We booked our tickets this morning. My heart was pounding out of my chest. My anxiety ramped up and I had to walk away. What might not be stressful for someone else was intense for me. The trip down isn't so bad. Both flights are non-stop which is a big deal for me because that means just one take off and landing each way. However, on the way home the plane is pretty full and we can't all sit together and so I flipped out and then we started looking at different flights with more stops. But I simply couldn't imagine flying to from San Antonio to Chicago to get home. Or even flying from San Antonio to Dallas and then to Seattle. It's a 4 hour non-stop flight from San Antonio. But San Antonio to Dallas was an hour and then the flight to Seattle was 4 1/2 hours. That's a lot more flight time. So....I had to breathe and just remember that everything will be fine. Everything will turn out exactly as it is supposed to. We went back to the original flight and booked our seats as closely as we could get.
I have all my CDs to listen to in the SOAR program. It's time to get started! I've only got six weeks left to prepare. :o
Sunday, December 7, 2014
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Kelli's Leaving On A Jet Plane
Soooo....Here's the thing...if you know me, you know that when something big occurs in my life, I have to write about it. Most the time I'm writing out my feelings over things that have occurred in my life. If you've read any of this blog or my previous blog (http://findingmymom.blogspot.com/) , you know I have a LOT of feelings. :)
Vulnerability is a theme of mine. My blogs assist me with being vulnerable. But it's time I become VERY vulnerable and ask for your help. I have to get one on of those huge pieces of metal that fly 30,000 miles in the sky in about 7 weeks. I've been in denial about it, but it hit me last week that we were just 8 weeks away and suddenly reality kicked in.
For a time, I pretended that my fear of flying was just a small thing...but since I flew to North Carolina a couple of years ago, I have realized this is a very BIG thing. And I have begun to research this fear of flying and have learned that I am far from alone.
If you're not afraid to fly, this may all seem silly to you. Any fear that you don't have can seem silly because it simply doesn't make sense. But this fear is very, very real for me. I'm not sure I have any other fear quite like that of flying.
So I bought this book: http://www.fearofflying.com/book/ - I bought it when it first came out and even had Captain Bunn sign it. He and I had been exchanging e-mails and I find him to be an amazing man. He's a lifetime pilot and has a masters in psychology. His SOAR program is like no other and now that I've read the book, I know I'm going to actually go further into the program. I feel as though the book was written just for me and obviously it wasn't which means there are a lot of other "me"s out there with the same fear. I don't feel crazy or silly anymore.
Therefore, I'm going to take you along on this ride with me...well figuratively, not literally. Unless you're up for a trip to San Antonio in January. ;) My hope is that in being honest with this fear of mine and sharing it openly, it might help someone else with the same fear. And if you don't have this fear, maybe it will help you understand those of us who do. Or maybe it will help someone with a completely different fear of their own.
I'm doing this for me, for my husband and for my kids...all of whom would likely prefer to be on a different flight from me...but who love me anyway. ;) This isn't just about overcoming a fear, but about understanding myself more and unraveling the origins of this fear. And I know they begin in control. And I know control is an illusion. Rationally, I understand all of this. But when the fear kicks in, rationality is gone.
So, you can ignore all these blog posts if this all seems ridiculous to you. But, if you're able to join me in this journey, I'd love to have your support. I know some of you fly all the time and it's no big deal. Please don't tell me I'm being silly or remind me how safe flying is. I know all this...again...rationality doesn't come into play here. It is a B.I.G. deal to me. And just putting all this out is fairly scary. But I'm looking at this as courage. Courage to not let this fear stop me. Courage to reach out for help. Courage to speak up. As Captain Bunn says, "It is not courageous to do something which we do not fear. Courageous means being open enough and real enough and whole enough to have fear, and continue anyway."
On that note....To Be Continued...
Vulnerability is a theme of mine. My blogs assist me with being vulnerable. But it's time I become VERY vulnerable and ask for your help. I have to get one on of those huge pieces of metal that fly 30,000 miles in the sky in about 7 weeks. I've been in denial about it, but it hit me last week that we were just 8 weeks away and suddenly reality kicked in.
For a time, I pretended that my fear of flying was just a small thing...but since I flew to North Carolina a couple of years ago, I have realized this is a very BIG thing. And I have begun to research this fear of flying and have learned that I am far from alone.
If you're not afraid to fly, this may all seem silly to you. Any fear that you don't have can seem silly because it simply doesn't make sense. But this fear is very, very real for me. I'm not sure I have any other fear quite like that of flying.
So I bought this book: http://www.fearofflying.com/book/ - I bought it when it first came out and even had Captain Bunn sign it. He and I had been exchanging e-mails and I find him to be an amazing man. He's a lifetime pilot and has a masters in psychology. His SOAR program is like no other and now that I've read the book, I know I'm going to actually go further into the program. I feel as though the book was written just for me and obviously it wasn't which means there are a lot of other "me"s out there with the same fear. I don't feel crazy or silly anymore.
Therefore, I'm going to take you along on this ride with me...well figuratively, not literally. Unless you're up for a trip to San Antonio in January. ;) My hope is that in being honest with this fear of mine and sharing it openly, it might help someone else with the same fear. And if you don't have this fear, maybe it will help you understand those of us who do. Or maybe it will help someone with a completely different fear of their own.
I'm doing this for me, for my husband and for my kids...all of whom would likely prefer to be on a different flight from me...but who love me anyway. ;) This isn't just about overcoming a fear, but about understanding myself more and unraveling the origins of this fear. And I know they begin in control. And I know control is an illusion. Rationally, I understand all of this. But when the fear kicks in, rationality is gone.
So, you can ignore all these blog posts if this all seems ridiculous to you. But, if you're able to join me in this journey, I'd love to have your support. I know some of you fly all the time and it's no big deal. Please don't tell me I'm being silly or remind me how safe flying is. I know all this...again...rationality doesn't come into play here. It is a B.I.G. deal to me. And just putting all this out is fairly scary. But I'm looking at this as courage. Courage to not let this fear stop me. Courage to reach out for help. Courage to speak up. As Captain Bunn says, "It is not courageous to do something which we do not fear. Courageous means being open enough and real enough and whole enough to have fear, and continue anyway."
On that note....To Be Continued...
Friday, August 15, 2014
A Journey of a Thousand Miles Begins with a Single Step
"Success is not a place at which one arrives
But rather the spirit with which one undertakes
And continues the journey"
~ Alex Noble
And my mom was dying of cancer.
I was terrified. I wasn't sure I could do it. And then six weeks into my very first eight week term, my mom died. And I considered quitting right then. But I knew if I quit, I wouldn't go back. Somewhere I just knew that about myself. I finished that term with two 'A's and began my second term on the day of my mom's graveside service. That second term was the only term in which I ever received a B. It was a B+, but still a B. I gave myself a little grace on that, but that B was always a reminder of what I went through that term. And also, what I had survived, and what I was capable of doing. And I knew, once I completed that term, that I could do anything. Although, that doesn't mean I didn't fall down a few times along the way.
1810 Days. In addition to my mom's death, in that time, I completed 40 classes (which included more papers and discussion question responses than I could count), I bought a house and moved, I got married, I had surgery, I sat at my dad's beside in the hospital for 3 days after he had surgery alternately keeping him from pulling out his IV, and writing a paper on my laptop on the cot in the corner of the room, I attended many births, I taught a large number of childbirth classes, I taught several doula workshops and a childbirth educator workshop, I started a new business and moved into a new office and then 3 years later revamped that business and found a new (even better) office, I moved my dad to assisted living and cleaned out and sold what was once my mom's dream home.
And I got 5 years older. And my kids got 5 years older. And daily events happened...Jonathan broke his arm, our house was broken into, tires went flat, bathroom pipes burst, A tooth was pulled and a root canal was needed, appointments took place for me and my kids and my dad, my kids got sick, etc., etc., etc. LIFE never stopped because I was in school. But I kept going. One class at a time. One day at a time. One step at a time.
And I learned what I was made of, and I became stronger.
And stronger.
And stronger.
And stronger.
The motto I repeated a lot to help me get through school was the reminder that "You're going to be 45 one way or another". I wanted to be 45 with my Master's degree.
And....here I AM!
Earlier today I stood outside, barefoot, in the quiet stillness of an early morning. I grounded myself to the earth. I breathed in the cool morning air. I took it all in...all 1810 days. Days like today are monumental. They don't come along often in one's life. Today feels bigger than any birthday I've had. The sense of accomplishment I feel today is enormous. And I know, without a doubt, this moment in my life needs to be honored. I planned a day of nothingness today so I wouldn't "busy" away this day. I want to feel it. I want to live every moment of it. And tomorrow, I celebrate. I am throwing myself a party. That is not something I would have done five years ago. But "this" girl is celebrating herself. I decided that if I threw myself a party and no one came, I would celebrate on my own. As Oprah said, "The more you praise and celebrate your life, the more there is in life to celebrate." :) I have always felt strongly about following Ghandi's advice to be the change I wish to see. I haven't always been good at it though. That has been changing over the last 5 years. If I don't treat myself well, how can I expect others to do so? I think we should all celebrate ourselves. I think we should all throw ourselves parties. I think we should all stand up tall, and shout from the rooftops how awesome we are. Life is too short to pretend we don't matter. Every single one of us matters. I spend entire days spreading that message to people in various aspects of my work. But the only way to be fully genuine in that message is to believe, and practice it, myself. And so tomorrow...I'm having a party! :) And my desire is to thank those who have supported me throughout these past five years whether it was giving a "like" to a school related Facebook post or sending me a text of encouragement or quiet prayers and good thoughts that were sent my way. SO many people held me up these past 5 years. Tomorrow, in addition to celebrating my accomplishment, I celebrate all of YOU!
But today is a day of reflection. A day to look back over the last 1810 days, over the 525,600 minutes of each of the past 5 years and to feel and honor what I have accomplished. And I do that with the people who have walked every single step of this journey with me. I do that with the two boys who brought a sharp right turn in my life journey when they arrived. Jonathan will be 16(!) in a month and Christopher will be a full-fledged teenager this winter. These boys are closing in on embarking on their own life journeys. My hope is that they see that you can ALWAYS find the way to follow your dreams. No matter what has happened, or is happening, in your life and regardless of how old (or young) you are. At the same time, I know the reality is that those two boys have given me strength to do things I never thought I could do and they have taught me more about life and who I want to be than I think I could ever teach them. They are, without a doubt, my greatest inspirations.
And I celebrate with my husband. Tonight we'll pop a bottle of champagne and celebrate the end of this five year journey that we walked together. He is the person who has listened to me complain and lament over weekends spent researching and writing. He has seen my tears of frustration and my tears of joy. He has held me up when I didn't think I had the strength to push through. He was always there to remind me that I could do this even when I would get lost in the dark places that told me I could go no further. He has been the other side of numerous high-fives. He has been my biggest fan and I am beyond grateful that he has been beside me these past five years. And now it's my turn to pay him back as he will soon begin his own journey back to school. I am honored to get to be his cheerleader. :)
But for me, NOW begins another path along this life journey of mine. It's a whole new world out there. The woman who took the first step on this particular path 1810 days ago is not the same woman who has arrived at the end of the path. I am SO ready for this new path! As I stood outside this morning, it was very clear to me that there are big things on the horizon and everything is going exactly as planned. I am on the right path. And I'm ready to ride this one out and see where it takes me.
"Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming...
Wow...What a Ride!"
~ Hunter Thompson
Let the Ride Continue.....
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
My Best is Good Enough
When I started this blog, it was to share a little about Parkinson's and my experiences as a daughter of someone with the disease. It's turned in to a lot of different things along the way, but tonight, it's all about being that daughter. But even more so about being a grown woman who still feels like a little girl at times. About wanting someone to protect me, but my parents can't do that anymore. My mom is gone, and for all sense and purposes, my dad is slowly disappearing. It is a long, grueling, painful good-bye.
Today was a rough, rough day. I visited dad this morning and he was not himself. He seems to be more confused every time I see him, but today he was especially so. I don't feel comfortable getting into all the details in order to protect some of my dad's dignity, but I found myself in a situation that was incredibly uncomfortable for me and I had to call staff for help.
That's what we pay them for. I know that. But there is incredible guilt at times for me when I realize that I can't help my dad with everything. There are just some things I can't do. I could probably help anyone else with it...but not my dad. It is absolutely one of the most difficult things in life to watch a parent wither away. I watched it with my mom and it was so painful. But today I realized that cancer took my mom rather quickly...and for the most part, painlessly. But this hell that is Parkinson's...and this dementia or Alzheimer's or whatever the hell is happening to him in his brain...it's a whole new level of pain. Every day I feel like I lose another little part of my dad.
Tonight I received a call from the staff at my dad's assisted living community. Dad had become agitated and combative with his bath aide. That is not my dad. I don't think there is a person who ever met my dad who didn't enjoy him. Everyone loved my dad. Now, he is confused and angry and developing paranoia. I spent over 1/2 hour on the phone with him trying to figure out what in the world was going on with him. FINALLY, I had an A-Ha moment and was able to understand what had set him off. It was something simple. But simple things are huge to my dad. Anything that strays from the norm throws him. And I found a bit of grace with myself over the fact that it may take me a while, but I am the only person who could have figured out what happened with him tonight. I am grateful that I can be there in times like this.
Ultimately, I spent over an hour talking with him and the nursing staff to get some sort of reconciliation. And it hit me that this is just the beginning. These calls will continue to come more often. They will come in the middle of the night. Things will become harder to understand. Dad will become lost in his mind somewhere and I can't travel with him.
And I can't stop it.
I can't fix it.
I have no control.
I have to surrender.
But this is my dad. When I was 18, I had a license plate that said DDYSGRL. I was so proud of the man who was my dad. My mom and I struggled to understand one another, but my dad, he was always there. I know he didn't always understand me either, but he always listened. He tried to mediate between me and mom and I know that had to be incredibly hard for him. I always wanted to grow up to be as good of a person as my dad was. And I think I've succeeded in many ways.
But this...this is something I simply don't know how to do. It is the most incredibly painful thing to watch and to experience. Of course, I didn't know how to lose a mother to cancer either...and I did it. I will walk this path just like all the rest. I guess I'm just more aware that this path is becoming bumpier and narrow and more harrowing.
I have spent 2 1/2 years studying aging. I have spent countless hours researching Parkinson's and Alzheimer's. I understand the diseases. I can give you statistics and studies.
But none of that prepares the human heart to go through this.
But nothing could have prepared me for my mom's death. And her death opened up a new world for me. A world where I wanted to help others facing life-ending experiences of their own or with their loved ones. That would never have happened if I hadn't lost my mom. And now...I know this path I walk is one I must walk in order to help others. I know there are great and abundant lessons to be learned. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just sick and tired of lessons.
And so I sit awake...wondering what is running through my dad's mind right now. I sit awake and worry about my dad. Ahhh...how the tables have turned. I will go lie down soon and stare at the ceiling. I know worry does nothing...and yet, I still do it. Especially on nights after long days like this one.
However...writing all this helped...messaging tonight with a friend who understands, helped...laughing today with another friend who is sharing a new journey with me, helped...a hug from my 12 1/2 year old ("just cuz, mom"), helped...having my husband home from a quick trip to the east coast, helped...
Tomorrow is a new day. And I will walk it like all the rest. One foot in front of the other. One step at a time. Doing the best I can and giving myself grace, that every day, whatever my best is that day, it is always good enough.
Today was a rough, rough day. I visited dad this morning and he was not himself. He seems to be more confused every time I see him, but today he was especially so. I don't feel comfortable getting into all the details in order to protect some of my dad's dignity, but I found myself in a situation that was incredibly uncomfortable for me and I had to call staff for help.
That's what we pay them for. I know that. But there is incredible guilt at times for me when I realize that I can't help my dad with everything. There are just some things I can't do. I could probably help anyone else with it...but not my dad. It is absolutely one of the most difficult things in life to watch a parent wither away. I watched it with my mom and it was so painful. But today I realized that cancer took my mom rather quickly...and for the most part, painlessly. But this hell that is Parkinson's...and this dementia or Alzheimer's or whatever the hell is happening to him in his brain...it's a whole new level of pain. Every day I feel like I lose another little part of my dad.
Tonight I received a call from the staff at my dad's assisted living community. Dad had become agitated and combative with his bath aide. That is not my dad. I don't think there is a person who ever met my dad who didn't enjoy him. Everyone loved my dad. Now, he is confused and angry and developing paranoia. I spent over 1/2 hour on the phone with him trying to figure out what in the world was going on with him. FINALLY, I had an A-Ha moment and was able to understand what had set him off. It was something simple. But simple things are huge to my dad. Anything that strays from the norm throws him. And I found a bit of grace with myself over the fact that it may take me a while, but I am the only person who could have figured out what happened with him tonight. I am grateful that I can be there in times like this.
Ultimately, I spent over an hour talking with him and the nursing staff to get some sort of reconciliation. And it hit me that this is just the beginning. These calls will continue to come more often. They will come in the middle of the night. Things will become harder to understand. Dad will become lost in his mind somewhere and I can't travel with him.
And I can't stop it.
I can't fix it.
I have no control.
I have to surrender.
But this is my dad. When I was 18, I had a license plate that said DDYSGRL. I was so proud of the man who was my dad. My mom and I struggled to understand one another, but my dad, he was always there. I know he didn't always understand me either, but he always listened. He tried to mediate between me and mom and I know that had to be incredibly hard for him. I always wanted to grow up to be as good of a person as my dad was. And I think I've succeeded in many ways.
But this...this is something I simply don't know how to do. It is the most incredibly painful thing to watch and to experience. Of course, I didn't know how to lose a mother to cancer either...and I did it. I will walk this path just like all the rest. I guess I'm just more aware that this path is becoming bumpier and narrow and more harrowing.
I have spent 2 1/2 years studying aging. I have spent countless hours researching Parkinson's and Alzheimer's. I understand the diseases. I can give you statistics and studies.
But none of that prepares the human heart to go through this.
But nothing could have prepared me for my mom's death. And her death opened up a new world for me. A world where I wanted to help others facing life-ending experiences of their own or with their loved ones. That would never have happened if I hadn't lost my mom. And now...I know this path I walk is one I must walk in order to help others. I know there are great and abundant lessons to be learned. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just sick and tired of lessons.
And so I sit awake...wondering what is running through my dad's mind right now. I sit awake and worry about my dad. Ahhh...how the tables have turned. I will go lie down soon and stare at the ceiling. I know worry does nothing...and yet, I still do it. Especially on nights after long days like this one.
However...writing all this helped...messaging tonight with a friend who understands, helped...laughing today with another friend who is sharing a new journey with me, helped...a hug from my 12 1/2 year old ("just cuz, mom"), helped...having my husband home from a quick trip to the east coast, helped...
Tomorrow is a new day. And I will walk it like all the rest. One foot in front of the other. One step at a time. Doing the best I can and giving myself grace, that every day, whatever my best is that day, it is always good enough.
Thursday, May 22, 2014
Turn, Turn, Turn
"The journey between who you once were,
And who you are now becoming,
Is where the dance of life really takes place".
~ Barbara DeAngelis
Sixteen years ago, I was a pregnant first time mom. I was SO excited for that baby. And so excited to start my new life as a stay-at-home mom. I was 29 years old. I'd held several jobs for the 13 years prior. Some were good, some weren't great. None felt truly fulfilling. I often longed for a job where I felt as though I was making a difference and not just a number on a payroll check. Motherhood was going to make a difference in this one baby's life. That I knew. And I was ready for it. What I was not ready for, and had to way of preparing for, was the change that baby was going to make in my life.
Giving birth to that baby changed everything for me. I became someone new. Through a long empowering labor, more sleepness nights than I could count, a devastating postpartum mood disorder, diaper changes, baby tears, mama tears, more questions than answers, throughout it all...somehow...I began to find myself. The birth of that baby began an entire new period of my life. Motherhood was life altering.
If you had told me 16 years ago that I would become a birth doula and childbirth educator, I would have laughed out loud. But that's who I became. And I was (and still am) good at that work. I found a passion...a true passion...and I did work that was making a difference in the world. All because of that little baby boy. He came into my world to teach me. To open me up to things I hadn't seen before. To experience the depths of despair to find what I was made of and to rise up again. That boy chose me because he knew I needed him. And he was right.
Every step for the past almost 16 years started with his birth. Two years later I was a Birth Doula, then a Childbirth Educator, then a Postnatal Educator...then after falling into a dark hole, I climbed out with even more strength than I ever knew I had. He and his brother were my inspirations. That second little baby chose me beyond a shadow of a doubt. Dramatic happenings occurred to bring him into the world because he knew I needed him. Those boys created the fight in me. They created the mama bear. They created the woman who knew I had to be better for them. And because of them, I found the light again. The real light. The shining light of who I was at my core. And the world opened up for me.
I finished my Bachelor's Degree at 42 years old, I became a Counselor and started my Masters Degree. And then my mom became sick and died. And I survived. And I learned. And I grew. And life and death blurred. And became intertwined and connected. And I changed my Masters program and in less than 3 months, I will have a Masters Degree in Gerontology and will hold the title of Gerontologist and Geriatric Care Manager.
And today, I began the next step...I enrolled in a Death Midwifery Certification program. A Death Midwife is defined as a practitioner who is committed to offering services (information, guidance, counseling, etc.) for all facets of the pan-death process, which includes three major stages of death/dying: Before (life threatening or terminal illness), During (active dying and death) and After (final rites, burial or cremation, funeral or memorial, bereavement). And thereby provides a continuum of direct support throughout all 7 stages included within which are:
1. End-of Life Education and Preparation
2. After the Terminal Diagnosis
3. During the Active Dying Stage
4. The Transition of Death Itself
5. Immediately Post Death
6. Final Arrangements
7. Care for the Bereaved Family
Sixteen years ago, death terrified me. Shoot, 6 years ago death terrified me. And then it came and it took my mother while she was in my arms. And it was heartbreaking and powerful at the same time. And I swear death touched me, anointed me if you will, and my passion for death was born. Just as I have believed for so many years that there are many different ways to give birth and people should be allowed to choose where and how they would like to birth and that they deserve support throughout the process and through postpartum, I believe people deserve to choose where and how they die and how their body is handled post-death and that those who are dying, and those who love them, deserve support throughout the process.
And so here I am...preparing to add to my repertoire the art of Death Midwifery. It feels like a natural extension of my Birth Doula work. It is so clear to me that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. And I have to give credit where credit is due...that sweet little baby who came into my world almost 16 years ago to help me find myself. Now he's embarking on his own path to find himself and my role is to hold his space and support him if/when he needs me. He taught me this role that I have carried over into so many aspects of my life. His brother helped enhance the role. They are my teachers, among the many other who have come into my life over the years. But they were my first. They were the ones who taught me the dance moves in this dance of life.
And so the dance continues...
Friday, May 9, 2014
Mother's Day
This will be my 5th Mother's Day without my mom.
This was my 1st: http://findingmymom.blogspot.com/2010_05_01_archive.html
That one was rough.
So was year two...and year three.
As soon as the Mother's Day cards would show up in the stores, I'd start getting sad. And mad. And annoyed.
At the same time, by year two, I remembered how hard it always was to find the "right" card for my mom with whom I had an often tumultuous relationship. I began to watch people reading Mother's Day cards and found it fascinating. Pick up a card, put it back, over and over and over. I wasn't the only one with a difficult relationship with my mom. Been there...done that...didn't miss it.
But I missed having a mom.
Cut to my 5th Mother's Day without a mom...and the day is certainly still a trigger. But time does heal. Well...time and a lot of therapy. ;)
I am much more capable of enjoying Mother's Day as a mother. I am able to handle Facebook posts...for the most part...I know when it's too much and when I am triggered.
Over the past few months I have copied and pasted my entire blog from when my mom was sick (see above link) into a word document. My intent is to bind it somehow...potentially make a book out of it...for me to have and keep. It was powerful to read through each and every post and to remember where I was back then...and how far I've come. It's still painful, but my mom's death was life changing for me. As the death of a mom should be. I've learned so much about myself. I am incredibly stronger. I am proud of who I am today. There was a time in my life when I couldn't imagine the world without my mom. Now, I've managed 4 and 1/2 rotations around the sun without her. And the world is still a beautiful place.
I won't lie...there have been experiences in my life that I desperately wished I could share with my mom. My Bachelor's Degree being a big one. I know how proud she would have been. I will have my Master's Degree in 4 months. I will miss not sharing this with my mom. There are a lot of things I want to call and talk to her about. At the same time, I have also had experiences when I thought, "Gosh, I'm so glad I don't have to talk to mom about this". She and I had different ideas about things. Choices I made were not always ones she approved of...and I spent most of my life trying to get her approval. I don't have to do that anymore. My choices are mine. My life is mine. And that's pretty damn freeing.
Along those lines, because of those experiences with my mom, I am determined that my children will know I love and support them ALWAYS...through any decision they choose to make...whether it is one that I agree with or not. Their lives are not mine to live. They get to make their own choices and I will always, always, always love them. Period. I hope they never stay awake at night worrying about my reaction to a decision in their life. I don't know...maybe everyone does that...but I want my kids to know that I will always support them. I will always be their safety net. Always. No judgement. It is not my place to judge. It is my place to love and support them.
My mom loved me. But she took a lot of my decisions and wondered how they reflected on her. And they simply didn't. But I understand how easy it is to carry those feelings as a mother and I give her grace for that.
But the reality is...I don't have to make her proud of me anymore. And I will never disappoint her again. And that's big in my life. What a difference 4 and 1/2 years makes.
On the 4th anniversary of her death last October, I walked upstairs to find both the touch lamps on in the master bedroom. Olly and I rarely touch those things. And I had never seen them both on before. There had been no weird weather activity or a low lying plane to cause any shaking in the house. Yet, there they were...both on, shining bright. And instantly, I just had this sense that it was mom. And that she was saying good-bye. She was affirming that I was okay without her now. It was an incredibly strong feeling. And since that day, I haven't felt her around. I don't sense that she is nearby as I had before. And, although I missed that feeling at the beginning, it quickly felt as though I was lighter. Mom knew I was okay without her. And she was able to finally be free. I believe she knew that I understood her better. I understood her demons and her struggles and she knew that we simply understood each other better after her death than we did during her life.
And so here we are on the 1st Mother's Day since that day. And yes...it's a trigger. And yes, there will likely always be the feeling that something is missing. But this Mother's Day is different. There is so much more peace. This year I can enjoy my boys and enjoy just being their mom. And I can honor my mom for giving me life. For doing her best. For not being perfect. And for lighting the path on so many lessons I needed to learn.
I found this article and enjoyed the 10 ideas to keep a memory alive. Mother's Day Without Your Mother I have my own ways...I donate to hospice every year. I like the idea of an act of kindness. My mom was an incredibly giving person and yet, never felt like she deserved the same kindness. We all deserve kindness. My mom deserved a lot more than she got.
So, here I sit on the eve of my 5th Mother's Day weekend without my mom. And gratefully, these past years have held so much growth. I have learned so much about myself and my mom. I have become stronger than I ever could have imagined I could be. I still have a lot of work to do, but the fact that I've come this far in 4 & 1/2 years is important and powerful.
Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there. If you are someone without a mom this year, or if you have a mom with whom you have a difficult relationship, or you have an absent mother, honor wherever you are in that process and know you are not alone. Without our mothers none of us would be here. I am of the belief that we all pick our mothers because they are the one to best be able to teach us the life lessons we need to learn. I know my mom did that for me, although it took me many, many years to understand the lessons.
On Sunday, my 12 year old and I will make his special macaroni and cheese together. And I will laugh. And I will enjoy this time with my children. And I will send up a little shout out to my mom for giving me this life and this opportunity to become a mother myself and to be blessed with the amazing gift of my two children.
I wish you all an opportunity to find laughter and joy this Mother's Day.
This was my 1st: http://findingmymom.blogspot.com/2010_05_01_archive.html
That one was rough.
So was year two...and year three.
As soon as the Mother's Day cards would show up in the stores, I'd start getting sad. And mad. And annoyed.
At the same time, by year two, I remembered how hard it always was to find the "right" card for my mom with whom I had an often tumultuous relationship. I began to watch people reading Mother's Day cards and found it fascinating. Pick up a card, put it back, over and over and over. I wasn't the only one with a difficult relationship with my mom. Been there...done that...didn't miss it.
But I missed having a mom.
Cut to my 5th Mother's Day without a mom...and the day is certainly still a trigger. But time does heal. Well...time and a lot of therapy. ;)
I am much more capable of enjoying Mother's Day as a mother. I am able to handle Facebook posts...for the most part...I know when it's too much and when I am triggered.
Over the past few months I have copied and pasted my entire blog from when my mom was sick (see above link) into a word document. My intent is to bind it somehow...potentially make a book out of it...for me to have and keep. It was powerful to read through each and every post and to remember where I was back then...and how far I've come. It's still painful, but my mom's death was life changing for me. As the death of a mom should be. I've learned so much about myself. I am incredibly stronger. I am proud of who I am today. There was a time in my life when I couldn't imagine the world without my mom. Now, I've managed 4 and 1/2 rotations around the sun without her. And the world is still a beautiful place.
I won't lie...there have been experiences in my life that I desperately wished I could share with my mom. My Bachelor's Degree being a big one. I know how proud she would have been. I will have my Master's Degree in 4 months. I will miss not sharing this with my mom. There are a lot of things I want to call and talk to her about. At the same time, I have also had experiences when I thought, "Gosh, I'm so glad I don't have to talk to mom about this". She and I had different ideas about things. Choices I made were not always ones she approved of...and I spent most of my life trying to get her approval. I don't have to do that anymore. My choices are mine. My life is mine. And that's pretty damn freeing.
Along those lines, because of those experiences with my mom, I am determined that my children will know I love and support them ALWAYS...through any decision they choose to make...whether it is one that I agree with or not. Their lives are not mine to live. They get to make their own choices and I will always, always, always love them. Period. I hope they never stay awake at night worrying about my reaction to a decision in their life. I don't know...maybe everyone does that...but I want my kids to know that I will always support them. I will always be their safety net. Always. No judgement. It is not my place to judge. It is my place to love and support them.
My mom loved me. But she took a lot of my decisions and wondered how they reflected on her. And they simply didn't. But I understand how easy it is to carry those feelings as a mother and I give her grace for that.
But the reality is...I don't have to make her proud of me anymore. And I will never disappoint her again. And that's big in my life. What a difference 4 and 1/2 years makes.
On the 4th anniversary of her death last October, I walked upstairs to find both the touch lamps on in the master bedroom. Olly and I rarely touch those things. And I had never seen them both on before. There had been no weird weather activity or a low lying plane to cause any shaking in the house. Yet, there they were...both on, shining bright. And instantly, I just had this sense that it was mom. And that she was saying good-bye. She was affirming that I was okay without her now. It was an incredibly strong feeling. And since that day, I haven't felt her around. I don't sense that she is nearby as I had before. And, although I missed that feeling at the beginning, it quickly felt as though I was lighter. Mom knew I was okay without her. And she was able to finally be free. I believe she knew that I understood her better. I understood her demons and her struggles and she knew that we simply understood each other better after her death than we did during her life.
And so here we are on the 1st Mother's Day since that day. And yes...it's a trigger. And yes, there will likely always be the feeling that something is missing. But this Mother's Day is different. There is so much more peace. This year I can enjoy my boys and enjoy just being their mom. And I can honor my mom for giving me life. For doing her best. For not being perfect. And for lighting the path on so many lessons I needed to learn.
I found this article and enjoyed the 10 ideas to keep a memory alive. Mother's Day Without Your Mother I have my own ways...I donate to hospice every year. I like the idea of an act of kindness. My mom was an incredibly giving person and yet, never felt like she deserved the same kindness. We all deserve kindness. My mom deserved a lot more than she got.
So, here I sit on the eve of my 5th Mother's Day weekend without my mom. And gratefully, these past years have held so much growth. I have learned so much about myself and my mom. I have become stronger than I ever could have imagined I could be. I still have a lot of work to do, but the fact that I've come this far in 4 & 1/2 years is important and powerful.
Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there. If you are someone without a mom this year, or if you have a mom with whom you have a difficult relationship, or you have an absent mother, honor wherever you are in that process and know you are not alone. Without our mothers none of us would be here. I am of the belief that we all pick our mothers because they are the one to best be able to teach us the life lessons we need to learn. I know my mom did that for me, although it took me many, many years to understand the lessons.
On Sunday, my 12 year old and I will make his special macaroni and cheese together. And I will laugh. And I will enjoy this time with my children. And I will send up a little shout out to my mom for giving me this life and this opportunity to become a mother myself and to be blessed with the amazing gift of my two children.
I wish you all an opportunity to find laughter and joy this Mother's Day.
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
It's All About The Lessons
~ Be warned. This post may be a little "woo-woo" for some of you. I realize to some, a toothache is just a toothache, but I am a firm believer in the mind-body connection. Take it all for what it's worth. It's just my own personal experience that I need to get out of my head. ~
Yep. All of it.
It's all about the lessons.
The past few weeks have held a strong learning curve for me. I have had a section of teeth that have been giving me problems for about 2 years now. I had a tooth crowned that I knew I was going to revisit because of how much it hurt to put on the permanent crown and how much they had to numb me to work on it. But for a while, it sat dormant with just an occasional twinge.
Then last April, I found myself in quite a bit of pain. I went to the dentist, they referred me to an Endodontist and then the pain went away and I applauded myself for my ability to heal myself through the power of my incredible mind. ;) Truth is, I know that the upper right section of teeth is linked both to outwardly expressing yourself in the world and to issues with your father. It made sense that they were bothering me last April when I was in the process of moving my dad. So, I acknowledged the stress I was under and the work I was doing and TA-DA, I "fixed" my teeth! I.AM.AWESOME!
Oh, how the universe must have laughed at that. See, #4 above...A Lesson is Repeated Until It is Learned. There was more learning to be done here.
Cut to a couple of months ago when that area started bugging me again. Darn. But I thought, "Okay...just have to work through my stuff again and heal it". And let me tell you...I tried. I worked and worked and worked and worked and worked. And the pain just increased. I found myself in my dentist's chair unable to stop the tears from rolling down my face. I was desperate. The pain was breaking me. I came out with another Endodontist referral and I STILL thought I could figure this out on my own. I even went through a full energetic healing course for an entire weekend (not to heal my tooth, but thought I would probably figure it out along the way) and still came out hurting. What the hell? What was I doing wrong? I know how to do this stuff. I am mighty and powerful. Or wait...how come I feel so small and scared? What was I missing here? Where was my voice? Instead of feeling strong, I began to feel weaker and weaker and smaller and confused and scared and felt like I lost my voice entirely. What in the hell was happening? Why couldn't I figure this out? The more I tried, the more frustrated I became as the pain increased.
And then I was given a gift. The gift that said, "Maybe the lesson here is in surrendering...not fighting". SURRENDER. There it was again. The word that haunts me and insists I listen.
"When we try to control, we become controlled; when we release, we become free." ~ Bryant McGill
And so I called the Endodontist on April 1st. Only to find out he was leaving on vacation the following week and they didn't have any room for me until he got back. Okay, that's fine, I thought. I can tough it out until then and it gives me another two weeks to figure it all out myself. Yeah...that's perfect. I made the appointment, but still have time to figure it out myself. I'll probably cancel the appointment.
And then the universe laughed some more.
And the pain increased. And increased. And increased. And this past weekend, I finally was broken. I was raw and vulnerable and thought I was losing my mind. I couldn't think about anything but the pain. I worked all day Saturday, but I'm not sure how. I was in a fog of pain. And I was SO mad. April is a month of celebrating in my family. My wedding anniversary is the 10th, Olly's birthday is the 20th. My birthday is the 30th. We have a weekend away planned at the end of the month. WHY now? WHY? Oh how the self-pity set in. And the self-defeating thoughts. I felt small and weak and alone and simply a broken shell of myself.
And then I heard a message that came down loud and clear. Why are you suffering?
Good lord, why was I suffering? And the floodgates opened...because I am a caregiver, not a taker. My role in life is to help others find peace. Everyone else must come first. Don't take care of yourself. Take care of others. And the repeated message that I have been getting my entire life...you are not worthy...of love, of care, of peace, of anything. It was a volcano of erupting old stories. And then the lessons...How can you help anyone find peace if you don't allow it in to your own life? How can you love others if you don't love yourself? You cannot continue to give if you never receive. Well, I know all of that, but I have to take care of my dad and my family and my clients and my classes and blah, blah, blah, blah....How does your tooth feel?
And I told my brain to shut the hell up. I was not going to think my way through this anymore. I was going to feel. And my brain told me that we don't like to feel. And I told it to shut up. And I surrendered. Inside a dark, black, cold, isolated, painful space, I surrendered.
Yesterday morning, I called another Endodontist. They got me in immediately. I went through a couple of painful tests to identify the tooth and the tears flowed in yet another dentist chair. I told the dental assistant to numb me a lot. I didn't want to feel anything. Four injections later, I was out of pain for the first time in a LONG time. The epinephrine in the injections made me super shaky, but I didn't care. Bring it on. My brain came in and said "your heart is racing" and I told it to shut up. I surrendered. I didn't need those messages anymore. And then the tooth was opened up and the dentist exclaimed, "Wow...your tooth is MAD" and he had to take a picture of what he saw. And when I saw it, I audibly gasped, put my hands over my mouth and started to cry. That tooth held so much suffering. It took so much for me. It took all my lessons that I didn't want to learn and it held them until the volcano of lessons needed a way to explode and that hole drilled into the tooth allowed them out.
I am not ignoring the fact that the section of my mouth tied in to outward expression of my place in the world now has 3 root canals. I am not ignoring the fact that I am numbing that part of my mouth. I know that the lesson will find another way to come out if I think I can numb it. I take that very, very seriously. And now, I can actually work on the lesson...without the pain. And the first lesson I had to learn AGAIN was to surrender.
Medical technology exists for a reason. I may not believe in a lot of it. But a lot of people don't believe what I believe in either. And both beliefs are fine. But there are truths to both beliefs. And yesterday, medical technology came to my rescue to relieve me of pain and allow me to move forward and learn my lessons inside a whole body instead of one that was withering away in pain.
I ache today. A root canal is not a simple procedure. It's an invasion. But for me, it was also a release and I fully feel healing taking place. Healing of my tooth, but healing of my heart too. I learned the lesson of surrender. I learned that I must take care of myself in order to take care of others. I learned that I am worthy of that care. Those lessons may come around again. In fact, I am pretty sure they will. But each time I learn them, the next time around is a little quicker. And ideally, the lessons come with much less pain. That is the goal. #9 - The Answers Lie Inside You.
On a side note...my office looked pretty slow this month. I was a bit worried about that even though I always know there is an ebb and flow to a counseling practice. But I realize now, I needed the slow time to allow myself the ability to have time to get the help I needed. Suddenly, once the surrender took place, I have been getting a new inquiry every few days, clients are reaching out for appointment times, and my calendar is filling up again. The universe is no longer laughing at me, but smiling along with me as I move forward out of that terribly difficult stuck place I was in.
And so now it is time to heal. Time to smile. Time to re-immerse myself in the month of celebrations. Time to enjoy. Time to live in the now and not in the stories of the past.
"When you surrender to what is and so become fully present, the past ceases to have any power. You do not need it anymore. Presence is the key. Now is the key". ~ Eckhart Tolle
Here's to Now. :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)