Saturday, March 9, 2013

Are You My Mother?

I have always loved mornings. When my kids were little, I’d wake up an hour or so earlier than they did, just so I could have some quiet time to myself before all the busyness started for the day. And a cup or two of uninterrupted coffee. I still do that. Mornings are my time. Time when I can pray and try to sort through the chaotic, rambling thoughts spinning around my head. Maybe I need more than an hour.

I do not like Saturday mornings any more. Jillian died on a Saturday morning. Ten weeks ago today. I wake up now, on Saturdays, and I watch the clock. I relive every single minute of that last morning with her. Those moments are forever seared into my brain. Once 7:30 am passes, I breathe easier.

A dear friend of mine commented that I must have nightmares reliving what she endured. I try not to go to that place too often quite yet. Memories are sneaky though, they can appear unexpectedly. But even though some of those memories are unpleasant or painful, they are still precious treasures.  I have my own personal treasure box just jammed packed with gems waiting for me to open and examine. Some sparkle so brightly, I’m blinded by their light.  Others are scarred and caked with mud. I think with time, my handling them will polish them so they too, sparkle and shine. Just like Jillian did. My precious Jewel.

This week, as I’ve been trying to sift through my thoughts, I’ve been reminded lately of a favorite childhood book that Josh and I shared. “Are You My Mother?”. We would giggle together each time I read that book. We seem to share that same quirky sense of humor. Especially the Snort part. Another precious gem.


With my memories and my new life, I’m learning that I’m not the same person anymore. Cancer changes you forever. Whether you are the one with the disease, a family member or a friend, you just aren’t the same. How can you expect to be?  I had this conversation with Josh last week. His reply to my declaration was, “ We are always changing, mom. Life’s circumstances are constantly changing and we change with them. “ So, there you have it. I guess it isn’t so confusing after all is it?  Our lives change, we change with it. 

I’m not sure who I’ll end up being. I guess I don’t really need to know.  But I do know I’ll always have my faith, my children, my family,  and my wonderful supportive friends to share in the constantly evolving person I’ll become.

Who knows? Maybe I’ll end up being that Snort after all. And I’m okay with that.

Peace~

3 comments:

  1. Beautifully spoken, as always. Yes, we change and evolve constantly through our lives. We are affected by the good times and the bad. The trick is to learn to roll with the flow. And lean on our family and friends when we need to.

    Peace, love, hugs, and prayers to you, my dear friend. You have amazing strength, and will continue to evolve as a beautiful,strong woman. Jillian is looking down on you, and she is proud.

    Love you,

    Barbara

    ReplyDelete
  2. So glad that you came over to spend time with me today. I hope we made your Saturday better. You know you are always welcome. Love you.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I stumbled across your page for Jillian on Facebook, and just read your blog from start to finish.

    1) I am so, so sorry for your loss. The strength you exude is unimaginable, but I know the hole your sweet girl left is astronomical. It breaks my heart in half to think of what your family has gone through.

    2) I will never step foot into a tanning bed again. My girls, when they are old enough to think about it, will not step foot into a tanning bed as long as I am able to make that choice for them. Your sweet girl's battle was not in vain, because I know other followers of her journey feel the same.

    I will fall asleep tonight praying for your family: for peace, healing, and a meaningful, successful campaign against melanoma in honor of Jillian. God bless you all in enormous ways!!

    Big hugs to you and yours.

    ReplyDelete

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.