August 27, Something About Today...

I haven't forgotten what day it is.

Three years ago, it was a Thursday.  I remember everything I did that day.  I remember the moment, sitting on a bench outside Greenville Memorial, when I just instinctively knew he had drifted past me there and settled into his new abode.

I think I will wake up on this day until I pass into my own new abode, and remember that day.  I will remember the ache, the realization that there is no replacing what is lost.  The peace of knowing his pain had ended.  The agony of knowing mine was just beginning.

Today is different though.  Today is different because his son's grandfather just left too.  He left sometime last night, headed for the new home, leaving behind that familiar empty space for all those who couldn't take the journey with him. 

Today, the ache inside is for the pain I know Reid's mommy must feel.  It's for the loss he'll know double-fold in years to come, when he is old enough to understand. 

Today is extra sad.  Today, I save my prayers for myself and my own loss, and give them to the Phillips family instead.  My prayers go to Reid and James. 

My memories are sweet.  The rewards of having known him are all around  me, and for that, I am thankful.

Rest in peace, Goose. 

My Son:

"I don't want to wear clothes," he says with a stomp from my doorway, wearing only his Spiderman underwear.

"Fine, don't wear clothes then.  But you can't go with me in your underwear."

Foot stomp.  Door slam.  Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!!

Back at my doorway with a muffin.  He can't open the package, so he gets on my bed beside me and tosses it onto my chest.  "I want muffins!"

I toss them back.  "Then ask me nicely."

"No, I wont!"  Tosses the muffins back at me.

I put them on the table beside my bed.  "I want muffins!" He yells with his eyebrows furrowed.

"Then ask me nicely."

"I won't!  I-Want-Muffins!!!"

I ignore him.

He's acting bratty.

He lies down beside the dog, considering giving in.  I'm content with the brief reprive.  I know that every thing we do today will involve this struggle.  His will against mine.  Mostly, I will win.  But sometimes, I'm too tired to care, so I just give in.

I love this boy.  I seem to be the only person who does at times.  I understand how difficult he can be.  I understand why someone would choose to live without me, rather than with me when being with me involves this daily battle of wills from the boy.

I'm his mom.  Nothing I can or would change about that.

Maybe I'm a pushover.  Maybe I'm a fool.  Maybe I should spank him?  Maybe I should let all those people who seem to know better than me raise him instead?

I have few real options.

Just have to keep being the best mom I know how to be.  I don't do everything right, but at least I'm here and i'm trying.

Cliffhanger

Someone once took me up to Bald Rock on a Sunday afternoon, and as we sat overlooking the places where we eat and work and live, the minutiae of every-day life and its troubles was impossible to see.  All you could really do up there on that huge rock, was admire the view while maintaining a safe distance from the edge of the cliff.  "It's a great place to live," he said.  I agreed. 

I can't see the details of tomorrow.  I don't know what will happen to me or my son.  I don't know where I will live a year from now, or even if I will still be alive.  All I can really do is wait it out and try to keep away from the edge of the cliff.  Its harder to enjoy the view when all you see are the tiny, worrisome details, but I have to try.  Maybe I can even convince myself that my life is a great place to live.


The above is a blog post from almost 2 years ago.  It doesn't seem like it has been that long, and life has continued on--things happening, my making things happen, and my failing to make things happen as always.  I've had some unexpected but much appreciated surprises and some major disappointments.  My body has failed me more, my emotions have betrayed me and my life has become an almost foreign place to me.  However, my life really is a great place to live.

Maybe it's because I've had so many losses over the last few years, or maybe it's just because I've finally learned to stop trying to control everything, either way, I'm grateful for all the little joys I have and tend to focus on those things more lately than I ever have.

I don't let myself think or analyze too much anymore.  I don't want to live a life that goes unexamined, but I also don't want to scrutinize everything so much that I end up overlooking the blessings.  

I'm just feeling so grateful that my future isn't set in stone, and the future of those that I love is just as fluid.  Who knows what will happen tomorrow?  I've got today to appreciate first.  I'll deal with tomorrow when it gets here.