Well
ladies and gents, it looks as though I am going to repeat my round of posts
from earlier this year. Not the exact posts; that would be silly. I am
referring to the format. I will put up posts in rapid fire succession in order
to catch you up on what I have missed. Technically there is no need for this
since the posts will be about seemingly random things as opposed to events.
However, I have a list of topics I just have to get off my chest. In fact, the
first set of events will be broken down into multiple posts. In this post and
more to come I will talk to you about the approximate third week of March.
There was a major holiday, a revival of our themes, and a significant birthday.
I will post about the first two next time, as they tie together. But first I
want to tell you about March 13th. It would have been my mother’s 46th
birthday. As some of you know, my mother passed away this past December. It was
a hard time, but I had not really been overcome by grief or anything to that
effect. Some may even say I had a lack of a reaction. It will not have been the
first time I have heard that, nor will it be the last I am sure. I have learned
that I deal with things in my own time. So when the death first occurred, I was
there for everybody else but did not exactly mourn openly. Something shut off
in my brain. The same cannot be said for her birthday.
The
week of her birthday, I became greatly depressed. If any of you have been
paying attention, you will have noticed that is when my posts started abating
again. I had many ideas for topics but could not seem to drum up the energy to
actually write them out. I worked, came home and just sat on the couch. Then
one night, I happened to be going through a box of pictures. I had received two
boxes and ironically the box I had never seen before had no effect on me. For
some reason, the box that I had gone through on a previous, though recent,
occasion was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I lost it. I cried for
hours. I can’t claim anything cliché such as I felt better afterward or that
all my emotions came flooding out. I simply sat on the floor and cried. Then, I
was exhausted so I gave up on the pictures (they are still unsorted) and went
to bed. For the rest of the week, as well as the next one, I continued to be
depressed. I made it through my days normally for the most part, I was simply
too tired to make an effort with anything. Last week, I started to feel better.
I will not say I am healed or that I don’t miss my mother. I am still grieving
in my own odd way, and I miss her terribly at the most random of moments. But I
am happier and trying to enjoy the little moments as much as possible.
Therefore, I believe I am heading towards being ok, or at least as ok as I have
ever been. (I’m a bit out there if you haven’t noticed)
This
was originally not supposed to be about me, but I believe it’s only fair to
tell you all where I am at mentally. This post was just supposed to be about my
mother. I have already written a post about her, and in the interest of not
giving away too many pertinent details of my life, there isn’t really much more
I can really say. Plus, I don’t think I am quite at a point where I can just
flow information about her. It’s still a bit painful to think about. But I can
say that the day was hard for everybody in my family. It was a sad day all
around, and discussions of my mother were prevalent all day among many. As I
said, she would have been 46 but she has been telling people she was 25 for as
long as I can remember. It would have been the year we were 25 together. And
her birthday was very close to one of her 3 favorite holidays. My mother loved
Halloween because she enjoyed decorating our yard. She also went absolutely
crazy for Christmas with decorations, music, gifts, and so on. But I think her
most favorite holiday was St. Patrick’s Day. She was 100% Irish and loved to
celebrate that. She went above and beyond with her outfits every year. She painted
her nails, found green clothes, put temporary tattoos on her face or drew on
it, got stickers for everywhere, dyed her hair (with sprays or something that
washed out) and always wore her jacket covered in the pin collection her father
started, which she continued over the years. For the past few years, I have had
possession of that coat. But nothing ever stopped her from having a blast on
St. Paddy’s Day. So this year’s day of the Irish had a sad undertone a bit. But
next year it will be celebrated in her honor I’m sure. So here I will say a
Happy Birthday (albeit at this point, a little late) to my mother. I hope she
had a good one, wherever she was. And I will swear that my next post won’t be
sad, so come back and read it soon. Until then…
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