April 9thI wonder if there will be a year that will finally arive when I don't look at this day on a calendar and break into tears as I see it is coming up.
This week's topic has had me thinking, what is an ideal day for me?
With school, work, a husband, a teenage daughter, homework, writing, editing, housework, revisions, graphics to do, websites to update, and so on and so forth, what is my idea of an ideal day?
Then I look at the calendar again, and start crying.
Why?
Because two years ago today I lost my mother-in-law. And while I know I should have not gotten along with her so well, since my husband was the baby of the family, she often told him if it came down to me or him, she'd keep me.
God how I loved that woman. How I still love her. How I wish I had told her so many things, the first of which is my big secret - I write!
She died not knowing my greatest secret, my passion. I write erotic romance. She died without sharing the joys of my little hobby ... because I also feared her responce. I feared the dissapointment and the rejection that might come ...
She will never see my graduate, never hug me again. Never see my daughter do so many things ... Already, the memories my daughter has of her are fading.
I want to say so very much that my ideal day is being able to sit and write when I want, to watch TV with my family, to simply enjoy life as it comes without having to be aware of the ticking of the clock and where we all need to be at certain times. To live each moment like it might be my last.
But in the end, it all comes back to one thing. My ideal day is to not feel this damnable void inside of me, the longing to pick up the phone and bitch to her about my classes, or to hear her scandalized voice when she tells me about the latest news article about just where people are getting pierced, or to have her whisper softly "are you and my son swingers?"
I can go several days at a time now, without forgetting. I used to not make it a day. I'd dial her number to talk to her about classes or whatever was on my mind, before the pain hit - she's gone.
I was never really close to my mother. Screw oil and water. She and I are like ammonia and bleach - apart we are fine, together we are toxic. To each other, and to everyone around us.
But my mother-in-law was different, and I resent not having more time with her. I hate the world that so many who are truly evil still live and she, who was a nurse, a loving wife and mother, and a woman who lived to laugh and who never hurt a dang person, is gone.
So my ideal day ...
Yeah, it's not to feel this pain inside, that is so deep it has become a permenant part of me.
But I also don't want to forget ...
So I let the tears fall as they must, and I remember the laughter, and the joy and the sorrow and the pain.
I hope my ideal day never comes.
Michelle,
ReplyDeleteYour mother-in-law sounds like a special person: the sort of person who can make a day ideal whether they're with you or otherwise.
It's heartening to read of someone treasuring such fond memories. It's also heartening to read about someone who inspires such blatant love.
Thank you for sharing this with us.
Sincerely,
Ash
I'm all verklmept. What a lovely post.
ReplyDeleteAsh - Thanks hon. She really was a special lady. And the stories I could tell you. LOL It's hard though. She died 11 days before my 10th wedding anniversary. She would have made so many jokes on my anniversary, since bets were made among the family over how long hubby and I would last. She always got a kick when the 20th would roll around and we would get the calls from hubby's brothers. LOL
ReplyDeleteKathleen - Thanks so much. It helps to remember her, and to share her. I wish you all could have met her. She might not have understood why we write what we do, but she would have certainly given us all things to talk about.
Your mother-in-law sounds like a real treasure.
ReplyDeleteTo keep my late mother-in-law alive for my children, I often tell them stories (while we're traveling in the car) that she'd told us. They now know how she told her husband either marry me or get out, that she was a feminist before her time and the discord she witnessed when her Protestant father married the daughter of a Catholic Potato Famine refuge. Every time I tell one of her stories I hear her laughing and I know she's not really gone.
Michelle, dear,
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely post! That kind of love is a blessing -- but terribly hard to lose.
My dad died two years ago. I never told him about my writing either. I was so tempted...but I thought it might make him uncomfortable, and I'd never want to do that. Now he'll never know...
Sending you a big hug,
Lisabet
Had to stop by just say what a heartwarming post that was.
ReplyDeleteShe does sound like she was a very special lady.
Take care, hugs.
Sassy
Alternative-Read.com
I know what you mean about your mother in law not knowing what you write. My family still doesn't know.
ReplyDeleteAnd it is funny how some people can fill that role better in one's life than the original parent. I know that one too.
Garce
Lisabet -- Thanks luv. And hugs to you for your loss of your father.
ReplyDeleteSassy -- Thank you so much. It was hard to write, but I needed to say it. At her funeral I could form the words that I wanted to say. They just wouldn't come.
Garce -- Indeed. Some families we are born in to, and other we find or create. I am a better person for having had her in my life.
Michelle
Well said Michelle, and I can't improve on any of it, but just wanted to add my cyber hugs to the bunch. Dates like that are so emotional.
ReplyDelete