December 22, 2024 by hollyida

Gather All Around

This holiday season, I’m truly trying to enjoy all of the little moments and carve out time to spend with those that I love. I had the great fortune to spend an evening with three of my best friends recently. We had drinks, saw a play, ate snacks at one of my friend’s houses and reconnected after not being in the same room for nearly a year.

Last weekend, I wrapped and baked and cleaned and prepped for most of my immediate family to come to my house. I did it all beforehand so I could just drink, eat and be merry WITH them, instead of scurrying around the house doing whatever needed to be done. Next year I think we should scale it back even more and do even less beforehand.

And for the past week, my husband, son and I, have spent snippets of time together when we can. We had a movie night on Friday, dinner together tonight, and will spend Christmas Eve night and Christmas Day together. The guys are having an entire day together tomorrow while I’m at work, and I hope to snag the kid for an afternoon next weekend with just the two of us.

The three of us have become very aware that our everyday lives together is running short. We still argue and irritate one another, but we also forgive one another quicker than before. We apologize soon after whatever blowout we might have had. We don’t want there to be any bad feelings between us, even for an evening. I’m grateful for that.

My husband recently had chest pain while he was sleeping. It woke him up, but he ended up rolling over and going back to sleep. He hasn’t talked much about it, but to tell me it happened. And…I almost felt good that it happened to him. It gave me hope that he will get to have the death he’s always wanted–dying in his sleep. Yet at the same time, I felt this incredible rush of fear and grief, with a dash of anger. (Emotions are just wacky things, aren’t they?)

As prepared I’m trying to make myself, it’ll be scary when Wal dies (unless I die first). Especially if he does die in the night. A sudden death, even if expected, is still…unexpected. When my brother died, it was still shocking in a way. We knew it would happen and probably soon, but why now? He always came home from the hospital before, so why is this time different? The only way for the rest of us to survive anticipatory grief is to not fully accept reality.

But tonight, I’m not going to think about that. I’m going to finish reading my slightly steamy romance novel by the tv fireplace, have a glass of wine, and listen to the occasional laughter of my family in the other room. I’m going to enjoy these moments while they still exist.

Tell your friends and family you love them, folks. Let’s not have regrets if we can help it. ❤

Happy Holidays friends. I love you!

May 8, 2021 by hollyida

All the Days I Hate

In chronological order:

St. Patrick’s Day–I watched my father die that day.

Mother’s Day

May 23–Dad’s birthday

Father’s Day

June 20–My brother’s birthday

July 23–I said goodbye to my brother that day.

September 20–Mom’s birthday

October 4–I held my mother’s hand for the last time.

Someday, I hope I won’t dread some of these days. I hope that I won’t feel sick the entire week before or have the powerful urge to somehow escape my surroundings and my feelings and my brain on the day of. With Mother’s Day here, I am horribly conflicted. I have felt all those things this entire week and I had planned to do exactly what I did today–visit my mother’s grave so “we” could talk and eat and drink coffee. Just like we did every Saturday for the last two years of her life. And this morning after a meeting for work, I found myself antsy. I vacuumed and made blueberry muffins to take to Mom and just…puttered around the house, like Mom would say. I felt the overwhelming need to leave and go to her, but I kept pushing it off because it wouldn’t be the visit I wanted.

I finally did go. I packed up a bag with goodies and a blanket to sit on and I drove the back way to the cemetery in the town I grew up in. I passed houses that friends used to live in, including my own childhood home that is now abandoned. I saw new houses and roads that never existed before and wondered what my parents would have to say about them. Just like anytime I drive through my hometown, the memories came back–many good, many awful–and I grew angry at myself for driving this route. But once I got to the cemetery, my tension started to ease. I poured Mom a cup of coffee, gave her a muffin, and settled myself on a blanket in front of her. I talked about the pandemic, masks, our family, my friends. I asked her if she’s with Phil or my stepfather or my dad or Grammy. I prefaced that question with “So…if there IS an afterlife…” (What can I tell ya? I’m an agnostic which means I have no idea what the heck anything is or will be.) As I asked about our family, I started to cry and told her I missed her. Then I couldn’t stop crying. I rocked myself and said, “See Mom? THIS is why I try not to cry!” And as I’m writing this, I can hear Mom say, “Oh, I know, I know!” and almost feel her hug and hear her sniffle and wipe her nose.

But because it IS Mother’s Day, I want to celebrate my own motherhood. Sort of. I honestly just want to hide in a room for a day and drink cocktails and watch sad movies. But my son told me just this morning that he wants to make me dinner. My 14-year-old gentle giant of a boy, whom my mother adored more than any other person on the planet, has decided that he does indeed want to do something kind for his mother on Mother’s Day. (Last month he told me just to buy what I wanted for a gift and he’d pay for it—which is really me paying for it since he gets an allowance from me.)

A friend told me yesterday to try and do something for myself this weekend, like go for a run or have a drink or just do something to make me feel good. And I will. I hope to run on Sunday morning, eat brunch with my family, have a drink with a friend via Zoom, and eat dinner made by my child. All the while I will be thinking of Mom and her laugh and her raisin-filled cookies and her eerily strong grip. Seriously. This woman could break your bones with her hands if she wanted to.

I miss you, Mom. Every day.

Love you forever, love you for always.

December 19, 2018 by hollyida

Thank YOU

Let me first say that the reasons I blog are because I love to write what I want and I typically use this as a no-cost therapy tool. I vent my anger and frustration with the world. I grieve my brother’s death and my parents’ memory loss. I discuss my love (and hatred) of running and my continuous battle over my weight and my eternal body issues. BUT, I also like to use my blog to express my love and gratitude for particular people or things or situations.

My post last week brought a HUGE amount of love and support from my friends and family and I cannot begin to thank you enough. I had co-workers and friends and family members all bring us food we could freeze and put in our pantry, several friends gave me money to finish Christmas shopping for my son, and the amount of hugs and good thoughts and prayers were nearly innumerable.

I have been fortunate enough to surround myself and my family with so many wonderful, big-hearted people like yourselves. If you’re reading this, than more than likely we actually know each other–have met in person–and probably think highly of one another. Or I do you, at least. But if you’re reading this and have enjoyed what I’ve had to say and we don’t know each other, I certainly hope we meet someday. We need more love and friendship in our lives, don’t we? (Cue “All You Need is Love” by the Beatles.)

My husband is still looking for a job–it’s only been about 2 weeks–but we do have hope. We’re hopeful that this is just a bump in the road and we’ll be able to stay in our home, pay our bills and feed ourselves. We know we can’t live on love alone (that would be nice, wouldn’t it?), but with a little luck, we’ll be ok.

Thank you again, friends, for caring about me and my family. Your love, support and friendship is something I hope to never live without.