Strength can take a flying leap.....

I am about ready to write a real downer of a post and want to warn you now to not read any further if you do not feel up to it. (and, I certainly do not recommend you reading this at work, either, unless you need a good cry and don't mind if the whole world sees you - but, please do if you want co-workers to be concerned about you and give you the rest of the day off!)

Most of the time I am an upbeat person. I am always trying to motivate, encourage and be positive about life, work, working out, etc. But, some days it’s just not working for me. Some days I cannot help but miss my family. These are the days where there seems to be only about two people out there who understand and they are my sister as she shares my solidarity in our family and my friend, Afunt.

Some days I think about my mother so much it’s like she’s right there and I just want to pick up the phone and call her and know I cannot. We lost her 7 years ago last month to breast cancer. What brought all this up for me this week is an episode of Nip and Tuck. Funny how a T.V. show can do that. I really enjoy that show and have been renting the first season and watching it. One of the characters on the show had breast cancer and it had metastasized into her lungs, liver and brain and she only had a few months to live.

This was exactly what my mother went through before she died. It was a terrible time for everyone but mainly for her. We had this relationship where we really didn’t talk about serious things. She knew I was gay but we never talked about it or our real feelings. No one in our family did – it was understood. When she got sick she didn’t want me to see her. In fact, she was mad at me those times where I did come to the hospital and see her. I think she knew she was on her way out and didn’t want me to remember her like that. She had about 4 months of misery in the hospital and was gone after that – with only 2 out of the 10 required chemo treatments complete. At the time, her and our grandmother weren’t speaking, either. Gma – where I get my (normally) motivating, positive and energetic outlook from – always kept telling my mother she could beat this thing and she’d be fine. After a few times of this Mom kicked Gma out of her hospital room and wouldn’t let her in. (Yes, Gma did outlive mom – she didn’t pass until almost 6 years later – of the age of 93).

After Mom had passed it seemed like my life spun out of control. I broke up with my gf of 7 years (to which I NEVER regretted for a single moment!) and we had to sue each other over custody of the house. (I won, thanks to an early inheritance from Mom, I was able to buy her out) Our father whom we barely got along with while mom was alive made it clear he didn’t ever want to see our grandmother again (the feeling was mutual) and started treating us even worse than he did prior to Mom’s death. (I still barely speak to him and have deep feelings of apathy towards him.)

This was when I decided to see a good therapist whom I saw for several years after that.
I look at myself now, my accomplishments and wonder if I would have been able to do all this if it wasn’t for Mom insisting on my going to college. I also wonder if I would have the strength I do now if I hadn’t ever gone through her and Gma’s death and basically had to live on my own and not rely on anyone – certainly not family members- but myself. I know that period gave me the strength that I have now.

But, sometimes you just want to tell strength to fuck off.

Sometimes you just want your Mom.