Relationships – Page 8

Two Months Later

Two months ago, something unspeakable happened. My mom, two-and-a-half months into marathon training, was hit by a car at 6 a.m. during a morning run. She was running on the sidewalk, crossing a parking lot. The people who hit her got out to see if she was OK. She said she was and walked the half-mile home. (I’m not going to even attempt to mention how angry I am with the people who hit her, knowing she was bleeding and had a head wound, letting her walk away from this. They didn’t attempt to make her stay or give her any of their information. OK. I mentioned it. These people are jerks.)

I don’t even think I realized the impact of how badly my mom had been hurt. I mean, sure, there was blood everywhere and I was scared out of my mind. All I kept thinking was that she was coherent and walking. Her injuries weren’t that severe. She wasn’t dead.

I remember the night she was hit. We had been at the hospital for 5 hours and after a scary dizzy spell on our way into the apartment, Mom was home and feeling OK. I went out to get us dinner (comfort food = Chick-Fil-A). I put on a worship CD, put it on full blast, and sang my heart out on my way to and from the restaurant. When I got home, I sat in the car and just cried. Cried with sadness at what my mom has been through, cried with gratefulness that she was alive, cried with thankfulness at how awful this night could be, my first night living without my mother.

My mom couldn’t do much when she came home, or even that first month for that matter. She was dealing with a laceration around her eyebrow, needing 17 stitches. Major, deep cuts and scraps on both palms, elbows, and knees required constant application of antibiotic ointment and non-adhesive bandages. A sprained thumb with a lifeless fingernail (the fingernail is toast, but she’s still waiting on it to grow back.) And a fractured elbow. The elbow is what caused us the most trouble. She had to wear it in a sling for 6 weeks and see an orthopedic for follow-up x-rays. Luckily, it healed just fine but was just more of a pain than anything. (She still can’t stretch out her arm fully and causes her pain to twist the arm around at the wrist. She may never have full mobility of it.)

The first week was the most difficult. My mom needed my help with a lot of things, from washing her hair to opening a soda bottle, and was also dealing with a lot mentally. She was feeling stupid for leaving the scene of the accident, something which I fault the driver for. (Hello! How do you leave a woman with blood running down her face and let her walk home? I would think she wasn’t right in the head!) She was feeling major sadness for not being able to run and thinking her marathon in January was going to be a no-go. She was feeling fear, having just been through a traumatic experience. She went back to work the Tuesday after her accident, even though she probably should have taken a few more days off. She’s a woman who thrives on being busy and sitting home, alone with her thoughts, was not good.

I had to do a lot in the past two months. All the driving, all the cleaning, all the cooking, all the laundry…all the things my mom was doing. I had no idea she did so much for me, while I’m satisfied sitting around. Sure, I can blame working and schoolwork and my internship as reasons why I sit around, but that’s not enough. I need to take a more active role in the housework.

In just the past two weeks, my mom has really gotten a lot of her life back. She was able to take the sling off and do more with her left arm. It still hurts to use it too much but is a lot more mobile than before. She’s driving again, which makes me very happy. (She still doesn’t understand that we don’t have a brake on the passenger’s side of the car. And gasping every time a car drives by me is a little distracting.) She’s back to doing work around the house, which makes me more certain that I can’t let her do everything again. Just this weekend, I told her that I was “glad to have my cleaning-at-midnight-mom back.”

The biggest change is that she’s running again. She had to take 6 weeks off running, which throws off her training completely. (Sunday, she was scheduled to run 16 miles.) Two weeks ago, she was given the green light to resume running. While she had been walking for a few weeks prior, even walking in two 5K’s, it was running that she wanted to do. Running fuels her passion. Two weeks ago, we headed to a park to do some running. I made it half a mile before stopping. My mom made it 3. Three miles. I couldn’t even believe it! She was feeling really down about not being able to run and having a few people tell her how crazy she was for trying to run a marathon, and this run really helped her find her mojo. She wants to add 1 mile a week, which means she’ll be up to 13 miles by January. It’s not the 20 that she needs to be at, but I told her that it’s not the only marathon she’ll ever run. And the fact that she’s still getting out there and running and training for this marathon speaks volumes to me. She’s amazing. She’s a fighter. She’s my mom.

Categories: Relationships

24 Facts

Today, my brother turns 24 years old. I’ll be 23 in November. I think this means we’re bona fide adults now, which just feels weird and strange. I think I’ll always picture him as a gawky, skinny twelve-year-old in my mind. Being that we are just 14 months apart, we have our fair share of inside jokes and old memories. For his birthday, you get 24 facts about him.

1. His favorite football teams are the Florida State Seminoles and the San Francisco 49ers. No matter how hard either team sucks, he’s faithful to them.

2. He knows more football facts than anybody I’ve ever met. Talk to him about any player and he can give you their latest game stats, what teams they’ve ever played on, and the score of the last game they played. Even if it was two years ago.

3. He’s tall, compared to the rest of our family at 6 feet. I come up to his shoulder.

4. He has big muscles and gets offended if anyone criticizes them.

5. He’s been working since he was 15 years old and has never been out of a job.

6. His son is the spitting image of him.

7. His favorite movie is Tommy Boy and both of us can quote that movie, start to finish.

8. He delivers furniture and electronics for a living. He can actually lift a couch by himself.

9. He can’t stand baseball and thinks it’s one of the worst sports ever invented.

10. He always wanted to drive a Nissan truck, and now he has one. It’s black and absolutely gorgeous.

11. His best friend growing up was Tyler. And they fought more than they got along.

12. When he was about 12 or 13, he drank a whole 6-pack of Mountain Dew 20-ouncers. Needless to say, he was up the entire night.

13. He can’t stand the heat, and loves cold weather.

14. We communicate a lot in movie quotes.

15. He’s been with his high school girlfriend for 8 years.

16. He never wears sandals or flip-flops. I don’t even think he owns a pair.

17. He keeps his hair short and gets annoyed when his hair starts growing. He probably gets it cut every 3 weeks.

18. Steve Young is his favorite football player of all time.

19. He just joined Facebook in July. He’s barely ever on it.

20. He has never asked for a handout or complained about the way his life has turned out. He takes on every setback and uses it as an opportunity to grow and learn.

21. He’s an amazing father. One of the best I’ve ever known.

22. He’s the most selfless person I’ve ever come in contact with. He would give you the shirt off his back.

23. With everything we have gone through regarding my dad, he’s been the one I turn to the most for advice. And he gives the best advice, cheers me up, and makes me believe in myself.

24. He’s the single most important male figure in my life. I would be lost without him.

Sidenote: Today is also my grandparents’ 51st wedding anniversary. To celebrate, my grandma is having a colonoscopy! At her last PET scan, they found something on her colon and aren’t sure if it’s cancerous or not. She just finished her second set of chemo treatments in August and has said she won’t go through chemo again. It takes absolutely everything out of her and makes her quality of life absolutely nil for most days of the week. Please keep her in your thoughts and prayers today, as I’m just praying the colonoscopy comes back clean. I can’t imagine my life without her.

Categories: Relationships

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Today is my mom’s birthday. I’ve pretty much hit the jackpot in the mom department, as much as I’ve stunk it up in the dad department. My mom is my best friend, my biggest fan, and someone I spend 90% of my time with. She’s an amazing woman so I thought I would share some memories I have of her.

Remembering…

…the time when she walked into Sports Fan Attic during the holiday season to buy my brother a Michael Vick jersey. The only ones she saw were for the Atlanta Falcons but she knew my brother’s favorite team was the San Fransisco 49ers. Confused, she asked a worker if “there was a Michael Vick who played for the 49ers.” My brother and I still have not let my mom live this one down, and we constantly tease her about it.
…the time when the three of us were playing “Are You Smarter Than a Fifth-Grader?” and she was asked the question: “What has a lot of sand, but very little water.” Her answer: a sandbox. (You can tell she taught preschool for a bajillion years! Also, she’s going to kill me for this getting out. Hehe.)
…the time when the three of us were walking back to our apartment during the holiday season and saw a bunch of kids acting crazy with shopping carts. We were all annoyed, only to laugh hysterically when my mom burst out with: “I hope they spend Christmas in jail!” This is her best one-liner yet.
…the time when the three of us had just moved into a condo, months after she left my dad. She was stressed over the move and dealing with a lot of other issues and my brother could be a bit of a pain. We were sitting down, eating dinner, and I’m not sure what was happening at the time, but I do remember my mom telling my brother, very calmly and patiently, “Mark, get in your room before I say something I regret.” Not 5 seconds later, she bursts out, “Mark, get your ass in your room.” (My mom does not curse and still gasps when something pops out of my mouth, which makes this all the more funny.)
…the time when she made the hardest decision of her life: leaving my father. To this day, it’s the best decision she ever made. She has done so much in her life since divorcing him, while my dad has continued down a downward spiral.
…the time when she received a hand-me-down, but beautiful, bedroom set which included a queen size bed with headboard and two nightstands. Not even thinking of herself, that she had been sleeping on a lumpy, daybed and could definitely use (and deserved!) a new bed, she gave it to me. She kept it as a surprise until I came home on Christmas break from college and I was shocked beyond belief. And she is still sleeping on that lumpy daybed.
…the time when she completely changed her life, and managed to lose 80 pounds doing so. She sometimes gets down on herself because she still falls back on old habits and it’s not any easier now than it was 3 years ago, but she’s managed to keep most of it off, save 10 or so pounds. She’s such a different person than she was in 2006 and an inspiration to so many people. (She’s also the unofficial Weight Watchers expert at work. I told her she needed to start having meetings & charging her co-workers!)
…the time when she decided to change careers. She was burned out from teaching preschool and needed a change. So she took action over her life and did it. She didn’t whine about how she hated her job and wanted something new. She did it. While I still think the preschool world lost an angel when she quit, she’s doing something she enjoys and is good at.
…the time when I made the decision to change majors, even though I was 75% with my schooling to become an elementary school teacher. When I made the decision, I was scared about what my mom would say. I knew she would support me, but I also knew I was asking a lot out of her. And when I told her, I received nothing but love and support. She has never made me question my choice of switching majors, but has shown me it was the best decision for me.
…the time(s) that she has pushed me, over and over again, to show me that I can do it. She has given me all the love she has in her heart, all the support she has, and all the dedication. Never once have I doubted she loves me. Never once have I doubted she would support me. Never once have I been afraid to talk to her about problems.

Happy birthday, Mom! You are amazing and epitomize what a mother should be.

Categories: Relationships

The End

If you’ve been reading my blog for any period of time, you should know about my dad. In September, I wrote about missing him. In December, I wrote about how I felt I was cheated out of a father. In January, I wrote about his first contact with me since November 2007 and how I needed to let him know how much he had hurt me through the years. And on February 8th, I posted the letter I sent to him.

The letter was written in a way nicer tone than he deserved. While I let him know how much he had hurt me, I still left the door wide open for reconciliation. And with his reply later that month, he slammed the door shut, locked it, and threw away the key. In his e-mail back to me, all he seemed to do was take the parts he didn’t like and dissect them down. And, once again, all the blame fell squarely on my shoulders. He’s the best at twisting words around and making you feel like you did something wrong.

At that point in time, I was so wrapped up in school and my internship and just trying to keep my head above water. I didn’t have time to deal with replying to him, although I knew I had to reply. So I kept putting it off until I decided to send him an e-mail back on Father’s Day. (Spiteful? Yes.)

But he beat me to the punch by forwarding the e-mail to me Thursday night. I wrote the letter Saturday morning. I got up early and just wrote and wrote and wrote. Every time I would glance at the e-mail he sent me, my blood would boil and my hands would start shaking. The things he said in there were just plain awful and he showed no remorse or love for me.

On Monday, he sent me an e-mail with the subject header: “Where’s my phone call???????” This is what his message contained: “Well, I have not heard from you and I figure you were so pissed off you probably don’t want to speak to me. Well, I’m trying to move on. I’ve BEEN THROUGH A LOT these past 10 years and all my fault.”

Yes. He was moving on from me. I read this on my way out the gym and couldn’t stop the tears from falling on my way back to my apartment. To be quite honest, I’ve never really let myself cry over him. As open as I am on this blog, my emotions and feelings are locked up so tight to the outside world. I don’t talk about my problems with other people and even my mom has a tough time getting me to talk. It was the first time I let myself cry over the loss of my father.

I called my brother when I got home and read him the e-mail. He talked me down from the ledge. He’s really the only person in the world who can understand what I’m going through and he’s helped me to see that Dad is wrong about me and that I am special and worthy. After talking to my brother, I added a few paragraphs to my letter and sent it off to my dad. I haven’t received a response and I hope I never have to speak to him again. He has been the most negative force in my life and I’m better off without him. Now I just have to figure out how to go about that, how to put my dad in the past, and live my life without his nagging voice telling me I’m not good enough.

I’ll probably be blogging about this more, because it feels like my dad just died. In a way, he did. Our relationship died. I felt sick after sending the e-mail, but also empowered because I said what I wanted to say and didn’t back down from anything.

For your viewing pleasure, here’s some of what I said to him:

Being loved and having unconditional love are two completely different things. There were times I felt your love. I hold on tight to those times because they were few and far between. When I was younger, you were awesome. It was only as I grew older that I realized what I needed to do to grab your attention and keep your love. A child should never feel like they should have to do a dance to get a hug from their parent. I felt like I was walking on eggshells around you, trying to do my best to impress you but always falling short.

It was in spite of you that Mark and I never touched a cigarette or a drug. It was in spite of you that we didn’t turn into alcoholics. It was in spite of you that I’m not the mother of multiple children. It was in spite of you that Mark has managed to have a normal, functioning relationship with his girlfriend where he has never even thought about doing things you did to Mom. (He’s only 23 and he’s double the man you will ever be. One of his goals in life is to be nothing like you and he’s doing a damn fine job at that.)

Mom has been more than a mother and a father to Mark and I. She has been our sounding board, our support system, and our friend. She has done everything she can to make us happy. She has taken out loans to keep us afloat when you weren’t giving us child support. We moved into a two-bedroom house for 3 years where her “room” was the living room. She gave up so much for us that to even think of you trying to take credit for how we turned out makes me want to vomit. You didn’t help at all. You hindered. And it was only by her love and support that Mark and I grew up to be functioning members of society. We have never been to jail. We don’t have a criminal record. We don’t drink or smoke or do drugs. We both have steady jobs. We are doing everything in our power to not turn out anything like you.

I can’t even fathom telling a child of mine I’m “moving on” from them. You have to be a pretty screwed-up person to think about severing the relationship with your own flesh-and-blood. And, sure, your life hasn’t been easy. (But who ever said life was easy?!) But YOU are the one who stole money from your mother, abused women, gambled away every penny you made, stole money from your brother, attacked your brother, stole his car, etc. You play the victim card so well but YOU DID THIS TO YOURSELF! Stop being such a victim and start taking control over your life. Be a man for once.

I’m ready to move on from this relationship, but it’s still hard. It wasn’t easy writing these words and it was even harder pressing the “send” button to give it to him. But he needed to read these words and I needed to say them. This is one story that won’t have a happy ending, but in time, I hope to discover and explore my own means of finding a happy ending.

Categories: Relationships

A Letter… {part 2}

In February, I wrote a letter to my father. This is a different sort of letter. A letter to the woman I am so proud to call my mom.

Dear Mom,

If I ever needed to know what unconditional love looked like, I only have to look at you. You have shown me complete, unconditional love from day one. You are one of the strongest women I know, and I hate that you don’t see yourself this way. Because you are. There’s nobody in the world could have gone through the circumstances you have gone through and emerged out as such a winner.

Growing up, it was tough living with you and Dad. The fights were intense and frequent. I remember watching Dad hold a knife to your throat when I was just a child. I remember thinking, “Mom, please stop!” when you continued to fight with him, but then so proud that you could hold your own. I remember walking on eggshells around Dad and feeling the wrath of his anger. I remember the sweet relief I felt when you sat me down one night when I was in fifth grade and told me we were leaving my father.

Leaving your husband of almost 13 years was no easy feat. You had to become a single mom to a 12-year-old sullen boy and a 11-year-old scared-of-her-own-shadow girl. You had to move back in with your parents. There was nothing easy about what you did, but it was necessary. “I didn’t want your brother and you to see our relationship and think this is how a marriage looks like,” is what you say to this day of why you left my father. It didn’t just show me that, it also showed me what it means to be a strong woman.

We weren’t always good friends. I wrote “I hate my mom” on my dresser in middle school. I was embarrassed to walk around in the mall with you. I thought you were old-fashioned with your Christian values.

But now you are my best friend. You are someone I go to for all my problems. We have our moments of utter silliness where we giggle like we’re in middle school. We have our moments of extreme seriousness where we talk about our problems. And we have our quiet moments where we just sit in complete, comfortable silence.

You have supported me every step of the way: through my awful education internships, losing weight, my decision to switch my major, some terrible jobs, and you were there to pick up the pieces every single time my father broke my heart. I know I can talk to you about any problem and concern I may have and you will listen.

We have been through a lot together. I was with you as you lost 80 pounds. I was with you when you left my dad for the final time. I was with you as you struggled with extreme depression, after leaving my father.

You are an amazing woman. You raised two amazing kids on a limited budget. While Mark and I never got a car for our 16th birthdays, we received more in love and support from you than a car could ever give. You taught us about responsibility, courage, and honesty. You taught us about forgiveness as you sent us off to my father’s house every other weekend, knowing he was going to spend the majority of the time bashing you. You have taught me about love, a selfless love, that keeps on giving and never grows weary.

I am so glad to be your daughter. While I may have bombed in the dad department, I got the pot of gold in the mom department. You are amazing, beautiful, and so much fun to be with. I love you, Mom.

Love,
Stephany