Be Kind, Not Green Eyed.

As women, I think it is our responsibility to uplift other women; to empower and encourage each other. I think it’s our obligation to share in each other’s triumphs, each other successes, no matter how big or small. I think it’s our job as women, our duty as sisters in this life to at least lead with a smile or a heartfelt “way to go girl”. Trust me, it won’t kill you to be happy for someone else.  I think women who cannot offer their praise or support to one another are petty, selfish individuals that have truly lost their moral compass.

This is not to say that if my girlfriend told me she won an all-expense paid trip to Hawaii and chose not to bring me, I wouldn’t be jealous. Of course I would be! But would I truly and genuinely be happy for the luck that had befallen her? Absofreakinlutely. Jealousy is part of our everyday lives. It is normal and it is okay to have pangs of the green eyed monster. The type of jealously I am referring to is the deliberate kind. The mean girl kind. Like when you hear of something wonderful happening to someone else or their children and you simply ignore it because that something wonderful didn’t happen to you. To pretend you don’t hear the news or in a more modern twist, to purposely NOT “like” it on Facebook because you can’t stand the thought of something happy or wonderful happening to someone other than you, is petty and quite frankly, outrageous.

I am thrilled to hear of your triumphs, no matter how big or small. My happiness for you is the same whether it’s a lucrative job promotion or because you got a new area rug for your living room. I am happy for your child if they win the 3^rd place ribbon in the 4^th grade spelling bee or if they will be attending Harvard in the fall. Do you know why I am able to be happy for you? Because it literally takes no energy or strength for me to share in those triumphs with you. Whatever makes you happy, forges you ahead in this cynical, negative world or puts a smile on your face is a triumph and a journey I wish to take with you. It is certainly not something I wish to take away from you or worse yet, make you feel bad about it by not recognizing it or celebrating it with you. To do this is simply cruel and completely unnecessary. When someone does this to a child, it becomes especially virulent.

Feeling genuinely happy for you, takes nothing away from me. Feeling happy for your child and their successes, no matter how big or small has nothing to do with how wonderful my child is or how great his successes may be or by what gauge I measure those successes. Your opinion does not define me or my child but I will tell you that your lack of support and happiness for me or the things I hold dear, says a lot about the kind of person you truly are and the world in which you are bound to. That’s not the world I will ever live in, not even for one second.

 We are all mystical creatures with different talents, skills and character traits. The same is to be said for our children. They are unique, one of a kind, exquisite individuals in their own right. They are complex, eager and amazing people that we help to shape by our own experiences and knowledge. They will grow differently. They will learn differently. They will excel in some things and falter in others. So what does that mean in the grand scheme of things?? Nothing. Because your child is a better Science student than mine, does it mean you are a better parent? No, it just means that they are a better Science student. Because my child is a better basketball player than yours, does that mean he will be more successful later in life? No, of course not. It simply means they are different and with every fiber of their being they are trying to carve out a little notch for themselves that separates them from everyone else. So when my child excels at something, anything, show your love and support for him just as I do for your child. Because when you ignore him, what you are really saying is HE does not matter, HIS successes don’t matter. And to me this is the epitome of selfishness because you can’t rein in your adult emotions long enough to offer a “congratulations” or a “way to go kid” because the wonderful happened to him and not to your child.

But don’t worry, someday soon, something wonderful WILL again happen to your child. They will do something amazing and you will be so incredibly proud and happy and you will want to shout it from the rooftops and rightfully so. And you know what? So will I. Because that is the kind of person I am. I hope when you look back on whatever incredible moment you end up sharing with your child, you think of me. I hope you think of the countless times I led the brigade for your child and how you failed so many times to do the same for mine. I hope one day you will see what you’ve done and you can somehow reconcile that in your own mind. But in the meantime, I will choose the high road each and every time because my peace of mind means more to me than the satisfaction my words would bring to a deaf ear. So, I shall hold my head high and carry on and I will always, always choose kind over green eyed.

 

NOW...about that trip to Hawaii... I can be ready in 30 minutes!

Senior Moments

 

It was morning of September 3^rd, 2015. Mattie stood on the front porch, backpack slung over his shoulder, big smile on his face, so excited to be starting this journey…so much more ready than the person begging to memorialize the moment with a photo. The same photo I’ve taken since his first day of Pre-K. I’ve been there, every single time, every single moment. This one should be no different. And yet it is.

 

As he drove out of the driveway with his cousins, heading off to his first day as a senior in high school, I am paralyzed by my emotions. It’s hard to believe this day is here already. I knew it was coming. I had 17 years to prepare for it and yet, I’m not. I should feel proud. I should feel happy. I should feel an overwhelming sense of accomplishment, a sense of something, anything good but I don’t. My heart simply aches, just as I knew it would. It’s not to say that deep down I don’t have a flood of other emotions, amazing emotions about how proud I am and how fortunate I am to have been blessed with this incredible kid. But at this moment, it pales in comparison to the pain my heart feels.

 

This year, his senior year, will be filled with so many moments that will make me proud. He will get his driver’s license. He will go to prom. He will graduate. He has grown up before my eyes and instead of watching all these moments in normal time it’s like watching them on an old movie projector…Just when you get to the end, the reel flies wildly off the spool. That’s me. I’m trying to hold onto these moments, one at a time, trying to savor each one. They are precious moments that are flying wildly past me. I simply can’t get a grip on time anymore.  

 

I remember moments when he was little. Things like bringing him to my Mom’s, carrying him up that huge flight of stairs, dropping him off so I could go grab a drink with my friends or go to a movie or have an hour to clean the house uninterrupted by a toddler. Uninterrupted. If only I could go back and realize the power of the moment. If only I knew then how the time would race by. But I didn’t. None of us do. We only see what’s right in front of us. We don’t expect our children to be babies one day and in the blink of an eye, before us, stands a grown up.

 

I know I’m not the only parent to experience this. I know I’m not the only parent that wants to hold on for dear life and yet have the presence of mind to try and let go a little each day. I know it’s tough for a lot of us. But in the moment it feels like the loneliest place in the world. I haven’t been fortunate enough in my life to have the kind of marriage where I look forward to having the house empty. I haven’t had the “looking forward to time alone with my husband after the kids are gone” kind of life. I’ve been a mom, that’s all. My whole life has been wrapped up in him. Every single ounce of it. Maybe I’ve done him a disservice. Maybe I’ve done myself a disservice. But I don’t think so. He is a bright, sweet, funny, smart, amazing young man with a heart like mine (the jury is still out on if that’s good or bad) who dreams big and loves hard and wants nothing but the best for himself and those around him. I’d say I did a good job and although I know my job is far from over, everything is changing and changing fast. My problem is, I don’t know what to do with myself now.

 

Do I take up a hobby? Do I study a foreign language? Do I go back to school? What do I do with all this time that I dedicated to raising him? The everyday time that he no longer needs of me.  I simply don’t know what to do and with each passing day, the me I always knew myself to be, is fading away. I feel in a weird way, I am becoming less of a mother and more of just a regular woman and I don’t know what to do with that or how to relate to it.

 

These moments I speak of, are flying by. Graduation is next week and I can hardly keep a thought in my head. I am happy Mattie has decided to go to a community college only 20 minutes from home but the dynamic is already different. It’s in our nature to teach our children independence but when they finally grow their wings it’s a crushing blow to the Mama bird still perched in the nest. I don’t want him to leave. I don’t want him to not need me. It’s selfish, I know but I can’t help it. I should have planned better. I should have prepared myself better for this moment to be left this alone. But I didn’t. So for once, I seem to be at a loss for words. A loss of perspective. It seems I cannot see beyond this moment, beyond this murky lens in which I view my life. I am so excited for this next leg of his journey because he has worked so hard and he deserves this. He deserves a life of his own, a life filled with all he has ever dreamed of. And as I watch that light of his burn brighter and brighter, I see mine slowly extinguish and it scares me so.

 

For now, I will do as I do. I will sit back and take what I can in stride. Take it with a bit of humor and grace. I will watch this young man who I love more than life, blossom and take with him every hope and dream I’ve ever had for him. He will continue to grow, continue to shine brighter than the brightest star and I will relish in the fact that I was witness to it all; every time, every single moment and with many, many tears, and a smile on my face, even the senior ones.

To the Motherless on Mother’s Day

                Today isn’t very different for me than any other day because my mother is still not here. A date on the calendar doesn’t change that fact, not even Mother’s Day. The reminder of her absence is only magnified because everywhere I turn, images of people and their moms flood social media, television, almost everywhere… people celebrating, just as they should do. Just as I would do, if mine were still here.

 

                My mom was sick for quite some time before she died and although I knew the outcome of her recovering wasn’t favorable, it took a while for me to accept this truth. It’s as if my heart simply couldn’t accept the reality my brain had grown to understand. That my mom would in fact, die, leaving me motherless. In the months preceding her death, I spent so much time talking to her, taking care of her, never wanting to be anywhere else, even when I knew my body and mind were so exhausted by the constant vigilance over her. I would remind her how much I loved her even when she began to forget that I was her daughter, her Jenny, her Junebug, as she always called me. I talked to her every single day, sitting by her hospital bed, reminding her of who she was, of who I was and all she meant to me. In those final days it brought me a little peace knowing I had had time to say goodbye. And I think in her final act of love for me, she chose to die when I wasn’t present as if she knew seeing her take her last breath would indeed have been too much for me to bear.

 

                 I thought about all the things she would miss, mainly Mattie’s milestones. His first day of his senior year, prom, graduation, his first day of college, his wedding day, the birth of his children and every other little or big thing in between those days. All the things my mom would have otherwise been front and center for. These things filled me with sadness because she should be there. She was supposed to be there. That was the plan. But I soon realized my sadness was not so much for Mattie because I knew he would be okay. After all, he still had me and I was HIS mom. It was me that I was so sad for. It was me that my own heart broke for. Because it was me that still needed her. It was me that still wanted her. She was always the glue that kept me together, always the one who made me feel okay. Each and every day I still want to call her, tell her about my day, ask her advice, bitch about something, talk about anything and everything and I’m heartbroken every time I realize I can’t. Her number is still in my phone even though it has long since been disconnected. I still look at the screen that is labeled “MOM” wondering who would answer if I dared to dial the numbers. It wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t be her.

 

                I know I am not the only one who has ever lost their mother. There are amazing women in my very own circle that have lost their Moms. We are a sisterhood of sorts, an army of women bonded by a loss that is unfathomable by most. Their pain is not greater than mine nor is their pain less than mine. It’s merely different. We are each grieving perhaps the greatest loss of our lives and somehow we’ve managed to survive. Some days are better than others. But one thing I am sure of, life is meant to be lived. It’s what my mother wanted for me and what I’m sure what your mothers wanted for you. I know today will be hard, especially if it’s the first Mother’s Day without her. So do what you must today to get through it. Cry, grieve, take a hot bath, drink a nice glass of Malbec or hang out with your girlfriends. Hug your children tight and celebrate your love for them. Live in the moment. It’s what we should do every day anyway. Whatever you decide to do today, be sure to breathe in and out deeply and just get through it. Get up, get dressed and show up. Be brave and go about your lives. Remember it’s just another day on the calendar. Your mother is all around you today, just as she was yesterday. Just as she will be tomorrow. She’s just not here physically but believe me when I say there is a gaggle of women (I imagine all our moms hanging out together) up in heaven looking down on us…telling us, inspiring us, believing in us, willing us to move forward through the pain. Don’t focus on the day. Focus on the life. The life she led. The life she wanted you to lead. Remember the stories, share the memories and be sure to talk to her. She is still there. She is as much a part of you as she ever was. Mother’s Day will never be the same again, I know. The pain will never go away, no matter how much time passes but a mother’s love is unending, even in death. This much I know to be true. So if nothing else, today, celebrate you! Celebrate the wonderful, amazing person you are, the person your mother raised.

 

Happy Mother’s Day. My you all be filled with love and peace today and always.

 

  Jenny  xoxo

 

The Upside of Anger

I made it through the holidays by the skin of my teeth. I usually go all out decorating and baking because it’s my absolute favorite time of the year. I am usually filled with happiness and the magic of the season. But not this year. This year I put on a happy face for everyone but inside I am dying. This year everything was different. Not only am I without my mother for the first time but this may be the last year I have Mattie under this roof, waking up with him on Christmas morning. Furthermore, Tom and I are just growing more distant. We are virtual strangers and I can hardly stand it anymore. Days pass and we barely utter a word to one another. We are roommates sharing a house but even roommates share some kind of intimacy. Between us, there is nothing.

 

I have learned not to cry. I have learned not to care. I have learned to live with the silence that was once deafening to me. I have learned to become angry. It is the only way I have managed to stay sane in a house that fills me with nothing but craziness. It is the upside of anger. It is the benefit of rage, of not caring. I am able to walk around and not give a shit about what he is doing, where he is going, when he is coming home. I have learned to tune everything out simply because I no longer care. It’s not to say that I don’t care about him. I’m sure I still do, somewhere deep inside. I care about his safety when he is working a job he hates. But he stopped caring about me and my feelings a very long time ago and to manage my pain and to stay in this house, to stay married to him for as long as I have, I had to become him. I had to become angry.

 

I’ve come to terms with this new me. I don’t think anyone has really noticed it except Tom. Maybe because I don’t need to be this me with anyone but him. I’m hyper vigilant, untrusting, irritated, resentful and downright pissed off all of the time. I guess I just got tired of pulling the entire emotional weight of this marriage. I’ve been doing it for nearly 6 years and frankly, I’m exhausted. I cannot do it anymore. It has taken the greatest toll on my heart for I no longer believe in him or us. I have absolutely nothing left to give. I am now as absent as Tom has been for the past 6 years and I’m okay with it.

 

What I’ve come to realize since my mom’s death is that life is so fucking short and that I deserve to be happy. She always told me so but I guess I never really believed that until now. I was so focused on Tom and Mattie, making sure they had everything they needed. And that if somehow I was a good mother, a devoted wife that happiness would be earned like a medal of honor that I could pin to my chest to show the world that I was good enough, that I had done right by my family. That for all my trying, I would get back a portion of the happiness I had given. But sadly, life doesn’t work that way. I have given everything of myself to the two people who have meant the most to me and although watching Mattie grow into a strong, intelligent young man who is well on his way to adulthood, is rewarding, it is simply not enough for me anymore. And every day, as I watch him gain more independence, I look around and wonder what is left for me here, in this house, after he is gone. What will become of me here? My purpose will be gone. My job. My reason for staying, will be gone. Tom has given me nothing of himself, showed me nothing. Our marriage, our life together is a joke. It is based on absolutely nothing. Built on dreams of a life he never really wanted and promises never intended to keep.

 

I promised myself I wouldn’t cry anymore. Secretly, I long to, each and every day. But my anger keeps me in check. It simply won’t let me betray myself in that way. It’s been too much hurt; far too many nights my cries were ignored. Far too many nights my pleas fell on deaf ears. So I will sit with my anger until it passes; until the anger turns to acceptance. Until I can look at Tom without seeing resentment. Until I can see him as just a man who made mistakes, who didn’t mean to hurt me. Until I can forgive him for letting me down, for letting Mattie down. Until I can stop blaming him for turning me into someone I hate.

 

Every day, I am still trying. Trying to figure out my place in this mess. And my responsibility. I don’t blame Tom for everything although it sounds like I do. I’m just stuck in the bitterness instead of the sorrow. It’s not where I want to be, it’s where I need to be, for now. The loneliness over the last several years nearly destroyed me and has leveled what little confidence I have left. So it seems far less toxic sitting with the animosity, having it resonate through my body, feeling the power of it instead of the crushing blow of disappointment. It’s the upside of anger and it’s where I belong.