Tag: mom

68

Published on by lacylynnetteLeave a comment

On the 24th, she turned 68 and it came and went quietly. Every year comes with the question– will this one be the last? It’s been about 10 years now since it became so absolutely apparent that something was wrong, and for women diagnosed with dementia around the age of 60, the average lifespan is an additional 8.9 years.

I so often wonder what she would think if she could see me today. I have no real good reason for it given our past and the damage done but that doesn’t matter. I will always wonder what she would think. It comes up most on the typical days– her birthday and Mother’s Day. On Mother’s Day I do have a new focus on how does my son see me? It’s a nice shift but that old question is still burried somewhere underneath.

For years, everyone told me I looked like her and for some time, I hated it. I now embrace it and share it with others. I do carry her in some small way with me, always. In that way, she is still here and always will be.

“I am tied by truth like an anchor
Anchored to a bottomless sea
I am floating freely in the heavens
Held in by your heart’s gravity

All because of love
All because of love
Even though sometimes you don’t know who I am

I am you, everything you do
Anything you say, you want me to be
You and me are charms on a chain
Linked eternally in what we can’t undo
And I am you”

The less I understand her..

Published on by lacylynnetteLeave a comment
One of my favorite things about mornings is packing his lunch for the day.

The more time that I give to my son, the less I understand her. I just saw a video on this topic but in the opposite breadth– understanding a mother’s love as you yourself become one. My mom was so often annoyed by hugs, wouldn’t keep me home with her even on the one occasion that I cried for it (she was stay at home but we went to the babysitter every day while my dad worked), and used being her daughter- or rather not getting to be her daughter– as a form of punishment. It’s kind of crazy to think about now, as I continue this dive into what it is now to be a mother to my own son. I’m actually blown away by how quicky those memories and normalcies for me at that time all feel so foreign and unbelievable now. There is no stronger, no bigger, no more beautiful a love and I am embracing it with everything I have until that inevitable day when I am no longer the coolest and bestest in his world. He will always be in mine.

The Box: Day 1

Published on by lacylynnetteLeave a comment

Now I remember why– when I acquired three boxes of my mom’s “important papers” from her old storage unit in 2017– I went fully through one of them and pushed the others aside, mentally exhausted and telling myself that I would tackle them in the future. I never did. I have skimmed just the top of this one box and already, I find myself wondering if I should put it away again or burn it in some sort of ceremonial letting go bonfire. In the hope of finding just one thing of potential importance, I suppose I will attempt to keep going, at least for now.

Day 1 Discoveries:

I made the honor roll in my final year of high school complete with letter from Pat Murphy, who was the Iowa House of Representatives minority leader at the time.

My mom created and saved “demerits” that she gave out to my brothers and I for various grievances. There were 9 demerits total between my brothers for things such as being “disrespectful,” didn’t do as what told,” and my personal favorite given to my little brother– “throwing demerits at me.” There was just 1 demerit for me which entailed my having made a terrible salad because I “was very lazy and didn’t care how I made it.”

My mom very briefly kept a prayer journal in 1995 in which she details what she feels is my older brother’s stepping away from a relationship with God after which she then writes of me positively. “Cub is really blossoming into a very nice girl. I am getting closer to her more and more every day.” I would have been 8 years old during this entry and I don’t feel like a child she birthed reading it.

The hardest thing to find and read was a letter my little brother wrote to her. I have no idea when he wrote it but it is clearly from when we all still lived under the same roof. He tells her of how depressed he is feeling and at one point writes “I love you and I need you to love me.”

Day 1 Conclusion:

Do I continue this journey? What am I getting out of this? These are just a couple of thoughts I find myself having. It feels early to push this one away, this may just take me longer than I anticipated.