A personal post for Mom

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Do you have those times in life where it feels like a hamster wheel? You are running around overwhelmed by “to dos” but when you stop to look around your feet are still firmly planted in the same place. I’m there. I am also in the “eat ice cream for dinner every night and I dare you to say something judgy because you aren’t the boss of me” phase.

It was this dairy zombie state that inspired this post. I try not to post a lot of personal strife stories on here. For one that is what private diaries are for (please please leave it out of your Facebook status update as well) and two, everyone has challenges and setbacks in life. I would rather spend our time together talking about mine and your successes of coming through those life lessons, “cultivate inspiration” is my mantra for it. I also remembered that you spend some of your life investing in me and reading and commenting on posts. I love that about you, it makes me feel like we are connected and could totally start a book club and we would be best friends (and I am positive you are an awesome hugger) and it makes me feel confident in sharing the not so glamorous portions of my life with you was well. So thanks for sticking around.

Let’s continue with the mantra of inspiration. The woman who instilled fearlessness in me from a young age and told me I could do and be whatever I wanted and to dream bigger and hand sewed Halloween costumes (and numerous other clothing items since) and had a doctorate in genetics (seriously the smartest person I know!) is sick and in the hospital. Don’t be sorry, don’t , Mom is in great capable hands, she is enjoying the gossip magazines and puzzles my sisters bring her and there is more to the story.

Mom has been sick for a while, she had a heart transplant when I was 18. Still not time to be sorry , I might never give you the option throughout this whole post.  She has pretty much been in and out of medical care facilities since. My parents were right: life is tough and unfair and indiscriminate. Throughout all of it though my mother has kept her positive attitude and ridiculously sharp wit (as in before she had her heart transplant she wanted to take up smoking because she had never tried it before and was going to get a new heart anyway). She is back in the hospital now and this time feels a little more scary, all my siblings can feel it, my mom however only wants to discuss ridiculous celebrity baby names and how she only gets 12 channels on her TV and 6 of them are the local University stations. She continues to cultivate beautiful inspiration even at her most challenging time. My youngest sister, who also blogs and will someday be a super famous and successful journalist, was inspired by mom to write one of the most beautiful things I have read. I included an excerpt below and a link to the full post at the bottom. I couldn’t give a better voice to how I’m feeling right now and am thankful to have such a talented friend and sister.  I love you Mom

 

I’m 18 and in college. I’m miles away from the home of a mother who cared more about me than I ever could have imaged over the course of my life.

She wasn’t normal, but she didn’t have to be. She didn’t need to be. She didn’t need to conform to the expected actions of a mother because she held the same – no – even better characteristics. She taught me to become the person I am today by overcoming the obstacles that are supposed to stand in our way. Her illness didn’t define her

No, she defined it.

Why she couldn’t make it to events? She understood her boundaries, her limits. She gave all that she could, until it became more then she knew she could handle.

Limited.

Why she took so many pills and slept day and night and became a regular at the hospital? Because she valued her health and was not ready to give up by any means.

Strength.

Why she embarrassed me in public? Because she cared about me. She always had and I was so blinded by the expectation of moms to see it.

Compassion.

I call her and she answers from her hospital bed – I know she is hooked to machines, beeping like robots.

“I’m doing okay.”

was always her response to the vague question of ‘how are you?’. Okay –  her way of saying ‘I’m not great, but I’m not trying to make you worry’.

Selflessness.

Hearing the latest news of mom in a hospital, imagining her getting poked by pointy needles and falling asleep to the beep of machines, leaves me in tears. Tears because I’m not there with her. Tears of love. Tears of hope.

I’ve lived my life in hospitals. Not for myself, but for my mother.

I love my mother. I’ve never had a normal mom, but she’s absolutely perfect. And I’m forever grateful.

excerpt used with permission from My Daily Realizations. For the full post click here

4 comments

  1. I really loved reading this, as much as it scared me. I just wrote a post on my mom’s 57th birthday. To me she seems so invincible, but I have to remind myself that she’s human, just like me. thank you for writing this.

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