It's Sunday night and I watch Grey's Anatomy with my daughter and we don't care at all about the Superbowl. We watch Grey's. We love it. And tonight my heart cracks wide open and I bury my face in the blanket on my lap and I weep, all because of yesterday.
It was Saturday night and it went like this:
I'm off tomorrow, after 11 days in a row, and so tonight feels like a celebration for G and I. There is dinner in front of the TV - and a rented movie from Amazon Prime - and there are brownies AND ice cream AND chips. I am indulgent and catering to his whims. When our movie is almost over, there is the ultimate finale: "hey G", I say. "I don't have to get up early for work tomorrow, do you want to have a sleep over in my bed?" He hoots with joy while kicking his little bare feet and pumping his little fists into the air. He crows, "This is the BEST night EVER!" I agree with my whole heart.
We are snuggled up in my bed. The heated mattress pads are on, we are in flannels and reclining on an over abundance of pillows. The down comforter and heavy quilt feel safe and cozy. I check some last minute emails in the glow of the reading light. G says, out of the blue, "how old would your momma be now if she were alive?" We've talked about this in the past. He has grandparents from his father and sees them often enough to have a relationship and connection. Both of my parents are long gone, as well as my stepfather. His only connection to 'grandparents' is his fathers parents whom he sees once every few months.
"She would be, um, 76 I think?" I am bad at math and try to calculate as quick as I can - he is amazing at math and I don't feel up to the shame of being wrong right now. He thinks for a minute and then says, "But how old was she when she died?" In the back of my mind I understand that he is asking about my age, and death, and my longevity but my mouth just blurts out the answer, "She was 52", before I can fully grasp that A) he is good at math and B) I am 49.
"Ohhhh..." he says in a whisperish voice (as much as a wild monkey of a 6 yr old boy can whisper) "52? That's so sad momma, 52 just isn't enough!"
*crickets*
"Yeah, buddy, I know... it wasn't enough...but don't worry, I'm strong and healthy and I'll be here for a long long time!" I lie. Who knows? I mean... really. Who knows?
I am crying, again, as I type this.
He is so right. 52 was not enough. Not for her, for her husband, not for me or my brothers, or for HER brothers, not for her mother, or for the grandchildren she knew - nor for the ones she never met. It wasn't enough. Not even close. I cried while hugging my lanky, toothless, 6 year old elbow-ey little boy - the one who never met my momma (who would have LOVED him!) and he hugged me back.
Tonight,because of last night; while watching Greys Anatomy with my 21 year old daughter (who also never met my momma, her grammy, who would have loved her immeasurably) my heart broke along some fault line that was created some 24 years ago and it remains a little wider tonight, a little more crumbly and unstable, and so surprisingly that I'm unable to go for more than 5 minutes without it pinching and hurting me.
I don't know what it's like to lose a child - a piece of you that has grown under your heart and within your body - I don't know what it's like to lose the partner you've chosen to share your life with and have memories and growth with - I don't know what it's like to lose a sibling - a cell compatible bond and the one you share childhood experiences and the shaping of your adultness with - but losing the ones who created you? The one who birthed you from their own body, the ones who nurtured and protected and rejoiced in you? The ones who know who you are, who you were, who you COULD be? I've lost those... I know that pain...and that emptiness...and that really fucking sucks.
Grey's Anatomy didn't break me tonight - it just reminded me where I was already broken. Broken in the way that lets light shine in and illuminate me so that I shine brighter, so that I can shine on someone else who needs some light. I might have buried my face in a blanket and hid for a moment tonight, but tomorrow I will remember to shine in all my broken emptiness and to be a vessel of hope and brilliance that can light the way for someone else.
Thank you Grey's Anatomy. Thank you momma. Thank you daddy. Thank you Mike. I am full of light because of you.
Showing posts with label Light. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Light. Show all posts
February 3, 2019
April 1, 2018
Little Glimpses
Right after the new year I went through a challenging time. In a desperate moment, I reached out to my adult kids for connection. My Boston residing 22 year old son came with his sweetheart, no hesitation and no questions asked. They came on the train and stayed over night and we ate, we drank, we talked, we played games, and their compassionate and loving presence generally helped to ground me. My west coast residing 28 year old daughter talked me through weeks of endless nights over the phone, until she was on spring break from school and could fly out and visit. My 19 year old home-girl doled out hugs and amazingly sarcastic one-liners that made me smile even when I thought I never would again. My children became the solid foundation that anchored me and yet they gave me wings all at the same time. It was like parenting came full circle for a time. I saw that I did a pretty good job raising such caring people who know how to show up when showing up matters.
I lay in my bed (heated mattress pad, flannel sheets, down comforter, hello New England spring!) and I listen to the wild giggles pouring from the kitchen. It is music to me, a symphony filling every corner of this apartment with LIFE. My oldest daughter is home for the first time in two and a half years. 2.5. Yes, TWO years and SIX months; probably longer. I stopped counting after awhile... I saw her 15 months ago but it wasn't at 'home' and it was different. Now she is home. Just ask her little sister, or either of her little brothers - this is HOME with Chickadee here, bossing us all around and setting the rules and the limits. It is the BEST thing ever. The giggles of my girls together in the kitchen wash over me and fill up all the empty parts of my heart.
Now she's gone again, back to HER home which is 3000 miles away from my hug. The laughter of all my children together still lingers in my heart and fills it full.
It is Easter. I have celebrated the resurrection of Christ in so many different ways over the past years. I have celebrated with large family gatherings including cousins and board games; joined with friends from church in a pot luck style; eaten with just two of my children, lonely, in a restaurant... this year I even celebrated by being completely alone. It wasn't a bad thing - it was contemplative and restorative. I think that it might be one of the best ways I've spent the holiday, in all its intention, in my adult life. I spent it this way by choice though and maybe its that fact which made this day one of peace for me. It is a kind of peace I've been needing to feel.
The more holidays that I spend as a single adult, the more comfortable I am making choices that best suit ME. It is more in my nature to make everyone else feel happy, especially when I was actively parenting small children and trying to build traditions and memories, but as my children have become adults with all their own wants and choices, it seems easier now to place my own desires ahead of theirs. It makes me a different kind of parent for Griffin; and a better one I think. He'll see a more independent and strong woman as his mom and for him? For him I think that will ultimately serve his needs best as well. Funny how that works out in the end...by putting myself first, I become a better mom for this specific child at this specific time. Balance. Ah, there it is again.
It is spring, in spite of the frigid 30 degree weather and remnants of snow in patches on the ground. We move forward into the light, again, my little sidekick brown eyed boy and I. We move forward and I watch as my adult children do the same. We aren't together always, but we aren't truly alone either. We hold hands and we fall down and we help each other up and we find balance together; sometimes anchoring each other, and sometimes encouraging flight. The light is longer, brighter, and warmer as every day passes. It's good to know the dark days are fading away.
I lay in my bed (heated mattress pad, flannel sheets, down comforter, hello New England spring!) and I listen to the wild giggles pouring from the kitchen. It is music to me, a symphony filling every corner of this apartment with LIFE. My oldest daughter is home for the first time in two and a half years. 2.5. Yes, TWO years and SIX months; probably longer. I stopped counting after awhile... I saw her 15 months ago but it wasn't at 'home' and it was different. Now she is home. Just ask her little sister, or either of her little brothers - this is HOME with Chickadee here, bossing us all around and setting the rules and the limits. It is the BEST thing ever. The giggles of my girls together in the kitchen wash over me and fill up all the empty parts of my heart.
Now she's gone again, back to HER home which is 3000 miles away from my hug. The laughter of all my children together still lingers in my heart and fills it full.
It is Easter. I have celebrated the resurrection of Christ in so many different ways over the past years. I have celebrated with large family gatherings including cousins and board games; joined with friends from church in a pot luck style; eaten with just two of my children, lonely, in a restaurant... this year I even celebrated by being completely alone. It wasn't a bad thing - it was contemplative and restorative. I think that it might be one of the best ways I've spent the holiday, in all its intention, in my adult life. I spent it this way by choice though and maybe its that fact which made this day one of peace for me. It is a kind of peace I've been needing to feel.
The more holidays that I spend as a single adult, the more comfortable I am making choices that best suit ME. It is more in my nature to make everyone else feel happy, especially when I was actively parenting small children and trying to build traditions and memories, but as my children have become adults with all their own wants and choices, it seems easier now to place my own desires ahead of theirs. It makes me a different kind of parent for Griffin; and a better one I think. He'll see a more independent and strong woman as his mom and for him? For him I think that will ultimately serve his needs best as well. Funny how that works out in the end...by putting myself first, I become a better mom for this specific child at this specific time. Balance. Ah, there it is again.
It is spring, in spite of the frigid 30 degree weather and remnants of snow in patches on the ground. We move forward into the light, again, my little sidekick brown eyed boy and I. We move forward and I watch as my adult children do the same. We aren't together always, but we aren't truly alone either. We hold hands and we fall down and we help each other up and we find balance together; sometimes anchoring each other, and sometimes encouraging flight. The light is longer, brighter, and warmer as every day passes. It's good to know the dark days are fading away.
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