Me and Eli--we love going to parks. We love Sharon Woods in Cincinnati and we love Hugh McRae in Wilmington. We go there twice a week to do Stroller Strides, and after my exercise class, Eli plays on the playground with the other toddlers. It's been a great way to get some socialization for him, and a chance for me to talk to other moms.
But this one day a few weeks ago, the regular Stroller Strides moms left early and there were many people we didn't know, mostly grandmas and their grandchildren. While I pushed Eli on his swing I spoke to one of the grandmas, who was quite friendly, and she mentioned how she had another grandchild on the way. Then her pregnant daughter arrived. They chit-chatted about the work the daughter was having done to her house, and where they were going to go from there. This menial conversation, which I'm sure meant nothing to them, struck a chord in me. Their conversation was so easy. Nothing to work at. They can read each other's thoughts and feelings without even knowing it. Because it's not something you know about until it's not there anymore. And this woman and her mom--they cared about every menial detail in each other's lives. Because moms are starved for two things--time and information. Time to spend with their children (and grandchildren, if they should be so lucky) and information about them and their daily lives.
I couldn't help but think that where this woman is in her life, with a 2 year-old, another on the way, and a mom to share it all with, is where I should be right now if...if I hadn't lost my first baby and if I hadn't lost my mom.
This trio and all the other grandmas crawling around the playground were too much for me. I started to cry, but covered up my face so as not to make a scene. Eli started to laugh--he was preparing for what he thought was another fun game of peek-a-boo. I thought that was as good
idea--he is always good at bringing me back to earth. So I played peek-a-boo with him for a while on the swing, and then we departed the park. I had had enough peek-a-boo for that day.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
I was just reading through my mom's blog from 2007. I remember how stressful it all was, finding out about the cancer returning, the small chance that IL2 had of working, finding out that we had to abandon the IL2 and that there would be no cure, worrying about the sutent working, many plane flights to and from Cincinnati...it all seems so long ago. And despite all that stress, what I wouldn't give to put my arms around my mom again. This picture, this day was so hard. It was the day I left my parents in the hospital in Boston after the first and only round of IL2. It was so hard watching mom suffer the side effects of that treatment, but I was so proud of her for how she handled it. I cannot tell you how bad she felt when this photo was taken, but she forced herself to get out of bed to hug me good-bye and even smile for the camera. If you blow the picture up you can see that our eyes are shiny from tears, but we are happy to be together. Lately I've dreamt a lot of my mom, but she's always sick and dying in the dreams. But it is ALWAYS wonderful to see her in a dream. How I wish that it had all been a dream. It still seems that way sometimes.
I don't know why I wanted to repost this picture, or write this post. I wasn't sure which blog to write it in. But I just want everyone to know how very much she is missed. I know that everyone who knew her misses her. Our lives will never be as rich because of her absence. I'm glad I have my little squirmy worm to make me smile.
Posted by Andrea at 12:05 AM