There is an interesting phrase in blogland- Keeping it Real. I know I don't keep it as real as I could, because it would often be such a downer, and far too personal about other people in my life. So I edit my life. Or avoid posting all together.
May is a tough month to get through. There are plenty of happy things like birthdays of loved ones, but there are also some tough, less than fun memories. In May, my Grandma A. finally succumbed to cancer. In May, I suffered my first miscarriage shortly before what would have been my first "Mother's Day". In May, my Grandma F suffered a stroke, which ended her life two months later. In May, my sister was diagnosed with breast cancer. In May, 22 years ago, my father was hit head on by a car while riding his motorcycle. This led to days of wondering if he would live, weeks of wondering if he would ever wake from the comma, then months of what will he regain in his abilities, then the years of hard stress and trauma of his head-injured state and all that comes with it- most often with little to no support from extended family and friends. He is hard. His life is hard.
May is full of busy, extra things to finish off the school year. May is Mother's Day. I am not a very big fan. I spent quite a few years dreading it. This year, I got a new dress. I picked it out and bought it because the DR was always too busy to go with me to look. We went and bought the flowers and plants for the yard and garden. I sat through two disastrous soccer games, made all the more frustrating because- AYSO is supposed to be even teams- never is, and for Oldest, his teammates from the neighboring town who are not supposed to be playing AYSO are and they put it first over Comp. Pretty hard to get better if you never practice. Then the DR sent me to the bookstore to buy myself a gift from my children. He had spent the morning cooking a Mother's day breakfast with the bishopric that I didn't get to even eat, and mowing, aerating, and fertilizing the yard. I picked up a little plaque and had them wrap it so that was not done by me. The DR didn't get my dress wrapped, but I wanted to wear it to church, so I did. However, I did remember something that I purchased a while ago when it was on sale, and pulled it out so he could have the patients wrap it up for them to give to me. It is pretty tough to pretend lots of excitement and joy under the circumstances, especially when you hear your son ask his sister what it is. But, I do love them. Willow Tree figurines. I bought them two years ago and had different plans for them. I remembered their existence Sunday morning.
My day was less than stellar beginning with patient contention while trying to get ready for church. I did enjoy the talks at church, because the first one was the awesome anti-perfect mother talk given by our home teacher who is a single man who has never been married with children. His was almost as good as one the DR gave years ago. I had a really good conversation with a sister whose husband died tragically almost three years ago, and who recently married, divorced, and then re-married one of the single fathers in our ward. We talked about her step children and how their mother had called that morning, upset because they weren't with her on Mother's day. It was good to talk with her. I know her life has been so tough the last several years and that she has such a good heart. I hope they are able to get through the tough times and make it as a family this time.
After church, I saw I missed a call, and assuming it was from Outpatient, was surprised to hear Happy Mother's Day wishes from Dalton instead :). I tried to relax and read, but my body wanted to relax all the way to sleep :). The DR got back from his meetings, and he started to make dinner so we could take it up to his brother's house. I helped him, even though he kept trying to shoo me away. Cooking is therapeutic for me. I only oversaw Oldest make his first ever cookies from scratch. My beloved Outpatient called. He is doing well. I tried to call my mom- no answer. The DR tried to call his mom. Every way possible. No answer. Off we went to dinner and had a lot of good food, talked about their Missionary Mother's Day call.
My mood and emotions were getting better. Then the DR had me open my "gifts". I had seriously forgotten how awesome those figurines are. As I unwrapped the main box, the words held my attention. As did the smiling faces of my three local patients.
May is a tough month to get through. There are plenty of happy things like birthdays of loved ones, but there are also some tough, less than fun memories. In May, my Grandma A. finally succumbed to cancer. In May, I suffered my first miscarriage shortly before what would have been my first "Mother's Day". In May, my Grandma F suffered a stroke, which ended her life two months later. In May, my sister was diagnosed with breast cancer. In May, 22 years ago, my father was hit head on by a car while riding his motorcycle. This led to days of wondering if he would live, weeks of wondering if he would ever wake from the comma, then months of what will he regain in his abilities, then the years of hard stress and trauma of his head-injured state and all that comes with it- most often with little to no support from extended family and friends. He is hard. His life is hard.
May is full of busy, extra things to finish off the school year. May is Mother's Day. I am not a very big fan. I spent quite a few years dreading it. This year, I got a new dress. I picked it out and bought it because the DR was always too busy to go with me to look. We went and bought the flowers and plants for the yard and garden. I sat through two disastrous soccer games, made all the more frustrating because- AYSO is supposed to be even teams- never is, and for Oldest, his teammates from the neighboring town who are not supposed to be playing AYSO are and they put it first over Comp. Pretty hard to get better if you never practice. Then the DR sent me to the bookstore to buy myself a gift from my children. He had spent the morning cooking a Mother's day breakfast with the bishopric that I didn't get to even eat, and mowing, aerating, and fertilizing the yard. I picked up a little plaque and had them wrap it so that was not done by me. The DR didn't get my dress wrapped, but I wanted to wear it to church, so I did. However, I did remember something that I purchased a while ago when it was on sale, and pulled it out so he could have the patients wrap it up for them to give to me. It is pretty tough to pretend lots of excitement and joy under the circumstances, especially when you hear your son ask his sister what it is. But, I do love them. Willow Tree figurines. I bought them two years ago and had different plans for them. I remembered their existence Sunday morning.
My day was less than stellar beginning with patient contention while trying to get ready for church. I did enjoy the talks at church, because the first one was the awesome anti-perfect mother talk given by our home teacher who is a single man who has never been married with children. His was almost as good as one the DR gave years ago. I had a really good conversation with a sister whose husband died tragically almost three years ago, and who recently married, divorced, and then re-married one of the single fathers in our ward. We talked about her step children and how their mother had called that morning, upset because they weren't with her on Mother's day. It was good to talk with her. I know her life has been so tough the last several years and that she has such a good heart. I hope they are able to get through the tough times and make it as a family this time.
After church, I saw I missed a call, and assuming it was from Outpatient, was surprised to hear Happy Mother's Day wishes from Dalton instead :). I tried to relax and read, but my body wanted to relax all the way to sleep :). The DR got back from his meetings, and he started to make dinner so we could take it up to his brother's house. I helped him, even though he kept trying to shoo me away. Cooking is therapeutic for me. I only oversaw Oldest make his first ever cookies from scratch. My beloved Outpatient called. He is doing well. I tried to call my mom- no answer. The DR tried to call his mom. Every way possible. No answer. Off we went to dinner and had a lot of good food, talked about their Missionary Mother's Day call.
My mood and emotions were getting better. Then the DR had me open my "gifts". I had seriously forgotten how awesome those figurines are. As I unwrapped the main box, the words held my attention. As did the smiling faces of my three local patients.
Wow.
Then I pulled out the individual boxes.
A blessing of PEACE-
LOVE, everlasting and true-
JOY frees the spirit.
A reminder that I need to try harder to be better at these three things.
And, Joy truly does free the spirit.
P.S. just so you know, the DR is usually really good about taking care of special days. Most of the time, I am pretty spoiled.
