and I find her in bed. She was gone. There was nothing I could do. This day has changed my life. It's almost 1 year to the day and it feels like it was yesterday. So many times I go to pick up the phone to call her and tell her something exciting. It's normal of course, but once the realization comes across you, it's just like she's died all over again.
thanks for reading...more soon....
JM
Fast forward 6 years and it's that time again. This time my grandpa H. The man I had watched mourn his wife...his life long love. Now I watched my dad sob into my moms arms and I was scared. My dad...my amazing dad who was so strong and smart was a puddle of tears and pain.
7 months later the unthinkable happened. My dad died. I was 16. Way too young to have had so much grief, but there it was. I remember the last time I saw my dad. We were at the hospital and my mom said it was time to go home. I knew in my heart it was the last time I would see him alive. I had to shake him awake so I could say goodbye. I held it together and once I was in the hallway with my mom I broke down. Sobbing in the hall. I had just said goodbye to the most amazing man in the world....a man who had taught me kindness, and forgiveness. A man who was supposed to stay and take care of me...was leaving. He died the next morning.
Now it was me and my mom against the world.....which would have been fine, however my mom and I never got along! But something happened...something changed that day. We clung to each other crying missing dad...her missing the love of her life....her heart. My life changed that day. My mom became my best friend. My everything.
Life went on as it does. I graduated high school, got married, got divorced. Got married again. (still happily married 6 years later!) I grew up. My mom was still my best friend...we were so close...it was the best relationship ever. We had survivor nights, and every saturday we would get groceries together. We even lived across the hall in the same apartment building for 3 years.
2012 comes and my grandma gets sick. We loose her on April 13. She was so amazing. I sat beside her with my family and held her hand when she passed. First time in my life I prayed for god to come and take her, to make her safe and happy and take her to be with my grandpa.
That rocked our family. My mom was a mess. Her mom was gone. Her parents were both gone. She didn't know what to do. Over the next couple years I watched her mourn and grieve for her loss. I wish I had known then what I know now.
On January 24, 2014 I woke up thinking it was just like any other day. Nope. I soon learned it was a day that I would never forget. I tried calling my mom and she wouldn't answer....we drive over there and I find her in bed. She was gone. There was nothing I could do. This day has changed my life. It's almost 1 year to the day and it feels like it was yesterday. So many times I go to pick up the phone to call her and tell her something exciting. It's normal of course, but once the realization comes across you, it's just like she's died all over again.
thanks for reading...more soon....
JM
Friday 16 January 2015
....and here we go!
So I've made the decision....to become a blogger! Or at least attempt to!
I've watched my husband do it for years, and have always been curious...just never had anything really to blog about...well now I do.
Grief.
Such a heavy word. A word that comes with so many thoughts, ideas and even expectations. It's a word...no a feeling, an emotion that I know all to well. I feel like a grief expert. But before I get into the heavy stuff alittle about me...
I'm 33 years old and I live with my Husband, Dan, and our fur babies in London Ontario. We have Mackie who is a shih tzhu and 1 year old....puppy years lots of fun! Brandy who is a terrier mix and is 15 years old....her hobby is sleeping. Then there are the 4 cats wandering around. Daisy, Bailey, Kit Kat, and Chester. Dan works and i'm what they refer to as a "housewife". In truth i've had health issues that prevent me from working. So I take care of our house and all the animals!
Now why write a blog about grief? It's so sad. depressing. lonely even. Well I've lost alot of people in my life and I figure if there is a chance that by writing my thoughts, feelings and even experiences, that I might be able to help even one person out there who is suffering and feels lost and alone, then it is all worth it.
I plan on going into detail of my feelings and what I did whether it was good or bad or inbetween. But the main motivator for writing this blog.....
January 24, 2014 I lost my best friend. My mom. She had a massive heart attack in her sleep and died instantly. That is where this blog comes from. All my grandparents are gone. And now both my parents are gone. I feel alone...even though i'm not. Sometimes worse than other times.
This is the straw that broken the camels back. This is the reason I'm writing this blog. In my future entries I will go into more detail about my losses, but this is just a tidbit. I have so much grief, and emotions to share. I want to reach out and help people to understand that everyone grieves in their own way and in their own time. There is no time limit on grief. That is the most important thing to remember. Alot of times people will say "aren't you over that yet", or show concern that you are still "sad". Well thats ok. Grief is different for everyone.
Thanks for reading.....
JM
I've watched my husband do it for years, and have always been curious...just never had anything really to blog about...well now I do.
Grief.
Such a heavy word. A word that comes with so many thoughts, ideas and even expectations. It's a word...no a feeling, an emotion that I know all to well. I feel like a grief expert. But before I get into the heavy stuff alittle about me...
I'm 33 years old and I live with my Husband, Dan, and our fur babies in London Ontario. We have Mackie who is a shih tzhu and 1 year old....puppy years lots of fun! Brandy who is a terrier mix and is 15 years old....her hobby is sleeping. Then there are the 4 cats wandering around. Daisy, Bailey, Kit Kat, and Chester. Dan works and i'm what they refer to as a "housewife". In truth i've had health issues that prevent me from working. So I take care of our house and all the animals!
Now why write a blog about grief? It's so sad. depressing. lonely even. Well I've lost alot of people in my life and I figure if there is a chance that by writing my thoughts, feelings and even experiences, that I might be able to help even one person out there who is suffering and feels lost and alone, then it is all worth it.
I plan on going into detail of my feelings and what I did whether it was good or bad or inbetween. But the main motivator for writing this blog.....
January 24, 2014 I lost my best friend. My mom. She had a massive heart attack in her sleep and died instantly. That is where this blog comes from. All my grandparents are gone. And now both my parents are gone. I feel alone...even though i'm not. Sometimes worse than other times.
This is the straw that broken the camels back. This is the reason I'm writing this blog. In my future entries I will go into more detail about my losses, but this is just a tidbit. I have so much grief, and emotions to share. I want to reach out and help people to understand that everyone grieves in their own way and in their own time. There is no time limit on grief. That is the most important thing to remember. Alot of times people will say "aren't you over that yet", or show concern that you are still "sad". Well thats ok. Grief is different for everyone.
Thanks for reading.....
JM
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