Bear Left, 2007, Oil on Panel, 16x20
I have never been much of a crier. In fact before I had my babies, I hardly ever cried. After my oldest was born, I could easily burst into tears during a car insurance commercial, I was so sensitive. Much of that has passed now, however, the last week's events has really put me back into new mommy territory again.
1. Obviously, finding out that my mother doesn't have much time left started it all off.
2. Telling my husband about that, over the phone, because he had just left town on a business trip. In fact, every time I told someone about it, I choked up. Poor UPS guy, surely he regrets asking me about my trip!
3. Random thoughts about what I would say to my mom when I'd see her.
4. Seeing my mom in the hospital, sitting up, wearing an orange baseball type cap. Actually, I cried and laughed a little at that sight.
5. Hearing that the miners in Utah hadn't been saved yet, on Wednesday night when I got to my hotel. And that it would be awhile before they could get to them.
6. Seeing my sister for the first time in nine years, got me a little teary eyed, but the make-up stayed on through that one. I am the big sis and didn't want to completely fall apart on her right away. Heh.
7. Both of us being hugged in my Uncle Jim's arms, at the same time, and the tears really poured out when he wouldn't let us go for a very long time. I don't think I have been hugged like that with my sister since maybe 1971.
8. Talking with everyone in the hospital room about how many people responded to my last blog post about my mother.
9. Having my last conversation with my mom and saying goodbye, for what I think is probably the last time. The details are personal, but I think you can all understand that one.
10. And then I cried again when I saw everyone crying when they saw me crying after I came out of her room. Kind of a round robin kind of cry I guess.
11. Later that night I welled up again at dinner while the mariachi band was playing us a beautiful song. Something about sitting there with my uncle, my sister, my husband on the last day I would see someone we all loved. That moment really got me.
I guess it's 11 things that made me cry. Or maybe even 154 if you count the fact that nothing much seems to make me cry lately too. Luckily, though I am still laughing and there was much of that in the last week as well. But I imagine there will be more crying ahead for me and for all of us. In fact, in writing this I find myself tearing up. I am overwhelmed by how many of you have offered us, a family that most of you have never met, your good wishes, sympathy and prayers. We all appreciate it so much and feel humbled by your kindness.
Thank you all so much.
17 comments:
12. Reading this post.
Ditto Meno.
Your mom's popping in here will be missed.
You and your family will continue to be in my thoughts through this difficult time.
Thanks again for the good thoughts all. My mom is still fighting, having decided to continue with chemo in the hopes that it will shrink the lung tumor again. If it does get smaller that may give her some more time, but of course it's hard to say what will happen.
Either way, I feel blessed that I had the chance to see her again and talk with her. And it was so wonderful for our family to all be together during this time.
I cried with you reading this posting. You are in my thoughts and prayers.
. . . passing you a kleenex - and thoughts of comfort
Peter, don't cry, if you do, I will start up again:)
Thanks Mary, hope it's a kleenex ghost, I like those:)
I think crying means God has actually gotten through to us. God Bless
Tracy -
I drop in from time to time to admire your work and endeavors. Found you through all the fab artist's links,and read on, looked at links and read on.
My words for you are -
when it rains, it pours...
but to me it's like perspiring.
it's supposed to be good for you...
but it feels so outta control.
My mom is on the verge - perhaps soon or in a year.
Anyway, my thoughts are with you
and yours.
Nina
Well if I was writing a similar list your post would feature. Your humanity is so moving.
Aside from being a painter I'd say you were a writer!
Many blessings Tracy.
Terry, I agree with you, and thanks again. You have been so comforting.
Nina, Your words are so beautiful, what a lovely little poem, and so true I think. Thanks so much and I am glad to know you are out there!
Thanks so much Elizabeth. Being a writer was one of my little daydreams once upon a time, not really for me now I think, but I am glad you think I can string a few sentences together!
FANTÁSTICO TU ARTE!!! EL COLOR Y LAS FORMAS. MUCHA ALEGRÍA Y NOSTALGIA A LA VEZ.
UN SALUDO
Well yes - I'm in the
12. reading this post list.
I shouldn't read blogs at work sometimes.
Tracy - I'm so sorry I'm behindhand with my blog reading and have only just caught up with what's happening in the lives of you and your mom and your family.
I lost an uncle six weeks ago. the 'not knowing for sure' aspect of 'how long' is just so awful for the family of a person who has terminal cancer. You steel yourself for every phone call - and it just gets so wearing.
The only really important thing now is that you have had a loving Mom who did her very best in bringing you up, took great interest in what you did and how you are doing and who has had the reassurance in her last days of knowing just much she has been loved by her family.
Now just stop hogging that Kleenex box and pass it over!
Turcios, I don't speak Spanish, but can understand just enough to catch your drift. Thanks so much for the kind words about my work.
Sorry, Lisa, hope the guys at work don't call you a girly girl or anything:)
Katherine, no apologies necessary, I am way behind on reading blogs myself. Thanks so much for your comforting words, and you are so right. The "not knowing for sure" is very hard and I cringe a little whenever the phone rings.
my last name is helgeson too. are we related?
Anonymous, well, if you or any of your relatives originates from SE Minnesota, then it's entirely possible. Email me privately if you like.
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