Remembering 2010



In her mid 50s. Gorgeous



I remember where I was two years ago, and how uncertain I was if I could survive the holidays without an emotional breakdown.  It is for that reason that I appreciate the joy I have now.  I remember all too well, waking up every morning and not wanting to get out of bed and literally having dialogues with my reflection in the mirror--trying to pep myself up to act through the motions of life. Too much happened in that year---they say it comes in threes, and in that year, I got hit three times.  My mother passed away in March; Blackie died in my arms in August, and my 13-year relationship ended in October. I managed to survive, but sometimes, the devastating loss hits you at moments when you least expect it.  I could be driving in traffic. I could be eating at a restaurant.  I could be watching a movie. I could be shopping, and BOOM--in the hustle of that activity, I will cry uncontrollably as if the wound is new and fresh. 

My mom wasn’t perfect. In fact, she could be very difficult to deal to deal with. She was opinionated, always right and always knew better, outspoken, demanding, and controlling, but she was also so giving, kind, smart, strong...There is no one I have ever met who was as giving as my mom. She gave everything away.  Because of her values, guidance, discipline, relentless pushing, all three of us (my brother, sister, and I) are college graduates.  She was irrefutably the strongest woman I have ever known, and her strength gives me faith that no matter what trauma life brings my way, I CAN handle anything.  I believe that if I have an ounce of her in me, there is nothing I can’t overcome.  Many have commented on how alike we are, and as a child, I loathed the comparison, but as an adult, I feel blessed to be like her.  My life is not perfect, but I am happy.  However, when I do have moments of defeat, I find myself often talking to her.  I can still feel her around me…..watching me.  I feel safer even though she is no longer here. 

The pain, however,  is always there--I feel hurt that my kids will not remember much, if anything about her.  I fear that she will eventually just be a face in a photograph and a character in a story told by me.  The personal, intimate connection will be lost.  I see other kids doing things with their grandma, and I get angry that my kids were cheated out of that experience with their grandma. The unfairness seems unbearable at times.

I have to remind myself though of how blessed I am because she was my mother, and oh how proud I am to be her daughter.





with braids...inspired by the novel and film, The Lover

I lost Blackie in August, and those who have ever known the unconditional love of a dog can understand how it feels to lose a pet, but it was even harder because Blackie was so much more to me. Blackie was by my side through so much…for almost 16 years, she was my best friend. I had her from 5 weeks until almost 16 years old.  I fed her with a bottle. She was my child.  When I felt the world turn against me, I had my Blackie.  It was the hardest thing I had to do when I decided to put her to sleep. I held her in my arms and saw her breathe her last breath with my eyes completely clouded and blinded with tears.  I still find it difficult to talk about Blackie without choking up.

I dont think I will truly ever get over the devastation of that year.  I survived it with support from so many friends.  In times of great pain and sorrow is when we often see the most beauty and love in the world.  Friends, co-workers were a pivotal blessing that year, but honestly, I survived that year because of three angels that were brought to me by God: Dylan, Brandon, and Mia.  I realized then that those kids give more and do more for me than I could ever do for them.

I had a mental breakdown one night in December; Dylan whispered to me, "Mommy--go look in your stocking."  I was so upset, but I did what he said, and in my stocking was a white envelope with a 5 dollar bill in it.  There was such symbolic and emotional significance in this gesture because it was the first time in years that my stocking had something in it.  My stocking always hung up empty.  I dont know when he put it in there and how he saved up his money---but my heart was lifted.

In November, it was the first birthday I shared without my mother or Blackie, and I had a difficult time trying to feign some excitment and happiness with cake, candles, and gifts.  I just wanted to cry.  Brandon saw me struggle to keep my emotional composure when I was a nudge away from losing control.  Yvette, my sister, was trying to help and asked if the kids could sleep over.  I guess she wanted to give me a stress free night without kids.  Dylan and Mia stayed with Yvette, but Brandon did not.  He came home to be with me, and away from the family gathering, I cried.  It was 5 year old Brandon who consoled me...who wiped my tears, and who held me until I felt better. He was so intuitive at age 5; he chose to stay and comfort his mother than play with his cousins at a sleep-over.

I will NEVER forget what my boys did for me, and to this day, the $5 bill is in a frame.  It reminds me of how special my children are and how blessed...truly blessed I am to be their mother. 

Sometimes, it really seems they take care of me more than I take care of them.

Photos from Christmas 2010 (You can't tell from these photos, but I was in a very depressed state.)---this was the first Christmas without them---It was me "acting" through the emotions of a happy holiday...

I love my mom.  I love Blackie.  Always.  I have an eternal hole in my heart that will always ache.  It is something I have to live with. Fortunately, I also have three truly AMAZING kids who just make that ache a little less painful.