We are home now. Services for Susan were yesterday. It was a mass. The service in itself was hugely comforting. I loved being in a mass and experiencing what Susan has come to love in a worship service. I loved sitting right in front of the nuns who Susan adored. I loved the music that the music director chose for the service. And the fact that it was his very first day on the job? Amazing. He really did a wonderful job.
I did get to sing for her. Not a performance, mind you, but an offering.
Not many people know that Susan had a really pretty voice. That both her left brain and right brain were equally remarkable. Science and math? Not a problem. Poetry and music? Also right up her alley. She was all about the balance.
On Saturday nights, our youth group hung out. Almost every Saturday night. There was a house on the church property that was just for the youth. We would watch a movie, play pool, have a game of capture the flag, or just talk. Many evenings though, Susan and I would go to the piano, and she would sing harmony with me on the incredibly cheesy pop songs I wrote. Think Indigo Girls, but on piano, we definitely liked boys, and we probably giggled way more than they did.
Singing is something we did together. There weren't a lot of things that we both did. She managed the soccer team at school; I was in band. She was genuinely smart; I was just good at standardized tests. I cook; she does not. But singing and writing? We did that together.
In fact, I still have a journal that she gave me in high school filled with really terrible poetry that I wrote about being misunderstood and boys breaking my heart. In the front, she wrote, "From one closet writer to another."
Ironic that her words would become read by hundreds of thousands of people all over the world.
I'm totally rambling.
Here's the thing. I'm supposed to be coming out of this six month fog of worry and sadness. I'm supposed to be on track to getting things done around the house now. I know this. It's time to get better and get moving.
But today? The first day back? I get an email from Christopher's teacher at preschool. He's being defiant and wrestling at school. He won't keep his hands to himself and has no concept of personal space. It's not the first email I've gotten, and I have tried my best to work with them and help Christopher learn what is expected of him as he is growing up.
Of course, the first thing I would do after receiving an email like that is obvious. I would call Susan. She would talk me through what I should do. Not by telling me what to do, but by asking questions that led us to a reasonable conclusion.
Instead, today I just got pissed. I feel like I'm doing everything I know how to do for Christopher, and for freaking holy biscuits' sake, I'm not at preschool with him. I cannot control his behavior. I cannot be with him 24 hours a day. What is the teacher doing? Why is he acting out there? That's what I want to know, and I'm ready to go in on Monday for a conference with both barrels aimed and make an ass out of myself.
Susan would talk me down from that. Now I have to talk my own damn self down. I don't want to. I want to hear her say that it's going to be alright. That I'm a good mama. That Christopher is a good boy. That having a hard time at school is normal sometimes and that we will find a way to help him.
Why is it that the first day home has to be a day when I really really need her? Oh. Right. Because that is what everyday is. Damn.
For real. Tell me this gets easier. Even if you're lying, just go ahead and tell me that today.
Thursday, February 09, 2012
What everyday is
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Oh, girl. Praying for you.
ReplyDeleteIt does get easier. It really does. But it also takes time for it to happen.
ReplyDeleteI lost my mom suddenly and without warning almost 8 years ago. She was my best friend. I never lied to her, we talked daily, and she was my sounding board. After she was gone I felt exactly like you do now.
It will get easier but at first it will feel more like taking two steps forward and one step back.
If it helps you talk to Susan, write to her..I did a lot of that in those first weeks and months.
It gets easier.
ReplyDeleteI was very suddenly prompted to pray for you yesterday, mid-morning, and now I suspect it was because you were at the service and needed some extra prayers.
My phone and email and texts and everything else are always open to you. I know that none of us will ever replace her role in your life, but I happen to be good at talking people down from attacking, for instance, their child's teacher. :)
Love you, girl. Just keep going. One minute at a time.
It does get easier honey. I'm not even lying to you. It may take awhile but it will get easier.
ReplyDeleteI used to talk to my friend in my head after he passed. It seems silly to write it here, but its true. He had, for most of my childhood been the person who could get me to see what decision I already knew I needed to make. So...I talked to him in my head for a while. I always knew what he would say if he was there.
Marty? I know you need her and I know me saying this may not help much. But I'm gonna say it anyway...You are a great mama. You are. Preschool is hard for kids. They are still so little and so much is expected of them. It's normal, especially for boys, at that age to have no clue what is expected of them. Every day, I remind my son to keep his hands to himself. I remind him to pay attention to his teachers words. I remind him to be sweet and use nice words to his friends. And then? I remind him that we DO NOT PLAY Kung Fu Panda at school. Heh. Every day.
C is a good kid. He'll get there. Maybe a talk with his teacher will help. Maybe it will take a few talks with his teacher. But know that you are doing things right. Trust your mama gut.
I know. I wish I could help. You know that your kiddo is a good one. He's going to be okay. I love you.
ReplyDeleteIt gets easier.
ReplyDeleteFrom Dawn, who's preschooler told someone to "build the fuckin house." last month.
Ok here is what I have been doing, when I start getting emotional about whatever issue we are dealing with, I stop and ask myself will this matter 1 year from now? Seriously 9 times out of 10 the answer is no. Will it really hurt that he was a little rowdy at pre-school? NO. He's fine and so are you.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry you've lost your best friend. I feel shitty even trying to support you through words on the internet, but it's all I've got. Stay strong!
You sang beautifully. Absolutely beautifully. Your song was not only a gift to Susan and her family, but to everyone at the service. We don't know each other, but I knew Susan. You will often find yourself wanting to turn to Susan to ask her things, I felt that way after my grandfather died. But know that she is there, and just like you knew she would ask you questions to calm you down, you know that deep down inside, she is with you through these tough times when you wish you could just pick up the phone and have her right there. I'm sure you will still "hear" her voice, telling you what you need to know from her. I'm so sorry you came home to such an email, you are right, the very last thing you needed after losing Susan. Big, big hugs to you.
ReplyDeleteIt will get easier. It will take time but I promise it will get easier.
ReplyDeleteSending you thoughts and prayers for comfort and love right now, and always.
As for Christopher- you are SPOT ON! What is going on in that classroom that the teacher is not controlling it? It's one thing for it to happen once in awhile but there does have to be some responsibility on her part. This is coming from a teacher. You have every right to question that.
ALL of this will get easier.
It has to get easier, because it can't really get much harder right?
ReplyDeleteA friend of mine once told me, when her partner was very sick with pancreatic cancer, that she was taking things day by day, and if that seemed too overwhelming then she was taking things hour by hour and if that seemed too overwhelming she was taking things minute by minute. And that helped her get through the hard times.
It will get better. Hang in there.
Ugh. I'm sorry. I think the anger is normal. Life goes on, even when you're not ready for it to...
ReplyDeleteYour song was one of the most moments ever. It deeply touched me.
I wish I knew the answer about preschool. I would probably wait it out and keep doing what you're doing.
I'm missing a word... poignant moments ever.
ReplyDeleteit will, it will get easier.
ReplyDelete((hugs))
It will get better. It has to. And until the pain dulls a little bit, we're here to hold you up.
ReplyDeleteYou're a great mom, who thinks hard and well about things and works hard to make them so. He's a good boy, who knows sadness is around him and needs to process it in the ways that little boys do. There will be solutions. You will find them. You are a good mom, who has good friends, who will help you with this, and everything else. And it won't be the same, and it won't be the way you wanted it to be at all. But it will be ok. It will.
ReplyDeleteIt gets easier!
ReplyDeleteThe firsts of anything, after someone dies, are hell.
Just gotta hunker down and ride the storm out... knowing that there's someone else, exactly like you, riding their storm out too.
"Oh Lord... the storm is so big & my boat is so small."
Hang in there & know that we're all "out here".... the invisible masses of people.... ready to throw you a life jacket if you need one.
When my daughter was in preschool, I was called in for a conference because the teacher was positive that my d had some fine motor skills developmental issues. I was flumoxed. What could it be? Well, my d was observed to run around on her toes, never on her full feet like the other children. The teacher recommended physical therapy before it was irreversible. Again, I was flumoxed. I asked my d about running on her toes, her response, "I'm a fairy fluttering around!".
ReplyDeleteMarti, I obviously don't know you, but dear, you appear to have a creative son just like my d. Who knows what he's thinking! I can tell you one thing, from what I have read, you are indeed a good mom. (And I have a problem with my tone of voice too- and you know what? I'm still a good mom!). Cheers dear. Will pray.
I came to your blog through Susan's, and have been a lurker, but now feel the need to comment -- in part because it is "what Susan would do."
ReplyDeleteIf I, who never even met Susan, am so affected by her loss, I can only imagine how it is for you.
But I do remember someone saying in a yearbook once, "I am so fortunate to have had something in my life that hurts so much to leave." This kid was referring to leaving a beloved high school, but the point is that having had some thing, or some one, so very special in your life is a blessing.
What a profound loss, but I am hoping that you can still find yourself supported by Susan as you contemplate what she "would" advise you, just as you have been doing.
Wishing blessings to you and your family.
-- Joan in PA
It gets better. Because it just has to.
ReplyDeleteAs for you and CC -- you are a great mom and he is a great boy. And I can tell you that, if nothing else, having a 6-year-old and a 4-year-old is a lot easier than having a 4-year-old and a 2-year-old. So at least you have that to look forward to.
I'm here anytime you want to tell Susan stories...
It gets easier. Not necessarily "better" but easier. I still write/talk to my best friend and it's been fourteen years since he passed away suddenly. I still try to laugh more, love harder..for two. Myself and for him.
ReplyDelete