Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Just because
I just had a really nice conversation with my mom.
I've been feeling so horrible lately. My body is aching, and I'm sniffling. I've been sick for a week now. I couldn't even go home for Thanksgiving, which was what I'd been looking forward to more than most things lately.
I wanted to go home for Thanksgiving, because time with my family is very special to me right now. My family has always meant a lot to me. My mom and grandma, my sisters, and more recently my dad, have been my heroes. They have been the strength I've drawn on; they have been examples for me, and inspire me more than I can describe about how to handle the trials that life gives you, how to heal from so much pain the world can deploy, expose, and dig up from your soul.
I bought this card not too long ago. There's a picture of a dove on it flying high in the top left corner, flying high in an atmospheric sky over the world, and it reads:
When
it seems everything
is falling down
around us,
something strong and certain
within us
is preparing
to spread
its wings
and
soar.
I've seen you meet challenge and setback
with wings of your spirit outspread,
Transforming your pain
into power,
courageously moving ahead ...
So as you continue your journey,
remember what I know is true --
You'll once again rise on the wings of your soul
more graceful, more joyful,
more You.
I never gave the card to anyone. I carry it around sometimes, blank, no address, no signature. I first lost it in a bag, then in a stack of papers, then I found it again.
I always say I hate greeting cards. Once, I had this long, drawn-out conversation with an ex-boyfriend of mine. We were just talking shit about cards, and how cliche they are, and how they just seem to represent mass-marketed holidays. He downed them from a graphic designer's perspective, and I did from a writer's. We both thought we were too clever for them. Maybe we still do.
But this one day, not long ago, my mom had surgery, and some days later I found myself pacing around Kroger in this trance-like teary state, reading cards.
I wanted to find something for my grandmother. I wanted to thank her so much for being so strong and for being there for me and everyone. We had long talks at the hospital.
Then when I reread it and was going to send it to her, I decided it was all wrong. I thought I should really give it to my mother.
But then that didn't really seem right, either; and all the sudden it became clear to me that I needed those words, cliche or not, more than anyone.
I kept the card. I don't know whom I'll give it to, if anyone, or if it's dated. Right now, it's mine.
Sometimes I feel so broken.
I've been broken so many times. Broken-hearted. Spirit-broken. Head too broken for words -- that's how I've felt much of the time. Especially lately.
When my mother was diagnosed with cancer I can't even tell you the day. All I know is that it happened. And I know it has been more than enough to change my perspective on so many things.
Through my mother's illness, I have learned so much in a short time. Shit. Just over a year ago I had my horrible accident. I thought I lost so much. I had no idea how much there is still to lose.
But unlike before, I'm not going to shrivel down and talk about what happened, and forget about so many things that are important, like people, and goals, and love, and experience.
I've still made mistakes. Lots of mistakes. I'm still broken and confused, and sometimes self-loathing.
But I can't be anything but strong. I can't do anything but work hard. My old crutches, the alcohol and everything else is all tapped out.
So this is what it's like to be a grown up. To be pushing thirty, to wake up and realize you've been going to college for like 10 years. To still not have health insurance and be staring down into the future, no longer taking your parents' concern and advice with a grain of salt. I've got to take better care of myself. I want to do so much more. I want to do it for my mom and for my dad and for my sisters and for me.
I asked my mom today if I disappointed her. She said no, and recounted some times when she also found out she could still make mistakes and disappointed herself.
But things are looking up. Because I know my mom will get better. I know she will get better and I know I will get better. Because that's just what we do.
I just had a really nice conversation with my mom.
I've been feeling so horrible lately. My body is aching, and I'm sniffling. I've been sick for a week now. I couldn't even go home for Thanksgiving, which was what I'd been looking forward to more than most things lately.
I wanted to go home for Thanksgiving, because time with my family is very special to me right now. My family has always meant a lot to me. My mom and grandma, my sisters, and more recently my dad, have been my heroes. They have been the strength I've drawn on; they have been examples for me, and inspire me more than I can describe about how to handle the trials that life gives you, how to heal from so much pain the world can deploy, expose, and dig up from your soul.
I bought this card not too long ago. There's a picture of a dove on it flying high in the top left corner, flying high in an atmospheric sky over the world, and it reads:
When
it seems everything
is falling down
around us,
something strong and certain
within us
is preparing
to spread
its wings
and
soar.
I've seen you meet challenge and setback
with wings of your spirit outspread,
Transforming your pain
into power,
courageously moving ahead ...
So as you continue your journey,
remember what I know is true --
You'll once again rise on the wings of your soul
more graceful, more joyful,
more You.
I never gave the card to anyone. I carry it around sometimes, blank, no address, no signature. I first lost it in a bag, then in a stack of papers, then I found it again.
I always say I hate greeting cards. Once, I had this long, drawn-out conversation with an ex-boyfriend of mine. We were just talking shit about cards, and how cliche they are, and how they just seem to represent mass-marketed holidays. He downed them from a graphic designer's perspective, and I did from a writer's. We both thought we were too clever for them. Maybe we still do.
But this one day, not long ago, my mom had surgery, and some days later I found myself pacing around Kroger in this trance-like teary state, reading cards.
I wanted to find something for my grandmother. I wanted to thank her so much for being so strong and for being there for me and everyone. We had long talks at the hospital.
Then when I reread it and was going to send it to her, I decided it was all wrong. I thought I should really give it to my mother.
But then that didn't really seem right, either; and all the sudden it became clear to me that I needed those words, cliche or not, more than anyone.
I kept the card. I don't know whom I'll give it to, if anyone, or if it's dated. Right now, it's mine.
Sometimes I feel so broken.
I've been broken so many times. Broken-hearted. Spirit-broken. Head too broken for words -- that's how I've felt much of the time. Especially lately.
When my mother was diagnosed with cancer I can't even tell you the day. All I know is that it happened. And I know it has been more than enough to change my perspective on so many things.
Through my mother's illness, I have learned so much in a short time. Shit. Just over a year ago I had my horrible accident. I thought I lost so much. I had no idea how much there is still to lose.
But unlike before, I'm not going to shrivel down and talk about what happened, and forget about so many things that are important, like people, and goals, and love, and experience.
I've still made mistakes. Lots of mistakes. I'm still broken and confused, and sometimes self-loathing.
But I can't be anything but strong. I can't do anything but work hard. My old crutches, the alcohol and everything else is all tapped out.
So this is what it's like to be a grown up. To be pushing thirty, to wake up and realize you've been going to college for like 10 years. To still not have health insurance and be staring down into the future, no longer taking your parents' concern and advice with a grain of salt. I've got to take better care of myself. I want to do so much more. I want to do it for my mom and for my dad and for my sisters and for me.
I asked my mom today if I disappointed her. She said no, and recounted some times when she also found out she could still make mistakes and disappointed herself.
But things are looking up. Because I know my mom will get better. I know she will get better and I know I will get better. Because that's just what we do.
Labels: Cancer, Mistakes, Thanksgiving
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