Me, on a good day

Today was a good day. No tears, at least, on my part. My kids all did their chores, did some homework, my son is in practicing the piano. I'm trying to get myself together. I've had five months now to fall apart. That was easy to do while the kids are in school. But when they're home I know I have to stop feeling sorry for myself and be there for my kids. Whenever I've known people who have lost someone, I, like most other people, have been at a loss as to what to say. I've realized that I don't want people to say anything. Mostly, I haven't wanted to talk to anyone except my dad and my husband, and sometimes Angie. But, at the same time, I've so much appreciated people's emails, phone calls, letters, frozen meals, babysitting. A neighbor commented to another neighbor that she couldn't believe how down I had been for so long. The neighbor doesn't know me very well, nor does she know how close I was with my mom. My mom was my biggest cheerleader, always wanting to hear every detail of my kids' lives, all that was going on with my work, what we had for dinner, what was the latest drama at Scot's work. She was a captive audience to share my life with. It's not just been losing my mom, it's been losing an irreplaceable friendship. As I've moved into my later 30's (wow, that happened fast) and had friendships ebb, flow, end, begin again, being able to have a true friendship has taken on a new meaning for me. I don't have the time nor energy to devote to being a good friend to lots of people. People I meet now don't know where I've been, what I've been through, my heartaches, my faults, and they'll never quite understand me as someone who's stood by me for many years. All that makes losing my mom especially hard. No woman had been there longer to support me and love me. Ok. I had said no tears today, but that was pretty impossible to write and not cry.