"Sister to sister we will always be,
A couple of nuts off the family tree."
~Author Unknown
They may say it's the apple that doesn't fall far from the tree, but in my family we are definitely all nuts.
What did the big nut say to the little nut? I will always cashew when you fall.
What did the little nut say to the big nut? Why are you always pecan on me?
What acorn-y couple of jokes right?
Being nuts was always a joke in our house. My sister and I were lucky to have parents that were able to make difficult times into laughable memories. My sister and I learned to roll with the punches. Life knocks you down, but you learn to get back up. It's a lot easier to do that when you have a family that supports you. I feel lucky for that.
I miss my mom. Sometimes just admitting that makes me feel momentarily paralyzed with longing sadness. I just pulled out a box of her journals. Reading parts of one of the the last ones she wrote in. It's hard to explain, but my mom was really funny. Even when she was writing about being really sad, she still had a sense of humor. Here is an excerpt:
Saturday 11-8-08
"In group we talked about being more positive. I'm trying, but I'm positive I'm very, very depressed." -Mom's Journal
Here is an excerpt from one of my journals:
May 28th, 2009
"I'm sad today. Well, all week. But the tears aren't going to hold out much longer. Started crying on the way to Leo's. I think my mom wants- I think she might be dead by this time next year. Suicide."
Anyways, something I have wanted to share. I graduated from the University of Minnesota on May 17th. I bought myself a journal, the kind where you are supposed to just write a few sentences a day. I love journals. Anyways, I did this for about a week. On May 28, 2009 that is what I wrote. That night, after I finished dog sitting (Leo was a dachshund) I went out with friends. Sometime near bar close, I got a call from my sister that my mom had overdosed. I didn't even think much of it. My mom had been in and out of the "loony bin" as she liked to call it. I left the bar with friends, and called my dad. My mom was dead.
Time heals, but scars will always remain. When I wrote that in my journal, it wasn't as if my sister and I hadn't already had concerns about my mom taking her life. It's just, we joked about it. Writing it in my journal meant I was really admitting it to myself that I was scared for her. It makes me think of how we are connected to our family. When they die, you feel them take a piece with you. She was ready to go, and despite the distance, I think I could feel it.
I guess that's a sad way to start a blog, but I guess I have just been feeling a little lost lately. By lately I mean for a long time, even before my mom died, and by a little, I mean a lot. So I might as well start writing about it. Maybe no one will read our blog, maybe it will just serve as an outlet for me to work out my pain. Maybe one person will read one phrase and feel like someone understood them. Grief is complicated. Depression is hard.
I want to be the kind of person who can live unapologetically. In some of my darkest moments the words that have come to me are, "Live with conviction." It's not enough just go through the motions, even though I so often do. I want to stop thinking of the future as some saving grace. I want to embrace the present. Stop worrying so much about where everything is going or what effect I am going to have on things.
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