An Ode to Mom

Mom and I, Obligatory bluebonnet picture, 1988 probably. 

My heart hurts. 

To say the least the last week of my life has proven to be hard. I sit here with my dog as he tries to console me because somehow animals know exactly what you're feeling. 

I come back to this blog because I need to get these thoughts out of my head. 

My mom is gone. Forever 62. She passed away suddenly last Monday. Wrapping your head around your mother never being here again is a hard concept. It's even harder when you realize you didn't have a good relationship. She didn't have a good relationship with many people, her mental illness wouldn't allow it. 

I take that really hard. 

Mom had multiple mental illnesses that alienated her from her kids and her family. The same mental illnesses that deterred her from taking care of herself. The same mental issues that would dictate how she truly lived her life. 

Alone. 

I've never been quiet about the fact I have anxiety and depression. I take one little green pill everyday and that helps me be the very best version of myself. I'm mourning the fact that my mother couldn't find the same peace I did. I mourning the fact that she couldn't find therapy helpful, the way it's saved my life. 

She grew up in the 70's. She was a flower child. She took the 70's to heart. She loved Austin, Tx. I never knew why she did, I think it's because she loved who she was when she lived there. 

My mom wasn't always this mentally ill. In her early life, she loved her kids. She loved being able to play with us. I found my love of reading books due to her reading to me most nights before bed. She loved to cook. She took her creativity to the kitchen and made some of my favorite recipes. I'll forever make her cheesecake. It's one of my favorite things to make. She really loved to feed people. She loved big. She always had a big hug ready for anyone who needed it. 

San Antonio, TX 1984

Mom and Heather (sister) and Tina, my mom's fave dog.

Mom and Dad in 1980's. 

Growing up she always smelled like Clinique Aromatics. 

Holidays were always a big deal. Halloween was one of our favorites. We dressed up and Mom always fostered my love of having a big imagination. She loved the fall. She loved wearing sweaters. If you ever came over to my house growing up, it was a balmy 68-69 degrees all year round. 

My mom had a funny personality. She was very quick witted and had a really great sense of humor. She truly had the best smile. I'm proud that I get this from her. 

There are many great memories that i'll always hold on to, and I pray that over time they will outshine all the bad ones.  

I'll forever be sad that my children were unable to know the mom I once knew. I'll forever be heartbroken that many people in Mom's life won't know her how I did. The hole in my heart will always be there from years to come. 

My relationship with my mother or lack thereof, will be my great life puzzle. I'll probably always need therapy. I'll probably always need a small green pill, but I'm ok with that. I'll never stop advocating for mental health. The best way I know to honor my mother and her memory is to live the best way I know how, mentally sound. I'll always try to incorporate the good my mother put in my life, into my children.

There is one thing I'll tell you is for certain, I'll be ok. I'll always be ok. I have the tools and know all the ways to cope with my sadness. I've endured many traumas in my life and they have yet to make me bitter. I will never allow bitterness take away the joys that life can bring. I hope that anyone reading this that has depression and anxiety, please give yourself permission to find therapy. Therapy can open the door for so many aspects in your life. It sheds light on a different perspective and helps repair years of trauma and pain. The biggest thing therapy can do is help break the chain of addiction in families. 

The healing process isn't always linear. It's a dance, take one step forward, take 10 steps back. Whatever the process looks like, i'll always be dancing.  

I'll always love you, Mom. Always.

Until next time friends.