Dear Mom (Nov 27/17)

Mon, Nov 27/17

Dear Mom,

Well, all I really have to say is that "normal" is highly overrated. This past week was most likely my official return to the life I had before the past year unfolded. It's back to the drawing board for me.

I cannot believe how much my thoughts continue to revolve around you. Perhaps that is because my "before" picture consisted of a world where you were my primary focus. I was warned not to let that happen. But it did. And it was right.

This weekend, I was so thrilled to know I had two fully uncommitted days at home. All I had to do was donate blood. You have no idea how much I wanted to cancel that appointment. But I had already done that two times and I knew I had to go and do it. It would be okay.

And it was.

I ran one errand after another so I could go home and hibernate for the remainder of the weekend. But that never did happen.

One thing led to the next and I was barely home the past two days. I wish I could say it was great. But it wasn't. I simply wanted to be home. And stay there.

But it wasn't in the cards.

I have ended up with yet another bad haircut which has been compounded by a second cut that is not exactly what I had in mind. The hair stylist asked me a simple question which resulted in my eyes tearing up and overflowing. She was washing my hair at the time so gravity resulted in tears running into my ears. Kindness is hard to bare.

I ended up spending yesterday in the hospital. Elaine broke her hip on Saturday and she was more concerned about her family than she was for herself. So I was "just showed up" so she knew they weren't alone. I felt like my presence was unnecessary but I stayed until I knew things were okay.

All is well for now. But I know how precarious that state can be. So I sit still with that knowledge and trust everything will unfold in a way Elaine's family can bear. Nothing is easy when it comes to realizing your parent is a mere mortal. I've been there and done that. I'm grateful for the process that prepared me for our new reality.

Nothing feels easy or natural or like I am "exactly where I am meant to be" right now. The only place that feels right, is when I am home. Your home or mine feels equally soothing to my soul.

Speaking of your home, Trev took care of business this weekend. Your garage and shed are cleaned out and the house is ready to adopt a new family. The house is ready. We are ready. Would you be ready? I like to think so ...

No one ever feels like they are ready for anything. But as time passes and life moves on, the readiness comes.

This has been a process. Life goes on. I know it. I live it. But I really don't want anyone to verbally remind me of it.

I will just keep living the process of going on. It's mostly okay. But I've lost my purpose and I'm feeling like I'm back where I was just before you broke your wrist. I saw your vulnerability and I stepped in where I could. I believe the key is in "doing for others" ...

I have a few surrogate mothers in my life. But it isn't the same. It isn't even close. I'm starting to feel some of your thoughts about the aging process. I know I need to surround myself in youth, vitality and "living". I knew this before but my life was redirected and I never did get around to finding that youthful vitality.

I must live and breathe the essence of trusting I am exactly where I am meant to be. I must trust the process. Even when that place feels icky and uncomfortable.

 I am lucky enough to have most today at my disposal. I think I'll pull out a few Christmas lights. I need light and Christmas may provide that for me.

"Let there be light" ... and there was light. I will look toward the light and there will be peace.

Wishing you peace calms my heart and soul. So that is exactly where I will leave this week's letter.

Love,

Colleen