Remnants of the Past, Embracing the Now

Photo by Maria Orlova on Pexels.com

I saw clearly the remnants of forgotten cigarette butts in the scattered rocks as we drove through to get that coffee. I was thinking to myself how many years some of those butts have been buried there, long after their victims have been gone. I dig into things and overthink if I’m not careful.

The voices of aggravation on the other end of the speaker from a person just there to do a job so they can pay the light bill that’s been way over-priced since the frigid dropping of the temperatures. Or the teen coming up in age, just working for that extra pocket cash, definitely not wanting to spending it on anything except the material things they feel deprived of. All thrown into one building working and serving the masses.

I feel all of this as I pass through the line, my daughter in the passenger seat. I feel nostalgic. Fully aware of everything in every moment. Extremely grateful for each and every second. Even though we recently had a therapy appointment and have to go back next week because the therapist is concerned for my daughter and is setting her up with psychiatry. Still, I am so grateful. Unable to allow myself to feel anything else because of the chaos that has tried to take me down for so long. I’m on the front lines of a battle like no other. And for anyone who knows me, there have been so many battles up to this moment. They seem like a staple for every chapter that I am constantly trying to break free from.

I am doing today with a smile on my face. Because I choose to. Even through each moment of heaving for air. Because I want every moment. I want every second.

I just swopped places with my daughter and now I watch as she drives. For a moment, I see my little girl. Her little smile. Her giggle. Except for this current version just yelled shit as another car got in her lane. lol. Still, I see her. I remember every single moment. She’s growing up so quickly and I am here for it. She’s 16, and will get her driver’s license in a couple of weeks. 2 years left in school, and the future awaits her.

I want to be there to see the incredible things she is going to do. I want to hold grandbabies, and see that’s mother’s love in her eyes. I want to see her do better than I did. I’ve never been that parent that said, “I hope your child is just like you.” I wish a whole different life for her. I wish peace for her and her children. And every dream come to life.

I’ve also never been that parent who says, “No one will ever love you as much as I do, or the way that I do.” That’s crazy. This world can be incredible. I wish more for her. I pray she finds someone that loves her bigger in ways that are more than a mother’s love can surpass. And I pray that they give her the world she deserves, which is bigger than anything her or I could ever imagine. I’ve tried so hard to work over these mountains so I could be someone she could be proud of and even maybe one day, would want to take a lesson from.

But lately, I have realized that I want her to be completely and totally herself. A whole new chapter. Breaking the cycle of this chaos. She is so incredible and adventurous. That combination in life can be so exciting and limitless. And as her parent, I am excited for all of these adventures.

We took the long way home, stopping too long at stop signs of course. The whole time, I’ve grasped the oh crap bar for my life. Even though in reality, she’s a good driver. And she has always picked up on everything so quickly. I just can’t let go and give control to anyone, and it’s something I am still working on. It’s something that frustrates her greatly.

We arrived home. Spring is in the air and I soaked up every single second of what was left of the daylight on the porch. I could hear my daughter singing in the basement in her room so I snuck to her window and started to sing with her, giggling. I couldn’t help but peak in on her. As teens, they don’t come out of their lairs as often as we would like them to. So, honestly, every chance I get to come up with an excuse to peak in on her or tell her I love her, I do it. Life is so short. I want her to know it. That I love her. Because I love her so big.

The grass is turning bright green again. I try and focus on that in this moment, as the thoughts of upcoming specialist’s follow-ups for my many ailments come creeping up on me in the coming days. I’ve spent a lot of time pushing back fear and trying to live in faith. It’s hard sometimes, if I am being honest. Some of the answers I get could change my entire world, or my daughter’s entire world, or both. So, each day, I am just living in every moment. Loving as hard I can, harder than I ever have. I am accepting hugs, which I have always struggled with as a touch me not and never accepted before. Even the closest people to me have jokingly asked permission before hugging me in the years up till now. However, in this new chapter in my life, I want love in every form. All of it. And I want to give it back, in every form. Freely and wholeheartedly.

We can’t change any bad or good news we get. We can’t change how long or short the time we have here on this earth is. And we can definitely not change the yesterdays that got us to this very moment. Tomorrow, no matter what the day brings, I will embrace what comes, with my everything. And gather all of the remnants to take with me, wherever I may go…

The Journey Changes. WHether you like it or not, You will have to Surrender.

 

My little girl is just that to me, my little girl, and she always will be. Over the past couple of years, I have watched the little girl slowly but surely change into a beautiful, intelligent young lady. She’s 10 now, and on Sunday, September 20, 2015, the official landmark of becoming a woman entered our home and chose its 10-year-old target and brought this mama to her knees……

                                                                                 ‘THE CURSE’

Here are the ways that you can prepare yourself for this inevitable change coming your way as the mother..

1.       ………………………….

2.       ………………………….

3.       ………………………….

DO you see the pattern here? There are no real answers to prepare you for this moment!

I have had the puberty/period conversation with my daughter at least a total of 12 times. And every time, the conversation went spectacular….well, as spectacular as it could go.

But on the day before (Saturday, September 19, 2015), My daughter and I, my sister, and mom went and did some yard selling, and on our last stop, my daughter kept saying, “I’ve got to go to the bathroom!” (She would kill me if she knew I was telling you this). By the time we got to my grandmother’s house, where everyone had parked their cars, she ran to the bathroom. She was in there forever.

Finally, I texted her and asked did she fall in and at that time, she came out. Although it was unlike her, she kept trying to rush me for us to leave and go home. Finally, I did and found out in the car why. She had an accident eeekkkkk.. Her stomach was messed up all evening and she even had several more “discrepancies” until I finally made her put a woman cushion on. (haha)

Skip to the next day, the day I’m calling “Cry me a River Mama”

It was a great, lazy Sunday. Later on in the afternoon, I knew in the back of my mind that I had bought some Mint Chocolate Chip Ice cream and I wanted to figure out if I was going to be able to give her some so I asked, “baby, how’s your stomach today?” She replied with, “well, actually it just happened again.” I said what! She got this look of terror on her face and says, “yea and this time, it had blood on it”. I freaked out and said show me. She said, well I flushed it. I scolded her telling her how important it was to tell her mom if she has blood in her bowel. She got that same look of terror and begins to fumble her words….(I at this point think she is lying and trying to get out of school the next day) Finally, she says, “It wasn’t in the toilet, in was on my underwear.” I then had her show me. So, I waited in the hall while she got changed and I opened the door and there the woman cushion was I had her put on the night before and it had the blood on it. MY HEART SANK……I knew right then what had happened….

I took her face in both of my hands and I told her, “sweetie, you’ve started your period”. (nothing could prepare me for her reaction)

She broke down and lost it. Cried out loud while screaming, “I don’t want to, I don’t want it!” As a mother, I wanted so bad to scream and cry with her, but I held back on it (for now). I told her everything was going to be ok. And that everyone in her class was going to go through the same thing. I even told her that a couple of girls probably already were going through it, and had just not told anyone. I told her that it was all part of becoming a woman, although the very thought of my baby having to go through this bloody hell angered me.

Next, I told her that we were going to do a second test. I told her to go into the bathroom and wipe herself and when she did, womanhood was confirmed. She broke down again. I spent the next 5 minutes holding what was left of my little girl in my arms while she cried, and I was as consoling as I could be, saying whatever I could think of to make it better.

When she finally calmed down, I said all there was left to say. (only to make me feel dorky and old later when I thought about it) First, I said, “if it makes you feel any better, I’m about to start mine, we can be blood sisters”. Second, I said the last thing that could be said……”Can I get you anything?” “Like,…some…ummmm..chocolate?” “It always makes me feel better.” She wiped her tears and began to laugh. …….

Over the course of the next hour, my daughter was fine as though nothing had happened. I, however, was outside on the verge of a mental breakdown.

All I could think of was the fact that this precious soul that I once held innocently in my arms was slipping away from me. I could subconsciously see my little girl walking down the road and looking back at me waving. I was completely heartbroken. I cried….and then I cried….and then I stared…and then I cried. I felt as though my daughter’s childhood was sped up in fast forward mode and I had watched it dizzily, unable to stop it from happening. Her first words, her first favorite song, her first steps, the hard times we had went through that thankfully, she didn’t remember. All the hundreds of times where it was just me and her against the world. I could see pictures in my head. I could hear her laughing, and even if briefly, it was so beautiful.

Then, I flipped into an even more devastating mode……Will she need me anymore? She doesn’t let me touch her hair, pick an outfit….NOTHING! It has been almost 2 years since my daughter has let me do anything for her, give or take an opinion or two. A lot of mornings, she even makes her own breakfast. Very independent, and yes, I am so very proud of that. However, where do I fit in?

I, over the days that have passed, have tried to remember when she went from being little, to this beautiful, intelligent young girl. So many things run through my mind like….did I teach her everything I needed to teach her before this moment? Does she understand how very much I love her? Are we close like I have always thought we were? Have I taught her enough to communicate well with me? Oh my gosh, one day she’s going to leave me…..she’s going to grow up and go places, I just know it. Have I extended every branch so that she knows I am always here? Here waiting for her to need me. Waiting for her to want to hug me, want to laugh with me..

Does she understand that I would give anything in the world to start over and have her be my little girl again? I just want to give her a better life than I ever even dreamed of. Because out of all the things I dreamed of, she is the only one that came true and superseded all my expectations.

I guess whether I am ready or not, the journey changes. My journey changes. Our journey changes…