Who Knew?

Hey, Mom.

How's Heaven these days? Hanging with Dad? Dancing? Have you by way of chance bumped into Tracye Ford Sellers or Ann Earnest? Two of my favorite people in this life, taken away too soon, like you. Please tell them hello for me.

I'm just writing to say I had a eureka moment today! I've had others but I wanted to share this one. Felt like getting it off my chest. For some reason I only write in this blog when I'm sad or have had a thought-provoking experience. I prefer belly laughs, a positive outlook and good humor, but what the hell (or Heaven), right?

I guess you found out after making it to the feet of Jesus that I used to avoid spending time with you as a teenager and in my early 20s. Honestly, you picked on me a fair amount and I had little patience for it. Time has sifted the yuk and left for me only the twinkling eyes, infectious laughter and compassion for all around you. But you could be a pill, and so could I, so I wanted to be with Betsy, Lauren, Lisa and my other gal pals instead. Even when you were sick with cancer, even when I was working at Dow, I'd make the two-hour drive to Rochester Hills and go first to my friends' houses, spending the night with them before the next day when I'd see you. I thought you'd live forever--silly me.

Fast forward 30+ years and damn, how I regret it. They say that youth is wasted on the young, and without question "they," whoever they are, are right. Thirty years later I wish I knew more...about how you maintained your laughter in the face of adversity, how you made those ravioli just right, how you managed depression without pills (well, we all like to eat in our family), how you put up with Dad's moods and made it through to the end, fighting and trying and hoping and praying and holding on for everything it was worth. Jo-Ann said you could hear us in the end; I hope this is true. I hope you heard in the end how much I loved you. Jo-Ann also says a dream informed her you're painting on a beach and Dad comes by to visit. I don't like that vision, really, although it brings her peace. I think you're dancing and laughing and Dad is kissing you on the lips while you giggle and push him away, saying "You crazy man!" This is the mom my memory has sifted and left for me; the mom I wish to remember.

So my eureka moment: Who knew?!! My kids don't want to spend time with me. Mackenzie's a different story, of course, but the teenagers have other things to do. You were so needy of my time in the end and before I knew better, and it was SO annoying. Yet today, a beautiful, sunny fall day--Chris being in Taiwan again and me being here with them all...they'd rather do anything else than watch a Halloween movie or take a walk. Girlfriends' basketball games loom large while a walk in the sunshine is a big, fat bore. Some things are making me unpleasant lately, too (long story for an angel in Heaven) so who could blame them. God forbid if I'd get cancer, like you--I'd be a pain in both their asses, most likely. I am healthy today and have no reason to complain--but I am so sad.

Anyway, I understand better now...I really do...why you wanted me, why you needed me. I think I get the idea only now that when you invest your whole adult life in the development and joy of human beings you sometimes want to hold on..and on and on and on...long after everyone else has jumped the shark. You want to continue being their guiding voice, their soul mate...something, anything. Of course, it's healthy and right and whole that they move on, that they have their friends and that parents move aside. Even parents like me, who have worked hard to build a safety net of career, friends, interests, other things, so I wouldn't be, dare I say, like you, or how I perceived you to be when I was young. But damn, it's hard. Isn't it, Mom? I'm sorry it was so hard and I didn't know any better, even in the end. Who knew? Not me, not at all.

So today, they look at me with greater kindness than I ever showed you. Greater empathy that "Mom isn't quite right today for some reason," the "Gee, I'd be happy to hang with you, but you know, there are other things to do." The song Cats in the Cradle coming to fruition, and all that. Books, songs, sonnets have pointed to this moment in time, this day. Why I'm heartbroken, who knows.

There's nothing more to say than I'm sorry. I wish I knew better. I wish I asked you more questions or sought your advice on just about anything. But I knew it all and needed no advice. Some day they will surely say the same things, but I hope they don't. Maybe they'll be happier or more together. Surely I wish this for them. Maybe their safety nets will be stronger than mine--that would be a good thing, don't you think?

But today is a sunny, beautiful fall day and they have better things to do. So I'm crying and being a big, fat, ninny. Can you do me a favor and shine down here a bit? Put in a good word for me with Jesus about my broken safety net and the girls I live my life for? Have him remind me in thought or sign or somehow that these lessons do present themselves so I won't be such a ninny? There are worse things out there than raising great kids who are happy, healthy and independent. Logically I know this. Emotionally, I feel like shit. I never swore around you, either. :) Sorry about that.

By the way, I miss you.

Love,

Your daughter, whom who called your "baby."

MJ