Posts tagged ‘mom’

April 11, 2014

Happy Sibling Day ?

siblingsSo, it’s “Siblings Day”? Never heard of it before. I’m sure my brothers will agree that there are way too many new holidays these days. Must be Hallmark trying to improve sales or something. Sheesh. We can barely keep track of the essential ones. Still, all these posts on Facebook about siblings made me reflect on my relationship with my brothers, and I felt like writing about it a bit. Only one of my brothers is on Facebook. Ironically, he’s the one who until fairly recently was pretty computer illiterate, and I figured he always would be. But, that’s one of the things about brothers. They can surprise you. For example, you can go your whole teenage life thinking that a brother hates you, and then you grow up and realize that they actually always did care.

When I was a kid, it seemed I had one big brother who let me hang out with him, and in the process taught me how to do everything I wasn’t supposed to do. Man, we had some fun though. Then, I had my oldest big brother that would get upset with me for doing those things, and tell on me. Because my oldest brother seemed to love to see me get in trouble and to NOT have fun, I assumed he didn’t like me much. Of course, I was wrong. He was just very protective. I realized that the older I became. When it came down to it, both of my brothers were always there for me, and still are. I always knew that. It’s a good feeling.

Growing up, I was always trying to be one of the boys. Except, I never really was. For starters because nobody was allowed to hurt me. My father would allow my brothers to kill each other – but, they were not allowed to hit me. Of course, they still did sometimes, rarely… but, they sure as hell didn’t let anyone else mess with me. My oldest brother was probably the most protective. He claims this is because he was the one to get in trouble if/when any of us got in trouble. I’ll buy that. The only one more scary-protective of me than my oldest brother was my Dad… and Dad could be pretty scary. After-all, he did regularly say things like, “I’ll rip your arm off and beat you over the head with the bloody end of it!”.

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April 1, 2014

Shadow Talk

I’m not ready
to talk about you just yet
or the fact that your gone
but not really gone.

I can’t summon words,
dark or remorseful enough,
that express this, or allow
undeserved escape

from questions suppressed
in fear of answers that may be
too difficult to face.
Like fabled sea monsters
that might lurk below
in shadows, they grow.

~ smj


Collective Soul – In Between

February 8, 2014

Orphans and Mothers

“Mom?  Does this make you an orphan now?”

That was what my son asked me as we broke our embrace that night when I came home from the hospital.  He had already heard the news – his grandmother, my mother, had passed away.

Her passing was completely unexpected.  Quick.  She was gone before we even knew what was happening.  None of us got to say goodbye.  My son’s question caught me off guard, and I felt myself smile a sad smile in spite of the overwhelming pain that had sunk my heart deep into the pit of my stomach.

I looked down into my son’s big, blue eyes as they peered up into my own eyes, searching for – something.  I suddenly worried about what he might find. I didn’t want him to worry about me. That isn’t his job. I felt myself grow a little stronger, for him. As if i had to in order to be tugged back into his world.

My world had stopped up at the hospital. Again. It had come to a shocking halt, along with my mother. I felt numb. Everything was a blur. A bad dream you can’t escape from. Everything else just stops. Nothing else seems to matter.

But, now, my son’s worrisome gaze was forcing me to focus on him, and what he was thinking. How he was feeling. He mattered.

It wasn’t the first time he had played this role in my life.  When my father passed away year’s before, it was this same son, and the thought of how I needed to help him into this world, that kept me going. My father passed shortly before he was born. Everyone was so worried about me. They thought the stress of losing my father would just add too much stress to my pregnancy. But they didn’t know, was that it was just the opposite. Having a new life inside me to focus on that needed me was what kept me from spiraling into a funk.  And, now, he was forcing me to focus on him once again, and the question he had asked so tentatively –  was I an orphan now?

In a way, I felt like maybe I was….  but, no, that didn’t seem right.  Not really.  They don’t have a word for grown-ups who have lost both parents.  Do they?  I couldn’t think strait.  Hell, I could barely even wrap my head around the fact that both my parents were now gone.  I did feel alone.  Of course, I knew I wasn’t.  I had a husband who loved me, children I adore, and many other family members and good friends.  But, they are not my parents.  I mean, really, nobody loves you like your mother or father does.  Nobody.

It’s a strange feeling to suddenly not feel like you have that kind of love, and even support, in your life.  Your parents are your biggest fans.  Well, at least mine were.  Even if your relationship isn’t the best… they are still your mother… or father… and there may be a lot more good there than you really appreciated.   Maybe for some, that is not true.  I feel bad for them… but, for most of us – there is deep love there.  Myself included. Oh, I admit my relationship with my mother was strained at times – but, there was never any doubt that she loved me, and vice versa.   I am thankful for that. And, I don’t think anyone can fully understand just how deep feelings and connections with parents run, until that connection is actually severed.

I tried to concentrate, and stared back into my son’s sympathetic, inquisitive, eyes that had not left my face.  He was obviously feeling sorry for me. Apparently, he knew enough about orphans to know it wasn’t a good thing.  He also knew my father had passed away years ago – a few months before he was even born.  My father’s passing had been anything but unexpected, or quick.   My younger son never got the chance to meet him.  But, he had heard all about him.  I told him so many stories about his “Pa”,  that he felt like he knew him.  He grew up knowing how much I loved my father.  I tried to tell him funny stories, and talk about happy memories.  But, I’m sure it probably wasn’t hard to see that I also missed my father.  Now, my son was worried about me missing my mother too.

“No, honey.  This doesn’t make me an orphan”, I told him with a little smile, trying to ease his worried mind.

He only stared up at me sadly. He said nothing, but his eyes were searching my face, obviously still concerned, and also still questioning.  He wanted to understand the answer to his question.  Normally, I’m all about improving my children’s vocabulary, and as we would read a book, I never hesitated to stop to answer questions, or discuss the meanings of words.  But, I didn’t feel like explaining, this time.  Still, I felt he deserved an explanation.  Some things in life do not change, even when we feel like our whole life has just changed.  Being a mother is one of those things.

So, I explained that an orphan, refers to a child who does not have any parents.  And, that since I was all grown up, I was not an orphan.  I told my son that I was fortunate to have had a caring mother and father for my whole childhood, and well into my adult life.  Not long enough…  never long enough…  but, still, longer than many.  And, so, no, I did not consider myself an orphan.

My son still looked concerned, but seemed content with my explanation.  He added one more word to his ever-expanding vocabulary.

I added a few more reasons to the mental check-list I was working on, titled, “Reasons I Can’t Completely Loose It“.   I realized I had a few really good reasons, actually.  Both of my boys for starters.  They alone are good reason for most things I do.   Add to that the fact that it’s not their job to worry about me.  It is my job to try to make them feel better… and to help them understand things…  Not to mention to help develop their vocabulary.

In the end, my children help me more than they can ever know.

I hope my parents would say the same of me.  I wish I could help them more now.  I wish I hadn’t been such a pain in the ass when I was younger.  I hope my Mom knew I loved her so much, even when I didn’t act like it.

I miss them both so much.

 

 

November 1, 2011

Always Never

You said you stayed because you cared
about vows, and how to leave would be a sin.
Still, you were always never there

when all you craved lived in your prayers
for him, our lives, to be born again.
You said you stayed because you cared.

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December 24, 2010

Merry Stressmas and “The True Meaning of Christmas”…

Merry Stressmas to all…  and to all a good weekend & year!  Things are going full speed ahead around here…  gearing up towards the big night tonight, and tomorrow.  I am *almost* ready…  but, still lots to do today.

I have been feeling very reflective lately.  I keep comparing where I am this year, to where I was last year…  or 2 years ago…  or 5 years ago… 10… 20…  etc…  Wish I had some down time to write more now, but, no time today.  I’m sorta looking forward to Sunday… and definitely looking forward to next week when I took off time from work.  Hopefully I’ll have time to catch up more and write more then.  Until “then”, I hope anyone reading this is doing well…   staying warm..  and, that 2011 brings joy and happiness to you!  I’d also like to thank any of my blog friends (you know who you are) for “listening” and your encouragement.  Much appreciated.  =)

And now, I thought I’d re-post something I wrote in a different blog a few years back….   it still applies…. =)

The “True” Meaning of Christmas
December 5, 2007 — samanthamj

The other day, I heard a Christian get very upset about people who say “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas”. He actually went into a bit of a rant about it, and how he is sure to tell folks back, “No, Merry CHRISTmas!” (in a very sarcastic sneer of a voice), when this happens. After all, that’s what Christmas is about, right? Pissing people off and getting pissed off, that is, right? ?!? Come on! Makes ya afraid to wish people well… they might get themselves in a tizzy over it. Sheesh…

Ya know? Like most kids I loved Christmas as a child. I have fond memories of moments with both my mother and my father – both individually and as a family. We weren’t the model family by any means…  my parents did not get along, at all – but, I only

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