This isn't news to me. I don't think it should be news to anyone who has met me. It was particularly obvious this morning when I realized I was still in bed at 10:30 am. I attribute my sluggishness more to having stayed up until 2 am for the past few mornings than to the chemo. Of course, it might be a symptom of being sad or depressed. I really miss having hair, even if it only takes me a tenth of the time in the morning. I don't want my old companion Depression to stick around. I like to think of myself as having beaten back that cloudiness... even if it takes the help of E.Fexor.
Real women know that self-care includes adequate sleep, water, nutritious food,etc. etc. Recently I've been more into comfort than care, and I can't tell whether it is a good thing or not. Last night I had many wonderful few hours of being in the FLOW zone when I was using photoshop to paint AGING for illustrationfriday.com. THAT was fun. But that's why I was up til all hours.
And after I finished the "painting" my 23 year old son came on IM. His spelling tipped me off to his inebriated state.I have such mixed feelings about it. He's in college-- I know drinking is as much a recreation as anything else. (He's at a #1 party school, besides.) I never drank on weekdays and feel myself comparing my life to his. My parents were drunk many days and many nights (but never so publicly as typing on IM!! and so I'm extra sensitive to see it in another generation.
But what made me saddest was him telling me how sad he was looking at the picture I sent of him in my "chicken feathers" state... i.e., nearly bald. I don't want to make my kids sad. And then he said he was sad because he was realizing that I wasn't invincible. That scrambled my emotional direction-finder.
How sweet that he EVER thought I was invincible!
How sweet that he still wanted me to be invincible, immortal, etc. (In contrast, I mostly wished MY mom would just "go away"... which of course landed me on a slippery slope many times.)
How intensely I remember discovering that loved (or merely known) people could die unexpectedly.
How sad that I can't promise to live forever.
I don't think anybody or anything can prepare you for that realization.
I am confident that he will come to understand that nothing stays the same forever . . .It's painful to watch my children struggle with their experiences. Sometimes I wonder if it would be different if their world hadn't cracked when their dad and I divorced. Had he and I stayed together, I think it would have caused different wounds and hurts... and perhaps even deeper ones. I don't know where all the tender, bruised places are in their psyches.
And I have to leave it up to them to protect those spots, heal them and press on. That's just how it is.
Sigh.
2 comments:
Eh, we don't know where all those spots are either, Mooms. And I have said for years, and still say, that the divorce was the best thing that happened to all of us. I would NOT exchange dealing with split time, balancing vacations, etc with the fact that now you are friends with a) yourself and b) your kids in ways that I don't think would have happened otherwise. Come on, you can't have wanted the easy way over the happier way, right? :)
And it IS hard to realize that your Mama isn't going to be around forever. I want you to meet your grandkids and whoever it is that I end up with, and Brother's future kids, and see my first house, and all of that stuff. And I am not even close to being near any of those things...
And as for being sad...you are not responsible for how other people feel. Right? And it WAS hard to see the pictures, mainly because you've been so fiesty and brave that seeing you look a little weaker was a big shock. At least to me. Anyway. Wow. Long comment.
Your kids love you. We worry about you. Just like you worry about us. We're old(er). It's more a two way street, lady. Deal with it. :) ((big big hugs))
Sigh. Great post!
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