I lost my mom this past July. She was the glue that held the family together and the driving force behind our holiday celebrations. Tonight I listened to Christmas music for the first time this season. This Christmas is going to hurt.
Category:Family
bOYZ2mEN
SOO my youngest will be 21 in a few months. I think that I have a lot of thinking to do. I love my boys, oh GOD, do I love my boys, but they aren’t boys any more, not anymore. I am so proud of all of them. They have chosen their paths, and while those paths may not have been what I had hoped for them, those paths weren’t for me to choose to begin with. None the less, I am proud they, my boys, have persevered, have “stuck with” the paths that they have chosen for themselves. They aren’t boys anymore, no not anymore. I have to let them go. They are MEN now; they are my men. Just doesn’t sound the same, but damn they are good men. I have to accept that they are no longer children. I told my youngest: remind me when I say “I love my boys.” that I should say, “I love my young men.” I have to let you go, and I need your help with that. “Yeah, whatever…” They are already gone, I just hadn’t noticed yet.
22 is UNACCEPTABLE
I keep a special place in my heart for veterans. Please accept my GRATITUDE:
For there are those that require our HONOR
There are those that require our THANKS
There are those that require our RESPECT
They stand UNKNOWN in their ranks.
They have sacrificed PERSONAL SOVEREIGNTY
for lost limbs and ANONYMITY
as we are ignorant of their SUFFERING
they fight on in ISOLATION.
because we are blind to their IMMOLATION
they loose heart, and in FRUSTRATION
voices lost in CONFRONTATION.
break the cycle
see the pain
make it right
bring the rain
let them know
its not in vain
why they fought
we KNOW
we THANK
we LOVE
Mama – Mommy – Mom – Womom – Woman
Quite the progression there. And I’m almost at the end. And I just realized it.
With my youngest child at the age of 19, the motherhood thing is coming to a close. I will always be Mom, their mother, but they no longer require the care, supervision and utter support of dependent children. They still require approval, and will for a while, which is ok with me. But we spend more time on equal ground, if not experience, than ever before. And they will always be fun. My boys have always BEEN fun.
I came to this epiphany because of a new hobby. Not one normally thought of as a female thing. It involves very loud noises and lots of lethal force. It is also something I thought I would never do, and I have found it quite liberating as far as overcoming personal obstacles is concerned. I have never been one to stint on research as far as my interests go. The more I can learn, the better I feel about the subject. So, while doing research on my hobby, I read an article about the issues and obstacles women face when pursuing my particular choice of recreation. One of them was guilt. Guilt about not cleaning the house, spending time with the kids, spending money on classes instead of tennis shoes. As I read, I grinned. “My kids are grown, I’m pretty much done with the mom thing.” is what I thought. That’s when it hit me. “My time belongs to me now, which is why I’m trying all of these new things. This is why I’m learning to tear apart engines. This is why I’m challenging myself to conquer personal fears and limitations and systematically eliminate them. This is why I’m suddenly and acutely aware that it’s my life, and I don’t need anyone’s approval to do what I want, other than those I choose from whom to request it.” Oddly enough, I am not saddened to see the end of that part of my life. Any more than I would be saddened by finishing a project for a class one of my sons was doing. Wistful? Maybe. We did it together. We had a good time. We finished the project, and it got an A+. We did a good job together. I can’t feel sad about that. Realizing this, I am ready to continue, fully understanding now, why this is so liberating, so fulfilling, and yes, so much fun.
Wants and Don’t Wants
My father is dying. It hurts. I want to cry. I want to spend as much time as possible with him. I want to quit work for a while and go be with him. I want him to laugh. I want him to teach me everything he knows.
I don’t want to miss him. I don’t want to be doing something and think “I’ll ask Daddy – Oh, Yeah…” I don’t want to hear his voice only in my mind. I don’t want his smile to only be seen in photographs. I don’t want the hole his passing will leave in my life. I don’t want him to suffer. I don’t want him to die.