A "Brave" face and a blank page

I have waited to write again.  Waited for inspiration, for SOMETHING to help rejuvenate my thought process.  I guess you could say I've had 'writers block'.  Every time I've sat down to write in my blog, my mind just wouldn't open up.  It's been just over a month since my last writing. My goal was to write AT LEAST once a month, preferably twice a month.  And then, well, these past 30 plus days my mind has just gone blank.  I wondered why.  So I took time to think about it.  And really, as some of you read this I'm guessing there will be judgment passed, bitter feelings felt and even a bit of "oh, Debbie is having a pity party".  Truth be told, I don't really care about the first two things and the third, well, no.  No pity party.  Just me, coming to terms with what I'm feeling.

See, Mom died two days after Thanksgiving.  I coped with my emotions just fine.  I kept it all under my hat, so to speak, so no one would think I was wanting attention or throwing myself a pity party.  I was concerned about everyone else and didn't want to bother anyone, so I suffered in silence.  The more I kept my feelings to myself, the worse I felt.  I've vented to my husband a lot.  He has been a solid sounding board.  Nevertheless, I have still felt frustrated, hurt, angry and even let down. I've gone through all the emotions "they" say one goes through upon the loss of a loved one.

I would see family members post on Facebook how they missed my mom so much and how she was that particular person's "best friend".  I would have people tell me how kind and wonderful my mom was (and she really was, in her own way).  People from my own town, where my mom lived with us for just over 7 years, even expressed their sorrow for her passing.  However, I started feeling bitter and angry whenever I read something or someone expressed their sorrow.  Why?  Well, because for 7 years these "best friends" rarely came to visit my mom when she lived with us.  People from my town couldn't even take an afternoon off (accept for one lone person - and that meant a lot to me that he would take the time to attend my mom's funeral) to travel an hour to attend her funeral . That hurt.  That hurt A LOT.

Then there were those that asked if there was anything they could do for me.  I always said no.  I didn't know what I needed or wanted.  I was surprised at the death of my mom - knowing it was coming but still not expecting it so soon.  I didn't know if I needed dinners brought in or gifts left for me.  So, I said no - I'm good.  Sadly, most everyone took me at my word.  I even had one friend that I've worked with/for for over 21 years tell me they were going to do something for me, give me a gift, and THAT hasn't happened.  So, as I had my head underwater trying to plan the funeral (where there were SO MANY issues with securing a church building and the logistics of feeding my entire family after wards), write the eulogy, prepare my mom's body (I and a few family members dressed my mom) and even get something turned in for the newspaper obituary (which I even managed to get THAT wrong), I found myself getting sick.  I lost my voice and 5 pounds.  (Sadly, those 5 pounds have found their way back to me!)  I barely had my voice back by the time of the funeral to give the eulogy.


I had a few friends send me condolence cards and even a couple brought over plants.  I felt special when those cards and plants arrived.  I even had one friend come over with her family one night just to drop off some chips and homemade salsa.  She didn't ASK me, but rather TOLD me that she was bringing dinner over that next Wednesday.  I so looked forward to that meal.  It was a simple homemade meal of chicken soup but it was SOOO delicious.  It was the ACTION that was more satisfying than the meal itself.

Then there was the task of going through my mom's belongings.  That was no easy task.  My mom had a LOT of STUFF.  I was mostly interested in pictures and things with sentimental value.  So, I had five boxes placed out - one for me and each of my siblings.  If I came across something for a sibling, I put it in their box.  That was kind of fun, taking a walk down memory lane.  Then, sadly, I started finding things that I wished I hadn't.  Apparently, Mom had given money to people or signed documents for cars or houses. You name it, and someone had taken advantage of my mom in some way, shape or form.  The sad thing is that it appears that some people don't really care who they (pardon the expression) "screw over"....just as long as they get what they want.  And my mom wanted to be needed so bad, that she gave to these family members.  Then to top it off....my box had the least amount of stuff that my mom had kept.

I realized where my hurt was coming from.....I WANTED my mom.  I told her when she came to live with us that we didn't NEED her but rather we WANTED her.  Apparently my mom wanted to be needed or rather, she NEEDED to be NEEDED.  She was so busy helping those that NEEDED her, that we were never able to develop that relationship I had always wanted.  I guess in a way, you could say I needed my mom, too, but just didn't know it.  I needed my mom to love me as much as she showed her love to the others.  I found a letter I had sent to her when I was a senior in high school. In this letter I had apologized for sneaking out of the house to go see my boyfriend.  At 17 years of age I was BEGGING my mom to forgive me and to love me.  I BEGGED her telling her I wanted that close mother/daughter relationship. That never came to be.  I realized now, as a 49 year old daughter, that I had always wanted my mother's love and friendship, even 32 years later I was seeking that relationship.

And now, with her death and everything I have experienced in the last two months since her death and from going through her belongings, I realize I never got what I had longed for.  I realized it was something I had been chasing for over 30 years.  I guess that's why I never really ask others for help. I guess that's why I put on that brave face.  I guess that's why I try not to depend on others. Because I'm afraid of getting hurt.  I'm afraid of being let down. I'm simply afraid.

Mom didn't have much money left upon her death because she had spent it on others or loaned it to other family members.  I don't even know what's happening with her estate because she wouldn't even trust me enough to put me in charge of it.  She didn't leave me anything that I'm aware of.  But I did get her dog. People have said, "Your mom loved you enough that she left you her most prize possession...her dog."  My mom left me her dog because she knew I would take good care of Ladee and Ladee knew me and my family since she lived with us for 7 years.  It wasn't because she trusted me the most but rather because she knew I was responsible enough to take good care of her dog. Funny thing, whenever she needed someone to look after her or if she felt lonely (she had moved out to help a family member buy a house with money she loaned him) she would call me and say, "Can I spend the night at your house?  I don't want to be alone."  She knew she could always count on me when she needed it most. That should be some sort of consolation, right?  Sometimes being the "responsible" child just isn't enough. I still longed for the love of my mother.

So, I've laid my feelings out there.  If you find yourself offended, I make no apologies.  I'm hoping as more time goes by that I will find my mind and heart freed from the pain, hurt, bitterness, anger and disappointment.  Just know that when people put on that brave face in the midst of trials or adversity, they still may need a little extra hug or card or, in my case....chocolate!





I'm sure I'm not alone in my feelings. I'm willing to bet that many of you have experienced these same feelings, or similar, in your darkest hours.  I'm sure you have felt just as alone as I have....but believe me....when you are feeling this way and think no one else is or has or will feel this way, know that you are NEVER ALONE.  We all travel down similar roads and yet experience the same things. We just THINK we're alone, but we're not.  Remember - we are all weary travelers and just need to help each other along the way.  Perhaps next time I see you travelling down this road, and my burden seems heavy, as I reach out to help you, it just may lighten BOTH our loads.

God bless.

Debbie