Really?

I've been helping my dad sort out my mom's finances, which sucks.
I just got the bills for the surgery she didn't survive.

I want to call these people and just BITCH THEM FUCKING OUT.

"Really, you want to get money for the so called "routine surgery" that KILLED my mother!? Really?"

Aaaaaaaargh.

Yea, I know that won't help. But good God, the urge. The insensitivity of it. Just unbelievably ridiculous.

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What to say

As you probably noticed, I haven’t posted much in the way of words since my mother died. The truth is my muse for this site in many ways was my mother. Now that she’s gone I just stare at this page with an awful hole in my heart and tears in my eyes. Posting a picture is as much as I can do. You don’t have to think. You just slap a URL in there and everyone’s happy.

Honestly my mom and I haven’t, or, hadn’t...(these god-damned tense changes are killing me) been close in years, which is something I’ve struggled with it. If I really think about what blogging meant to me it was often about trying to offer bits of my life up to my mother as a way of connecting. It didn’t work for a long time though. She didn’t check the site very often – mostly when my sister was visiting and reminded her -- but still, every once in a while she did and her occasional posted responses encouraged me.

That changed dramatically when Audrey was born. Suddenly I could see her checking the site daily. And we talked more. At least once or twice a week. We were connecting about something we mutually loved, which was Audrey. I was happy about that. I hope she was happy about that too. I think she was. When I went through her things after she died, I found she had printed pictures of Audrey from the site which made me sob, but was also very gratifying.

I mourn her as my mother, but I am deeply saddened by the loss of what could have been. I saw glimpses of it in those last weeks, and it cuts me to the core that I won’t get to continue that conversation with her. I won’t get to ask if, like Audrey, I refused to nap at 10 weeks old. I won’t get to have her come visit and babysit. She won’t be able to tell me stories of how she managed to raise my sister, brother and me, and work, and make dinner every night. There will be no secrets and tips from the incredible woman who raised me. And with her death being sudden and unexpected there was no way to even try at a mad dash to gather that kind of info.

Kind people keep telling me to just focus on Audrey to help me get through this. In some respects that’s a truth. When she smiles at me I melt and manage to forget the ache for a moment, which is nice. But the dirty horrible deeper truth is looking to Audrey regularly for distraction and relief has been more painful than you can imagine. I can’t help but look at her and think about mothering, and the mother-daughter relationship, and that inevitably brings me to mom. Its especially painful at night when I try to rock her back to sleep in the dark. With no distraction I often find myself thinking of this entire fucked up situation and crying. And now I’m getting angry that that’s been my experience in this precious cocoon period of having a newborn. I shouldn’t be rocking her and crying.

So I haven’t been writing. Because I am a mess.

I am thankful for friends and family who are brave enough to go to my messy places with me and love me through this terrible time. And I am profoundly grateful for my husband, who hasn’t let go of my hand or turned away once in the face of his wife’s frightenly sad grief. If you want to talk about what has pulled me through this, it’s him. He has become the king of listening, distraction and laughter. All while caring for the baby and me with a grace and love that I’ve never seen in him before, but am not at all surprised by.

Today’s our 12 year anniversary actually, which is what brought me back here to my desk. It’s my appreciation and ridiculous love for him that gave me the courage to push through this morning and actually type.

Happy Anniversary J. And thank you. The day I married you was the most important day of my life, and the best decision ever. With you by my side I can get through this. I love you with all my heart and soul.

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Just sixteen days...

since my last update and yet so so much has happened...

Grandma Anderson passed away on Feb. 7th. Jane was a devoted wife, a loving mother, an indulgant grandma, and a proud great-grandmother. She also had a great gift for crochet, a wicked sense of humor, a love of dancing, and the instincts of a classic and true matriarch -- to feed and worry about the well-being of every member of her clan (especially the boys.)

She'll most certainly be remembered through her recipes, but we will also miss her every time we wrap ourselves in the warmth of her hand-made blankets. Or find one of her "hug coupons" in our scrapbooks.

Before she passed, Grandma told us how happy she was that we were such a "great couple" and she knew she didn't have to worry about us. Just a few days after her service -- on the 15th -- we celebrated our 10th anniversary. As the day passed by, I thought of her and her comment more than a few times. I take a lot of comfort from that approval. After all, she was the Anderson family matriarch, and she knew a thing or two about love - she and grandpa were married 66 years.

So in her spirit -- here it is -- we're shooting for at least 56 more. I think it's the best way to honor her (and Grandpa), and I know she won't mind when we break her record.

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Not my best birthday.

I'm sick with a really awful cold, and the Bears just lost the Superbowl.

If it weren't for the yummy piece of chocolate cake I had a halftime this whole day would be utterly pathetic.

That's the magic of chocolate cake, people.

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