Sad, Unsure & Worried

I haven’t posted in awhile because I wasn’t really sure what to say. I know I said that I was going to continue with my post about friendships, but I just can’t right now. Everything is just too muddled. The world, our country, this damn virus and all of the people that are hurting.

Let me get this out of the way before I start on my post. I agree with the BLM protests. Things must change. I do not, however, agree with the violence or the riots. I have law enforcement officers in my family. My son in law is the chief of police in a small town near where we live. He is a good cop. He is a good person. But, that doesn’t mean that I think ALL cops are good. I don’t believe that you can put a blanket statement like that about any group. There are good and bad people in every part of life. It doesn’t matter what color your skin is, how you fall on the political spectrum or what religion you follow. I also want to say that I cannot possibly understand how much black people are hurting. Though I’ll never understand, please know that I DO STAND with the BLM movement. And I will listen and learn. I may not always get it right, but I’ll try. I promise this will be a continuing conversation in my house.

How am I feeling today? I just don’t know. My ex-husband died today. The father of my children. We met in high school and got married at 17. We were just babies. We were married from 1983 to 1998. That’s a lot of years. So, I’m feeling so many emotions tonight. Sadness and worry for my kids. I’m hoping they will be alright. I feel such sorrow for my former in laws. I can’t imagine burying my child. I feel so bad for his wife. She and her late ex-husband were mine & Ronnie’s best friends (it was weird at first, but that was over 20 years ago, and we all get along just fine now).

I’m not even sure how I’m supposed to feel. I know I’m so thankful for Adrian. He’s talked to the kids and has listened when I wanted to talk today. I’m grateful for his strength. Then, I feel guilty for being grateful, because, well I don’t even know why I feel guilty. Life doesn’t come with an instruction booklet. That’s a shame because it sure would be helpful. I want to support my kids and grandkids while they’re dealing with the loss of their father/grandfather and still honor my husband and marriage. I also want to make sure that I’m showing respect for Ronnie’s widow. Does any of this make sense, or is it as confusing as my feelings are right now?

My anxiety is at an all time high. So much going on in and outside of my mind. My sister told me to just let my emotions come and just honor them. She’s pretty wise, so I think that maybe I should listen to her. Maybe they’ll all just blow away like dust during a storm. But then they’d probably just show up one day as huge clumps of mud that just smears everywhere. I just don’t know. I want my mom. I wish a hug and candy made me feel all better like it did when I was younger. I wish I could go to sleep. Mostly though, I wish I knew how to feel.

Father Time, you’re a bitch

My mom came over yesterday. We had planned to go shopping and get our hair cut. But you know what they say about best laid plans…. I woke up with a hitch in my lower back Tuesday. It just got worse as the day progressed. Today it really hurts. Also, our air conditioning bit the big one a little before midnight. I’m trying to be grateful that it only got to 90 degrees today. I’m not doing a very good job being grateful.

So, I canceled our shopping day and rescheduled my hair appointment. Mom stopped by before her appointment to drop some things off. Only, she got the appointment time wrong, so she missed it altogether. I could tell that she was frustrated with herself. I seem to forget everything nowadays, so I know how she feels. It got me thinking about time.

Sometimes I play this game in my head about the past. I’ll think of a memory and try to remember when it happened. I usually fail at that, unless one of the kids or grands is in the memory. Then I can usually put a year to the memory. It’s so infuriating. I used to remember EVERYTHING. Age, anxiety, pain, medication…. I guess that’s the perfect cocktail to erase a large portion of both minor and major details.

Today, after my mom left, I thought of all the times that she showed up just when I needed her. I know that I talk about my fear of driving. I very seldom do it anymore. But, my mom is absolutely fearless when it comes to being behind the wheel. She always has been. She has no qualms about going on a solo road trip. I think it comes from being a Marine’s wife. She doesn’t get upset if she gets lost in an area completely foreign to her. She just drives until she’s back in familiar territory. I do believe that she’s probably driven on just about every highway in the continental U.S.

I thought of the times she would come to me and the kids when things got bad with my first husband. There were no cell phones then, yet I always remember how I could call on her landline and she always came. Or, how she would pick me up and take me shopping for groceries. We’ve walked down grocery store aisles way too many times to count. Remember her coming to the kids’ games. She would sit in the bleachers just watching, or she’d work the concessions, entry gate, just wherever she was needed at the time.

Hospital visits after surgery? She was usually there when I woke up. If she wasn’t, she’d be there soon after. Recovery time at home after surgeries? She (and often Daddy too) would come over with fountain drinks, sweets, adult coloring books, magazines, whatever. The point is, she’d be there.

All of this rambling is to say that seeing her upset about forgetting her appointment time was jarring. I see my kids getting older. I realize how old I am when I see my oldest GRANDDAUGHTER driving😱. But, I never think that my mom is getting older. I guess I just tend to think that she’s always going to be there. But, she’s going to be 76 this year. She’s the youngest 75 year old person that I’ve ever known. Yet the reality is she’s not immortal. She is getting older. I don’t like that thought. I want to stomp my feet, shake my fists in the air and rail at the heavens. I want to insist that she stay young and healthy forever. But, I know that’s impossible.

I don’t like these thoughts. Not one bit. I don’t ever want to imagine a life without her. I’m pouting. Maybe it’s because I’m really hot and I really hurt. But, honestly? I think it’s because my heart doesn’t want to think of a world with no Pat/Mom/Mimi in it.