I know I haven’t been very consistent here on the old blog recently…. and I apologize for that. But I’ll be honest. February is a tough month for me. The last few weeks have been downright hard. Most days getting out of bed was a monumental achievement.
Nine years ago on February 27, 2004 I lost my Dad. One year ago President’s Day weekend my Mom went into the hospital for the first time and my life began to unravel… again.
I sometimes feel guilty that I hit rock bottom like this because obviously I’m not the only one in the world to have lost both their parents. In fact, I’m very fortunate that I had them for as long as I did as I’m certain there are others that are not so lucky. But right now there’s no reasoning with myself. I’m simply sad. I’m simply angry. I’m simply lost.
I still long to hug my Dad. I still desperately long to talk to my Mom because she was always my biggest cheerleader. With her missing, my drive, my motivation, my determination… it’s all buried with her. I’m trying to dig it up, to reach down and pull up all these traits I learned from her and put them back to use… because I know that’s what she would want. But frankly, I don’t care what she wants. I don’t care what anyone wants.
There have been some nights I have found her wandering through my dreams and I wake up and feel like I’m re-living a nightmare as I slowly remember that she is actually gone. No more birthday dinners. No more Red Robin Patty Melts. No more trips to Sturbridge. No more Wednesday “I’m alive” calls.
It’s hard. And I’m learning. Thank goodness she was strong-willed and detrmined because I learned those traits, too. And even though I want to hide in my bed (and sometimes I do), I know I have to get up. I have to keep going. And I will. Because I am her legacy.