Coming Out of the Closet

– Posted in: Gratitude, Grief, Mom dying, Momless, Money, Parenting, Personal Insanity

My mom died a year ago today.  I’ve heard people say this sort of thing a bunch of times, but it still feels like she’s just on vacation in Asia or something.  It’s like we haven’t seen her and she hasn’t called for a while, but surely she’ll be home soon.

Today was actually fine.  We went to my dad’s house, wrote little notes to my mom, and let them float away on balloons (completely bad for the environment, I know — I’m giving myself a pass until I find a choked bird).  My son basically flipped out.  First he didn’t want to do it.  Then he was the first to try our idea of writing a message directly on the balloon, and it blew up.  The explosion hurt his hand, a little, but it was enough to initiate what I’m sure he needed to do in the first place — cry.  Then when we went out to let the balloons go, he suddenly had to go to the bathroom (which always takes about 15 minutes — like father, like son).  When that finally got rectified — after an empty toilet paper incident and his father close to strangling him — he was pretty much done.  Didn’t even want to release his balloon.

The rest of it came off without a hitch.  My brother’s family in Texas also let balloons go, right when we did.  They even aborted the mission when the potty emergency broke (“Dallas, we have a problem”).  I watched the balloons until my middle-aged eyes had lost all but two of them.  There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

But like I said, I’m feeling okay today.  A couple of days ago, not so much.  A couple of days ago, my washing machine broke, my vacuum cleaner stopped working, and then I had a small nervous breakdown.  I should add here that over the last year, in addition to losing my mom, we’ve basically gone from being fairly well-off to having to dip into our savings every month to get by.  Basically it comes down to a huge salary cut for my husband, and while I feel guilty complaining about it since we’re not on food stamps and we’re still doing things like throwing a huge birthday party for my daughter’s 6th birthday, it’s stressing me out.  But back to the nervous breakdown. . .

I pretty much hit my endpoint and was doing that thing where you kind of walk around the house wildly and without direction while sobbing (I was alone, incidentally — imagine the kids being around for this).  I was also ranting to myself, or rather, to my dead mother, about how I couldn’t do this anymore.  And then, as I was berating my dead mother for not leaving me anything, not writing anything to me to make me feel better at times like these, I started walking toward my closet (sometimes I’ll just put on one of her shirts to make myself feel better).  And this is when I remembered the box.

The box was full of a bunch of letters and cards from me that she’d kept over the years.  She gave it to me before she died, and I never looked through it.  I suppose I figured this was stuff from me, not from her.  Plus, at the time, I still had her.  But now. . .  well, you work with what you’ve got.  So I started reading what was essentially a mini-blog (only it’s on this stuff called “paper”).  I read the letters I’d sent home from college and grad school, talking about the boys I’d seen in the dining hall, the classes that were killing me, and all the dorm gossip.  I read the cards I’d sent for birthdays and Mother’s Day, telling her how grateful I was that she was my best friend, how proud I was that she was my mom, and how I missed her so much.  I read the notes I’d written, thanking her for paying my tuition, putting on our wedding, and fighting so hard to beat breast cancer the first time.  Thanking her for being supportive even when I was dating the wrong guy.  Thanking her for marrying my dad.  Thanking her for being my mom.    

And I found one last letter, written by my mom to her parents when she was only about 23-years-old.  All things considered, my mom had a good relationship with her parents.  But it wasn’t as close as the one I have with mine.  Her letter had that same tone of youthful enthusiasm that mine all had.  The news about friends and new jobs and nice “boys.”  But it ended with her telling them that she hoped they didn’t think she didn’t love them because she’d gone away.  That it was because they’d raised her to be able to take care of herself and believe in herself that she’d had the courage to move away from home.  And that she hoped they didn’t hold it against her.  Given the fact that my mom drove with me across the country when I went to grad school, it was, fortunately, the type of letter I never had to write.

So I learned a lot from my reading session in the closet (because I of course just sat there on the floor with the box).  First, I have always been moody, crazy, irreverent, indecisive, and late sending cards (despite my belief to the contrary).  Second, I was a daughter who made sure my parents knew how much they meant to me and how grateful I was for everything they gave me.  And third, I had a relationship with my mother that was, frankly, something most girls just dream about.

My mother was the best kind of mother — the kind who truly knew her children.  She knew that when it came down to it, the best person to help her leave a message for me was, me.  And the greatest way to show me how much she loved me was to let me remember how much I loved her.

Thanks Mom.  I miss you.  We’re all still here but not the same.

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19 Comments… add one

Verity July 3, 2010, 11:25 pm

Love you, Friend. Thinking of you lots…

MultipleMum July 4, 2010, 1:34 am

Oh my! Such a heavy day for you 🙁 Your post is gorgeous. You are so lucky to have had such a wonderful relationship with your Mum. I'm truly sorry for your loss. Take the best of care. x

jazzygal July 4, 2010, 12:23 pm

Hi..I'm visiting from Mom Bloggers.
Sorry to hear about your mom, but what a lovely post to her memory. I hope your closet read has helped! xx Jazzy

Crystal July 5, 2010, 1:39 pm

This post really made me think; my mom and I are usually always at odds, and she drives me crazy. A lot. But what if I didn't have her? You've opened my eyes.

Tammy July 5, 2010, 3:14 pm

@Verity: Love you, too.

@MultipleMum: Thanks so much for your concern and kind words. And thanks for calling my writing gorgeous. I think that's a first.

@jazzy (sorry, I like calling you just “jazzy”): Yes, thank god for closets. I also enjoy hanging out under furniture when the need strikes me. Must be some sort of dog/den thing.

@Crystal: I don't want you going around thinking my mom didn't drive me nuts. I think that's a genetic requirement. In fact, I think at one point, I had a thought for a play called, “Can you still want to kill your mother, even if she's dying?” But, yes, it puts it all into perspective. And I have a much easier time cherishing people now. And when she was still here, the littler things didn't seem to matter nearly as much.

BTW, thanks for the tweet! I never think to do that sort of thing. Now I will (not a very good social networker yet).

Kassie July 5, 2010, 3:52 pm

what a lovely tribute to your mom — the balloons. i'm yet to read all of the letters/ diaries my mom left for me.

Tammy July 6, 2010, 6:09 pm

@Kassie: It was my dad's idea. I'm sorry about your mom. It's such a bitter-sweet experience to watch your kids grow up without your mother.

KimD July 7, 2010, 6:15 am

Wow, great post. I was going through the same thing a couple weeks ago about my dad…and he passed 9 years ago! Every year it always seems like it happened just yesterday.

You are blessed to have had such a great relationship with your mother. Be proud of it, cherish it, and let the world know about it!

-KimD

Tammy July 10, 2010, 11:35 pm

@KimD: Thanks for the support. I've heard it gets better with time, but really, I just wonder. Especially when I hear that your dad passed away 9 years ago and you're still feeling it. I suppose the alternative would be to feel nothing at all, and that would be worse.

Nikki July 11, 2010, 8:21 am

I got a message you put in a friend request on mom blogger's club and I followed you here.

I started crying when I got to this post. I'm so sorry about the loss of your mother. My dad passed away when I was 10 and I am very close to my mom. I'm 35 now and she is my best friend and confident. I've often thought about what life would be like without her. This post has made me appreciate her that much more.

Talk to her every day.

Feel her in your heart.

See her when you look in the mirror.

God bless you. You have a wonderful blog.

nikki
thehousewifechronicles.net

Tammy July 11, 2010, 10:46 am

@Nikki: I'm so sorry about your dad. That must've been incredibly difficult. And thanks for your kind words. We're lucky women to have mothers who are/were also our best friends.

Dianne July 12, 2010, 2:52 pm

Thanks. I loved your heart felt words. Thanks for putting your feelings into words and sharing them.

Tammy July 13, 2010, 11:45 pm

Thanks for reading, Dianne. I appreciate the compliment.

Dana October 20, 2010, 7:17 am

I'm glad you found the box of letters — and shared your memories. This is a beautiful post.

Tammy October 20, 2010, 1:04 pm

Thanks Dana. I hope I didn't bum you out. Your comment just reminded me of me.

Claudia Schmidt February 12, 2014, 3:14 pm

What a beautiful post. I, of course, can relate in a very different way as I have a daughter who is 18 and I hope that someday she feels the way you did if/when I die whether it be from a recurrence or just plain old age. Your mother was so proud of you and how wonderful that you wrote her all those letters and told her how much she meant to you while she was still alive. I’ll be back….xo
Claudia Schmidt recently posted..Digging Deep To Find A Reason To Be Grateful This WinterMy Profile

Tammy February 12, 2014, 8:45 pm

Thank you so much Claudia. It’s funny how as my daughter gets older and my mom’s death gets further away, I think more about these kinds of things from the mom perspective. Guess that’s just how it goes.:)
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The AnimatedWoman March 17, 2014, 2:45 pm

You got me, Tammy.

(Your blog apparently doesn’t think this comment is long enough, as it keeps giving me this message “You have not typed enough words in the comment. Please go back and add some more”; hopefully it’s long enough now).
The AnimatedWoman recently posted..Bossy.My Profile

Tammy April 11, 2014, 10:53 am

My blog can get very snarky. It also corrects your grammar and tells you if your comment is frivolous…

I’m both glad I got you and am not. You know what I mean.
Tammy recently posted..20 Things in my Life that are (Almost) EXACTLY the Same as When I was in CollegeMy Profile

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