Tuesday

I wish I had something entertaining to write about tonight but I really don't think I do.  Maybe I'll just ramble for a few minutes.  I'm sure you are all used to that, anyway, right?  :)

It's been three weeks since my dad passed away.  Three weeks tonight.  I've had a really rough couple of days emotionally and I find I still can't quite grasp the fact that my parents are no longer living.  I have these moments of panic when I think "But wait!  I need to ask you about....." or "Can you tell me how you handled this whole grown up thing because I think I'm sucking at it.  How in the world did you raise FIVE kids?  My two, plus one, drive me to the brink of all that is good and holy more days than not.  HOW did you do this?  Were there some day when you wanted to smack us clean into tomorrow?  Did you watch us sleep and wonder how you got so lucky?  Did you hold us close and smell that amazing child scent that is full of wonder and mischief?  Did you cry when we said mean and terrible things to you?  Did you cry yourselves to sleep some nights, sick with worry for our future?  Did you question every choice you made?  Every choice we made?  How did you survive us?"

But I know, even if they were both still alive, that I would never get the answers that my heart seems so desperately to know.  My mom's brain disease (PLS) would prevent her from being the mom I need.  My dad's stroke from long ago had prevented him from answering the handful of questions I posed over the past five years, as parenting became more challenging.  He couldn't remember and I could tell it would frustrate him that he didn't have the answers I sought.  So, I stopped asking.

And now, I have no chance to ask.  I know it's life.  I know lots of people lose their parents at my age, or younger.  I know many of us are raising children without benefit of the generational knowledge that came before us.  We all manage to muddle through.  It's just the past few days I have really wanted and needed the wisdom and guidance.  The assurance that the kids will be ok - that I will be ok.  That change, while at times more difficult that I can say, is a good thing and everything will be great.

The changes I am making in my life are huge.  Daunting.  Amazing.  Wonderful.  Terrifying.  Every emotion possible, I am experiencing it.  Kelton made a comment this afternoon that his leg hurt and he thought he was having growing pains.  I sighed and said "Yeah - I think I am, too."  He said "You are?  I thought you weren't growing anymore."  "I think I'm having emotional and mental growing pains.  And I bet that it hurts as much as your leg does."  He nodded and said "Probably."

Change is hard for me.  It's hard for most everyone but right now I go back and forth between full speed ahead and "Holy crap!  Slow down!"  I feel bi-polar. :)

I'm happy and excited and sad and terrified. All at the same time.  Closing chapters in the book of my life has its stumbling blocks and yet I know....I KNOW....that I am making a good, sound and love-filled choice.  And even though it is something I want very much, it is hard.

But that's the nature of life, you know?  Nothing is constant but change.

I think it would be a whole lot easier if I wasn't balancing the needs, wants, heartbreak and excitement of two little ones.  But I am.....and I very much want them to see the changes that they don't want to have to go through to be the best changes possible and ones they will look back on and say "You were right, Mom.  Everything really is great and I am so happy in this new world."

And this is where having my parents reassure me that the kids will be ok...that I will be ok...would be really good.