Another Auld Lang Spinster?

I sat down last night with the intention of NOT waiting until the last day of the month to complete my December post. But then I got all introspective and down and sad and decided that it would have to wait until today after all. You're welcome.

I'm not feeling absolutely perky today or anything, however, because this time of year is (as it's so often said) difficult for those of us who have lost someone or who aren't in a special relationship; put the two together and it can be downright miserable. I'm not miserable, but neither am I brimming with that New Year joy that we all try so hard to achieve. I am simply turning the page on another calendar, just like the year before it, and pretty much the years before that.

I have managed to find happiness here and there in the last year, the first full year since my mom died, but it isn't at my disposal every day and I don't expect it to be. I'm just glad to know I've made and continue to make progress and I know it will get easier, at least in some respects. Sometimes, though, the days just stretch out in an endless progression of hours, minutes  and seconds that don't really seem to change apart from the number on that calendar. Those are the hard days.

The good news is that is the case less often, and there are more times when things look brighter. I keep working toward making that the norm and not heading into the unhappy place my title would suggest, and I have great friends who keep me moving in the right direction. And for those friends, I promise to address the questions that were asked in the comments of my last post; it just wasn't in me today.

While I'm not really into celebrating this New Year, I do wish you all a happy one and I hope that it's filled with good things for us all. My wish is that a year from now I'll be more up for putting a bit more cheer into my end of year post. Like a friend and I always used to say, Hope Springs Eternal.

To The Person(s) Who Broke Into My Car

As you didn't stick around to see the aftermath of what you did, I thought I'd fill you in so you would have the whole picture.

Sometime last night, you smashed two windows to break into my car. When I went out to the car this morning and saw that the rear driver's side window was mostly gone, I think I stood there for a full minute trying to comprehend what I was seeing. I was that shocked.

When I came to enough to move, I noticed that the front passenger side window was also smashed. That seemed just doubly insulting. I will admit that I was especially flummoxed because there was really very little of value in my car. I don't leave much in it on purpose, just to try to avoid having people like you do things like that.

I had my arms full of stuff (the valuable stuff, like a laptop and a tablet), so I turned around and went back into the house to put the stuff down and grab my cell phone to call my brother and the police. In that order, because that's how I roll.

At some point, I realized what you had gone after and what it was that you actually had taken. I figure you saw the mount for a GPS unit that was in the center console and decided to make a quick buck. Only problem was, you weren't actually smart enough to find the GPS unit. Instead you took my work portfolio and a small coupon holder, things that will net you almost no money but were invaluable to me.

I have to be honest, I really wish you'd found the GPS and left my portfolio.

(I should note that the GPS isn't even mine, it's my brother's and he wouldn't really have missed it. I think he'll agree with me. The coupon holder is a tough call but I hope you use the See's gift certificate and free Starbucks coupons to make someone else happy, at the very least.)

The police officer who responded was really nice but we both knew there's nothing they could do about finding my property. You probably know that, too. I have a feeling this isn't the first time you've decided to help yourself to something belonging to someone else. Part of me feels bad for you, imagining that you are going through a rough time with the economy struggling and maybe too many mouths to feed. But the more practical side of me thinks you're just a kid with no respect for other people or their things.

The thoughtless nature of what you did is what makes me most mad. And I'll admit, I'm pretty fucking mad. What took you probably five minutes to conceive of and carry out will take me hours upon hours to deal with and try to rectify, if I even can. It's not the money involved (which I hope pisses you off); I can afford to pay for insurance, the inevitable deductible and other expenses, as I have been making a living with that portfolio you took away from me today. And without it, I will continue to do so because I'm a strong individual who's making her own way in the world while trying to be a good person.

I'm betting that you don't have the wherewithal to do jackshit with the portfolio, at least nothing honest or worthwhile. 

That's what I'm going to remember every time I see the piece of shattered glass from one of the windows that I kept. I haven't figured out yet how to display this little memento, but it's going to be my personal reminder that someone like you can't truly harm someone like me, at least not my spirit. Shit, you didn't even make me cry. You might have dented my faith in humankind at bit, but I'll get over that because for every one person like you, there are a dozen good people that will intersect my life and knock out that dent in no time.

So, once all the calls have been made, the estimates gathered, the shopping done to replace my belongings as best I can, the repairs finished and my upholstery thoroughly vacuumed again to get rid of all those little bits of glass, I'll be fine. And you'll still be a dick who has nothing to show for your lamentable efforts and a very small heart.

I win.

I Am Become The Bay Bridge

At some point late this month, I realized that neither my brother nor I had changed our calendars to August. We hadn't talked about it and I just happened to notice that he hadn't done it, either, when I was at his house last week. By unspoken agreement, apparently, August is now our least-favorite month and I think that neither of us wanted to acknowledge that it was upon us.

As of last Friday, our mom has been gone for a whole year. My brother wrote this soul-crushingly good piece on Facebook that he posted that day, but I wasn't able to order my thoughts enough to put something here. I'm still not entirely sure I've got them together, but I felt I needed to get something down as we usher out this unfortunate month and move on to the next year of our lives without her.

I had to smile wryly as a friend on Facebook put in her status update that August 26th was her favorite day of the year because it was the birthday of three of her favorite people. It was one of those reminders of the Circle of Life and all that, a theme that has been popping up for me quite often, recently. As hard as it is to acknowledge sometimes, life does indeed go on, even when we lose someone so vitally important to us. That same day, babies are born, couples get married, people find the help they desperately seek, doctors heal the grievously injured and, as much as we feel like our lives have spun to a stop, the same things will happen the very next day. Though we move forward feeling as though a piece of us was ripped away, we do still move forward.

Last November, I wrote about how hard it was to go to places where Mom and I had gone, because in every corner were reminders of her and I was sometimes overwhelmed with how gaping the hole was in my life. I said that "I need to find a way or simply get to a point where these reminders bring me moments of happiness instead of pings of sadness." Much to my surprise, I have gotten to that point. I can smile when I am hit with those little reminders of her and think of them more fondly than sadly.

I'm building my bridge. Every once in a while a bracket or cable snaps (to further abuse that metaphor) and I'm right back in that ICU room listening to the machines go nuts that one, final time before she was gone. But I keep making repairs and shoring up my pillars (I'm done, I promise) and I'm inching toward the other side.

I couldn't be who I am and where I am without my mom's gifts to me and, even though looking back at them and weighing her loss in my life still brings me to tears, I'm infinitely grateful for her -- who she was, what she did and all she provided to me and my brother, tangible and intangible, while she was here.

An Order of Birthday, Happy on the Side

I thought about calling this "An Order of Birthday, Hold the Happy," but I decided that wasn't really accurate or honest. I don't want to hold the happy, I'm trying to embrace the happy. It's just that it's not front and center for the the first time on my birthday.

Birthdays have always been a big thing in my family, something I've probably written a few times here on this day in the past. But celebrating one without my mom here just seems...incomprehensible. There's not much more I can say about it than that.

I'll be spending the day, and Thanksgiving, with my now-smaller family and I'm grateful for that, just as I'm grateful for all the kind wishes that I'll receive from my friends. I just don't know if I'll be able to get through the day without bursting into tears and thinking, "She should be here. She should be here. She should be here."

The fact that I'm fighting to keep my dinner down right now tells me that I'm going to have to leave it at that. For those of you who are all about honesty and being real and revealing yourself on your blog, there's nothing more honest or real or personal I've ever written than that.

One Ping Leads to Another

I need to write. I know I need to write. But deciding what to say and how to say it ties me up in mental knots. Because this blog has always been a balance between the impersonal and the vaguely personal; it has never been something like a diary. That's not me, that's not what I do. Others do and it works for them, and I say good on them if it's what they want, but my blog is just that: mine, however I define it. And laying bare all my thoughts and feelings here is as alien to me as saying no to chocolate. It just doesn't happen.

But I'm not sure I know how to "just blog" while there's all this distracting emotional stuff in my head following my mother's death. It feels like there's simply nothing else for me to write about at the moment, and while I've happily taken a blog break before, that's not what I really want to do.

So, how do I bridge that gap? How do I go from talking about the universal to the personal, and still feel comfortable and true to myself? The only thought that comes to mind is: Baby steps.

I'll start with something that occurred to me today, and what really prompted me to finally sit down in front of the keyboard and at least try to start moving forward.

The biggest problem I'm having is that there are so many things -- so many, many things -- that remind me of Mom, and they pop up constantly, pinging on my consciousness. Our lives had become so intertwined, and I was so used to caring for her and thinking about getting and doing things to help her, that thinking about her when I'm out and about is second nature. I've always been a person who has a very visual memory. I see a stuffed lion and I think of my dad, because he was a Leo. I see a "Back to the Future" poster and I think of the summer we spent in Maine, the year it came out. I see an owl and I think of my mom, even though she stopped collecting them almost two decades ago.

Going to the grocery store is a mini-nightmare. Get a cart, go in, see strawberries, think of Mom. *ping* Keep going, see the apples she liked, think of Mom. *ping* Push on, see the oranges, think of Mom and resist the impulse to buy her one because it was a thing we liked to have on hand for when her blood sugar was low. *ping* Get out of produce, go down an aisle. See the biscotti she liked to have with her coffee each morning. *ping* Look to the other side of the aisle, see the braunschweiger (don't ask) Mom loved to have on crackers. *ping* Continue on, another aisle, remember a conversation we had right there about Eggo waffles. *ping* The hits keep on coming and finally I get to the checkout. Oh, and there are the pumpkin seeds that she loved and that we were buying constantly the last year to help her fiber intake. *ping*

Each of these reminders has a different feeling; some are somber, some are melancholy, some are funny, some are regret-inducing, a few are a little painful, some are surprising, while others are just "Oh, Mom would have liked that" kind of moments. (Not all of them are related to food, I swear. The grocery store was just where I was tonight -- the first time I'd gone back to that one since Mom died, as it happened -- thinking about it.) All in all not really bad things, but I just feel bombarded by them in a typical day. When I'm overwhelmed by them, I tend to think about and recall the more painful aspects of losing Mom, like the last 48 hours in the hospital and the last few minutes of her life. When I flash on those, and they tend to get gloomier the more I think about them, that's when I start to feel down and teary and like I will never stop feeling like this, like the bottom has dropped out of my life.

Then, as I was driving along tonight, it hit me that I need to find a way or simply get to a point where these reminders bring me moments of happiness instead of pings of sadness. For some reason, just realizing that and feeling like it can happen seemed really significant to me. It doesn't give me the slightest bit of insight on how to get there, but it feels like a starting point, at the very least.

So, there's the first pylon. Or whatever it is you use to start a bridge. The real question is, will it be the Bixby Bridge (short, scenic, stylish and leading to sunshine), the Bay Bridge (long, winding, keeps breaking, closes down every once in a while and its repairs won't be finished for years), or the infamous and least-desirable Bridge to Nowhere? (If I need to explain that last one, all hope is lost and you should move along to LOLCats or some such.)

I have no idea. I'll just be pleasantly surprised if I can successfully build it.