Friday, October 12, 2007

A Year After


It's been over a year now since Grandma died and almost a year since my birth-mother died. I don't know what to tell people when they ask me about grief. I'm not going to lie and say it gets "better" or "easier" or whatever...because that's bullshit...and what does it really mean? You never stop missing the person you love, you miss them every day and some days you miss them every hour. I'm not going to lie about that. But you do go on with your life. Its amazing how life goes on, how the world moves on. Your children keep growing, you keep doing your chores, paying your bills, going to work...but sometimes, something so simple will set you back. The other night in one of my classes we were discussing genetics and eye color. We were supposed to "map" our genetic history of "eye color" from both sides of our parents. I could not remember what color my mother's eyes were. I could not remember the color. These were the first eyes I ever looked at when I was an infant. Hers was the first voice I heard when I was in her womb. How many times had I looked into her eyes. How many times had we laughed and cried together. Why couldn't I remember?

When you have these "setbacks" they are harsh. A lot of things come flooding back ~ some people say that we only remember the good about the dead loved ones we've lost. That's not true for me. I remember the good, the bad, and the regrets. The regrets are the hardest. This is the only chance we get with the people we love. Trust me on this one. Anyway, I called my Dad and he told me. Green. Just like mine. In fact he says I look a lot like her in a lot of ways. I know this because sometimes when I look in the mirror I am taken aback. I see my Mother. I wonder if she can see me. If she knows my feelings or thoughts. I guess somewhere in the back of my mind I knew her eye color. Why I couldn't bring the information out, well ~ I don't know. Its another mystery of grief. I've come to think of grief as something we eventually learn to live with. It becomes a part of us. A part of who we are. I can finally talk about my grandmother and mother without crying now (most of the time). I have enjoyed simple pleasures again. I have laughed with my children, my friends. I have enjoyed watching a sunrise, weeding my flower garden, and going on night time jogs with my dog Abby. I know that I cannot live in my grief. But it lives inside of me. I read a book recently where a character mentioned...."that is what life is about...sometimes...missing the dead". And I had to put the book down because it was a revelation. Its true. But I don't think we realize this until we lose someone we really love and go through the trauma, then finally the acceptance. Like the old saying goes...I may accept it, but I don't have to like it.

Someone who had lost someone close to them asked me the other day how I had gotten through it. I didn't know what to say at first, so I didn't say anything. I know I didn't want to hear empty platitudes when I was grieving. But I did think about it. During the past year, I have done ALOT of thinking...and here's the god's honest truth. Here's a list...a "top 16" if you will of what has helped me to go on and not lose it completely:

1)My husband and children.
2)My family that is still here on this earth.
3)The good memories...and yes, even the bad.
4)good books
5)good food
6)good wine
7)I discovered "mojito's" and i like those too:)
8)I've learned to let A LOT of things go...life is too short for the bullshit...it just is
9)learning to laugh at myself ~ and laughing with my friends.
10)giving myself "permission" to grieve in the way I NEEDED and not listening to what other people TOLD me I should be doing.
11)Jogging at night or in the early morning with my dog Abby
12)My work, and my friends and students at work, who make me laugh every day I'm there and make me thankful for so much.
13)Dane Cook's comedy
14)Music
15)journaling - and i've had some really crazy journals....but that's okay
16)the ocean

That's it, and there's not an "order"...on any given day one may be better for me than the other. But I've definitely learned to live more in the moment, and do the things that I've been wanting to do instead of listening to other people so much or caring about what other people think. I am who I am....and if they can't take a joke...fuk em :).....I can almost hear my mom laughing and my grandma laughing and saying....."Brandie Lea"......"I swear"....in that Oklahoma twang.

I still haven't forgotten their voices, their faces (except for the brief relapse with the eye color thing) and they will always be a part of me. Their lives...and now their deaths. I do try to live my life in a way that would honor them, and I hope I am. But I'm also my own person. And that's okay. Yes, its a cliche, but life does go on. I guess its how we go on about it that shapes us. I'll be 35 in November. I know my life is probably half over. But I'm going to enjoy it while I'm here, and I hope everyone else does too - no matter what tragedies they face. Live your life like there's no tomorrow is also another cliche...but its true.
That's all for now everyone.
Take care of each other.
"the mom next door"


Anyway, I added the pic of Kat and Amy playing on the beach this past summer because it means a lot to me. It represents a lot. They are just beginning their lives, sitting in the ocean foam on a summer day. I hope they remember those days, those moments. Its what life is all about.