The Crying Runner~& My Mom. Sorry it's a bit long.

I went jogging yesterday after I laid Pace down for his nap. It's always a break when I can go by myself with no jogging stroller.  Rich came home early because he had to do a lovely conference call meeting to the US until 11PM. This was because of the time difference. He never had to work that late since we moved here.

I set out for my run to do a measly 4 miles without Pace. I was doing great a couple months ago running 10 miles at a time and wanted to do another half marathon this fall. My stupid foot had me turn around early and I only got 3.5 miles in. I know when I can push past the pain, but lately I haven't been able to with my foot pain. It feels like it's getting worse and it makes me so frustrated. 

I set off running and it was beautiful. I could've gone without my jacket but I wore it anyways which I ended up tying around my waist mid-run because I got hot. I saw many ladies out enjoying the day. Ladies having a little snack on a bench by the Rhine River, ladies walking alone. Some ladies walking their dogs together.  For some reason, it got me thinking about my momma. I was thinking how I'll never have that with her. I'm far away from home to even have anything close like that with the rest of my family too. I think this has to be the hardest thing about being away from my family.

Most of you know that shortly after my mom got ill (she had a brain tumor), I got out of the Navy and we went to live with my parents. For Richie and I, especially after owning our own home, it was a total hit on our pride..."Hey! We're moving in with the parents!", but that's what the family needed at the time. I was the only one who had the ability to help because I stayed at home with the kids, we were able to move, and we were just easy about where we were going to live. So we set off from Georgia, packed up our things and moved to Michigan... and in with my parents in the summer of 2004. 

My dad was an amazing and generous 'room-mate' if I can use that term loosely. :) Richie always tells people that if he had to live with someone else he was glad that it was 'Dave'...even though he went like two years calling him, 'hey man' cuz he wasn't sure what to call him. Dave...dad. lol. 'Hey Man' works I guess. He literally gave us half the house to use at our disposal. Our own living room, three bedrooms on the opposite end of the house and our own bathroom. It was ideal for our circumstances.

The surgeries for my mom kept coming after the onset of radiation necrosis (dying dead cells because of the radiation). She had 6 or 7 brain surgeries in total to remove dead cells. She had way too much radiation and it was also misdirected. She couldn't talk and she couldn't walk. She eventually had to use a feeding tube because of her high risk for aspiration (choking). She needed care 24 hours a day. My dad was the sole care-giver but because he worked during the day, I stayed at home with her (and with our little kids). Josiah was only 19 months when we moved there, and I was pregnant with Elee.  Although I wouldn't change taking care of my mother for anything, I probably would've done it differently. I would've asked friends and family for more help. Some never offered, some did. Sometimes I actually took people up on their offers. Sometimes.  But not often.

I can remember a couple people who cared enough to come over and help... or just to sit with me or to share in a book study or Bible study with me. These memories will be forever stored in my heart and for those few, I'm so grateful.  It was so hard being a young parent, and having to take care of a parent. And on top of that, I literally couldn't leave the house. I was trapped with two little kids and confined to the house.  I rarely made play~dates unless it was people coming to our side of town and they could come visit us. I felt alone. A lot. My husband was going to school full time working hard to get his Engineering degree plus he was working a full time job at Walmart at the beginning. Eventually he got some internships, but he was still doing full time school and work in the city of Detroit. I was always thankful even then for a hard working husband. Some woman can only dream of that.

I understand that many people didn't know how to help. Especially, people didn't know how to be around someone with these disabilities. It can be very awkward when you're not around it day after day. What do you say? What do you do? It can be hard to relate when you're not living it or haven't lived it. I have friends who have children with disabilities and I know they feel alone at times too. Alone in their desperate need for people just to listen. Needing people to think they are not crazy. Needing people just to be there.  Needing friends and family to reach out and help them. 

I am thankful for my dad who came home at lunch time everyday. I'd call him often at work and when he would answer the phone he always sounded happy to talk to me. Even if I was calling him everyday. Even if I was calling for him to pick up lunch on the way home. Thankfully he worked only 5-10 minutes from the house. And if I felt alone, I always thought of my dad. He didn't have my mom to talk with, only to talk to. I still had my mate to talk with at night before bed, when we share about all life's problems and struggles.  My dad had no one. She still had her sparkle in her eye, but she could never talk back! It was so frustrating and just writing this I'm getting tears gracing my face and I get angry. Angry...still?! And Sad! Honestly I can't think of the words. The sadness that she couldn't eat what we were eating because she could be only fed from the tube because she literally couldn't swallow. The late nights my dad had with sometimes no sleep. Towards the end, we had to suction her so she wouldn't choke. There were many times my dad would get up in the middle of the night to suction her. There are so many details to this story. So many details people will never know except me, or maybe my dad, maybe Richie. But even then, the reality is that no one ever sees or will see things from the perspective that you have lived.  Unless they have lived it.

When I look back, it's a crazy world of mixed emotions...still. Maybe writing this all down will be some sort of therapy for me. I freely talk about it when I need to, but maybe there is something to the writing part. 

When I look back, I get angry. Angry at the people in our lives that were too busy to help. I pray to God to continue to work in me forgiveness and to take away that bitterness. Psalm 51:11 Create in me a clean heart, O God! And renew a right spirit within me. Psalm 51:17 The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite (repentant) heart, O God, you will not despise.

When I look back, I get pissed that not even the people close to me will truly understand the struggles I had during that time. I'm still a WIP (work in progress) on that as well. 

When I look back, I'm reminded of the people who graciously did help. Even people with children and busy lives of their own. And I'm so thankful for God planting them in our lives at that time.

When I look back, I see a struggling mama, who could only cry on her mama's bed and get no answer....just a gentle stroke to her hair, and the twinkles of her own mothers eyes. At that time, it was more than enough.

When I look back, I see my children watching their mother. Being busy. All the time. Sometimes too busy for them.

When I look back, I see my children, husband, and dad thinking I'm crazy for staying up late and spending my time playing Bejeweled Blitz.

When I look back, I feel guilty about how I felt so stretched that I had nothing good to give to anyone.

When I look back, I am thankful that my kids got to see that you take care of family.

When I look back, I am glad that I got to be there all those moments for my mother when she needed it, who selflessly took care of me and my brothers and sister when we were younger.

When I look back.  

And then we guilt people into thinking looking back is bad. That it's bad to bring up the difficult memories of the past. But I feel it's all part of the process of letting go. Day by day. One day at a time. 

Looking back just to look back and have pity on yourself is one thing. But, when you look back to move forward...there's healing that takes place. And forgiveness that has to happen. Forgiveness to let go of all the bitterness and anger.  

She died at home in the summer of 2008. In my dad's arms. With most of us there at the home. And it was peaceful. As peaceful as it could be.

So, back to my running... again. I totally started thinking of all these things and more during my run.  All the pain my mom went through. All the suffering. All the hard times, the good, and the bad times. The depression I struggled with after having our son, Elee, was born. The struggle with my faith in God.  The depression while I was pregnant with Luna. I'm sure a lot of it was circumstantial,  but none the less, it was depression. Struggling to raise healthy and happy kids and give them your undivided attention is one thing. How can you do it with depression, hormone changes and taking care of your mother? I sometimes get myself caught up in the anger of it all. I know I need to let go. And I do. One day at time and only with the Lord's help. I find it resurfacing at times which must be normal becomes it happens and hits me out of nowhere, like during my run the other day. I starting crying. Tears flowing down my face, throat closing up kind of crying...while I was running. Wishing I could just walk along the river with my mom. Wishing we could share lunch together and we could talk about all the things of life. Wishing I could talk to her about her grandsons and her granddaughter and how they are doing in school and share in their achievements. 

This is my reality. 

And then I heard the birds singing their song,  the ducks flying overhead near the water, and felt what was left of the warm sun air, and I come back to realizing that life goes on.  It really does. I think I'll be sorting all these emotions out until the day that I die honestly. I'll always miss my mom. And she'll forever be in my heart and a part of me. God bless the memories of her, and may she forever be in our hearts. And may I pass down her legacy of loving my kids like she loved us. Not perfectly, but selflessly....with a wild heart and lots of love to give. 

Dad, Mom Andy (the baby)
Clinton, Aaron, Laura, Me

My mom with Josiah! This was the first time he 'laughed'! My mom was visiting us in Georgia. She found out about her brain tumor 6 months later.