I know. You want to sing it, don’t you? It’s ok. You can.
This morning started out as a typical Sunday morning. I slept a little late, watched a bit of tv with my boy, baked breakfast cookies for the week and started laundry. After a while, I decided I didn’t want to go out and walk on this dreary day, so I started to move furniture in the living room so I could work out there. I had to move my body but nothing too strenuous. As I was moving the hassock, my husband asked me a question. I started to answer, then stopped. I tried to take a breath then apologized to my husband and started to sob. He ran over to me and hugged me and just let me cry.
I had this sudden feeling of powerlessness and loss and sorrow. My mom is about to go through a pretty intense operation on Tuesday to help her circulation in her left leg. It’s a tough thing for anyone to go through, but a 71-year-old woman with a frail body and mind? It’s even tougher. I’m scared for her. I’m scared for us. I think she’ll make it through the surgery, but her mind might not. Will she know my sister and I when she wakes up? Will she know her son is gone? I don’t know.
I was missing my brother this morning, too. In the fall and winter, nearly every other Sunday my brother stopped by my house to have tea while I baked something. He would tease my son or chat with him while I washed dishes. I’d lean on one side of the counter while he sat on the other and we’d munch on goodies and talk about our week. Eventually we’d head into the living room and continue our conversation. It was a part of my week I always looked forward to.
I miss him so fucking much.
I wish he’d be at the hospital with us while we wait for Mom’s surgery to be over. He’d make us laugh and just be there. His presence just made me feel better. He’s part of my home.
After crying in my husband’s arms for a few minutes, I walked about the house and realized I just needed to be outside. So I slipped my headphones on, told my family I was going for a run and left. This is only the third run I’ve been on in the past month, but it felt ok. It was really difficult and I trudged more than I ran, but I refused to walk. I needed to sweat out some of this anxiety and sadness and just plant one foot in front of the other. So I did. And it was ok. I felt better than I had when I left my house. So that’s something.
On a side note, if you read my last post, you know I’m trying to get a counselor/therapist/someone to talk to. It hasn’t happened yet. I did make a few calls, finally got an appointment, but then cancelled it. Our electricity (like many in Maine) had been out for a few days last week and I couldn’t deal with doing one more thing. And no, I didn’t reschedule yet. I need to get Mom through her surgery and then we need to take life day by day after that. Am I making excuses? Probably. But the thought of adding one more thing to my life at this moment makes me want to pull my hair out. And I like my hair. So this will have to wait. For now.
If you’re feeling particularly generous or positive or hopeful on Tuesday morning, try to send a little of that my mom’s way, ok? I know she’s a tough ol’ bird, but a little extra optimism wouldn’t hurt.
See Holly Run 
I’ll be praying for your mom and sending positive energy your way. Know that Phil will be there with you , maybe not the way you’d like, but he will be watching out for her during surgery. He will be there for all of you. I don’t remember if I already told you this or not, being the old fart I am(lol). I have some psychic ability. Usually , when someone I love passes away, I’ve used the flashlight method, at night in the dark, to contact them, and almost every time, I just say if so and so is here , can you ..and the flashlight goes on full force. I’ll ask questions and have them make it dimmer or brighter for yes or no and ask yes and no questions and tell them how I miss them. Well, a while after Phil passed, I tried it and the light went bright immediately. I asked him to dim the light some and he did, and then asked if he liked what I wrote for you to send to the publisher, and it went bright. I had him dim it lower and asked him a question that none of the others would answer. I said,” Phil, is Heaven really as beautiful and peaceful as they say it is?” The light went bright. I said, ” and this coming from someone who didn’t believe in God or Heaven for years.” The light flickered rapidly like he was laughing. After about 20 minutes of talking to him and asking him questions, I told him I had to go to bed and would he turn out the light for me. Usually they gradually dim the light until there is a pinpoint of light or it goes out. I give them the chance to do it, so I’m not just shutting them down. Phil wasn’t having any of it, and kept me on for another 15 minutes, before I tried again and had to tell him I was shutting it off and he was welcome to come back the next time I did it. I haven’t done it since, but will talk to him Tuesday night to see if he was there with you or not. If he does not answer me, I will know he is still with you and not available. If you ever want to come by for a reading, I will try my best to contact him, and convey things that only you’d know about to affirm that he is with us. Sometimes it works quickly and other times not as clear. I haven’t honed it like the pros on TV and just can’t walk up to anybody and give a reading. Although I did do that to a lady in Wal-Mart once and was very accurate. I’ve also done readings on the phone and in person , when I only knew the person’s first name and amazed myself with what came up. So when you’re ready , you are welcome to do so, it has helped many people, to get over things and might help you. If you’d feel better having someone else come as well, that’s fine too. I’m open to reading more than one, If the person calls me so I can hear them say their name , I can start getting things coming in before they even get here. Otherwise I have to work once you’re here. I don’t charge any money. A friend set me up with her friend and told me to charge her and even though I had the whole reading written down 5 minutes after hearing her voice, and then brought in more stuff when she was here and all very accurate, I felt terrible after she left. I feel it’s a gift from God, and not something I should be making money on. I had a famous psychic once tell me , when I started picking up on her during my reading, that I could make a lot of money doing it and it never tempted me. Know I pray for you all every night and love you all.
I’m agnostic, so I don’t believe in much because I can’t prove anything either way. And reading what you wrote confuses me and made me cry more. And I know my wish will never come true, the way I want it to, but I’ll take whatever I can get. I plan to wear one of his old shirts on Tuesday, just to have a part of him there, you know? Thanks for your kind words, Pat.
Oh, Holly. That’s intense. You probably know this: “The cure for anything is salt water – tears, sweat, or the sea. ” —Isak Dinesen [Karen Blixen]. Your post is incredible and vulnerable and moving, and really well written to boot!
Anyway, as you wrote of two of the three forms of salt water, I wanted to share on the very slight chance you hadn’t heard that quip.
Sending love to you and your whole family.
Thanks so much, Holly. I have heard that saying before, but haven’t heard it in a long time. I love it. Thank you.
I am listening to CARIBBEAN QUEEN by Billy Ocean as I read this. Total coincidence. The man is underrated.
Also! I have the number of a GREAT person to talk to in Portland ME if you want it. Seriously…she saved my life and saved my marriage.
Thanks, Justin. First, I love Billy Ocean! Second, I appreciate the recommendation. Portland is a bit far for me but I’m sure I can find someone closer. You’re a good guy. Thanks for always listening.