Blessings

It's Thanksgiving today.  As I sit here, watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse with Drew (hot dog hot dog hot diggity dog!), I can't help but think of all the blessings that I have in my life.

We received an incredible extra blessing yesterday.  After 2 years of my husband working for me as a server, he has finally gotten a job.  A good job.  A job with lots of growth potential.  It is a huge relief for us.

When he called me at work to give me the news, I immediately started crying.  I was squatting down on the floor, phone in hand, crying in the middle of the restaurant.  Thank you Lord for this.  Thank you for giving us good news at the end of a horrible, terrible year!

I went into the office to cry alone for a few minutes (I have done that A LOT this year).  And I picked up the phone to share the news- the first number I called was my mom's.  Shit.  How I wish I could hear her voice when I told her.  How I wish I could have talked to her about it.

So I called my sister and told her.  And she cried.  It's been a long road for us and everyone knows it.

Tonight, when I pray before I go to sleep, I will say an extra prayer of thanks for all the things God has blessed us with.  This year has been hard, the hardest of my life.  But I have so many people in my life that love me.  I wouldn't have survived without them.  My husband, my sister, my best friends.  My family that offered help and support during so many hard times.

I will thank God for my dad that actually wants to see the boys and goes out of his way to spend time with them.  

I will thank God for my sweet nephew Emmett.  I love him so much and am so happy that he is here, not only for the relationship I have with him but for making my relationship with my brother stronger.

 I will thank God for my Blue Plate family, and the job I have that has supported my family while Jimmy went back to school and looked for job.  For a job that allowed me to care for my mother during her final weeks.

I will thank God for 32 years with my mother.  For all the memories I have of her.  For letting me still hear her voice if I close my eyes and concentrate.  For all the things she taught me, for all the ways she made me stronger.

Happy Thanksgiving, I hope everyone has as many things to be thankful for.

My unhealthy relationship

I'm not talking about a relationship with a person.  I'm talking about my relationship with food.

I'm not sure how I developed this relationship.  Maybe it comes from being southern.  We have a tendency to throw food at any problem, event, celebration, etc.  And it's always good (bad?) food.  

For example, when my mother was ill and we were caring for her, we had more food, pies, cakes than we could handle.  (I've never seen so much potato salad in my life).  I gained twenty pounds in those months.

Even when we were responsible for our on meals, we chose badly.  We needed comfort.  We needed fried and crunchy and cheesy and sweet.  We need chips and candy and snacks.  We "deserved" it.  Our mom was dying.

But why do we think that good makes us feel better?  Why do we turn to food for comfort?  Or reward?  Or celebration?

Does food make you feel better in the long run, or is it a temporary feeling?  Would a new pair of shoes satisfy you longer than an expensive, unhealthy dinner out?  Probably.  But we still reach for food in these circumstances.

I am currently trying to undo the damage of those few months.  Prior to her diagnosis, I had lost weight, built muscle and felt so much better.  It took me a long time to get back in the habit of going to the gym. But now I go daily with little trouble.

Food I still struggle with.  I am trying hard to retrain myself.  To look at food as fuel for my body.  To have a better balanced diet, where I am able to have an occasional treat without either extreme guilt or without a full on binge.

Wish me luck!

6 months

Every month, when the 7th rolls around, I get a little extra sad about my mom.  Today marks six months since she passed.  Six months since I saw her take her last breaths.  Six months since we sat on the back porch while they took her body away, then went back into a house that was eerily quiet without the sounds of her oxygen machine and her tv.  Six months.

It sounds like a long time.  But it feels like it was just yesterday.

I am lonely without her.  I have lots of friends.  I have my family.  But no one can fill the void that she has left.  She was the only person I actually talked to on the phone on a regular basis.  We talked almost everyday.  She used to annoy the hell out of me when she would call me, then have me wait while she finished a conversation with someone she was with, or a bank teller, or order in a drive thru.  I'd wonder why she didn't just wait to finish and THEN call me.  And of course I'd wait on hold forever if it meant I got to talk to her just one more time.

Today I sat in my car and listened to some of her favorite songs.  The Judds.  Eric Clapton.  I closed my eyes a conjured up the sound of her voice.  I thought about how much she would be hurting to know how much I am hurting.  How she always wanted to take my pain away.

I found this old photo of the two of us.  She was beautiful.  Even Drew thought so.  He asked who it was and I said, "Me and Gammy".  He said, "My Gammy???  She looks so pretty!"  Of course, he followed up with, "And you look pretty too... 'cept, I didn't know you was a boy baby"  Oh what I would give to tell my mom that story.  She would have laughed so hard, she loved that boy.  (all of them of course)

I love you mom.  I miss you everyday.  One day I will see you again.  I hope you are watching over us and seeing your boys grow, and you know all the stories that I can't tell you.