Thanksgiving....

Thanksgiving 2005 was the last time I saw my Mom alive. I knew things were not going well for her when I visited her and had an eerie sense that would be the last time I saw her.... which turned out to be true. Thanksgiving also stirs up memories of my father because when I was 10 after a bad incident Thanksgiving weekend, my Mom and I finally left him. Now he is gone as well and ofcourse there are sad memories because of these circumstances but I am SO extremely grateful for my friends and family, especially at a time like this, they get me through.
Meg

Missing my "mommy"

So I have been fighting a viral bug the last few weeks and 2 weeks ago I was off for two days. My boss was pretty amazing and called one day to ask if I needed soup, do I need anything, and she said she could not help it because she is a mom. I missed my mom so much in that moment because we know how sooky we can feel when we are sick and want our mommies to take care of us. I remember my mom would send me care packages when I was sick because she was not close by-I would give anything to have that and her here looking after me.
Meg

lag.....

Hey sister,

We need to write more-I know I have been super busy and dealing with a lot of stuff but I will make an effort to write again soon
XOXO
Meg

Goldilocks Misses Mama Bear's Shopping Style

I know from friends that shopping with their mums is not always the greatest. There are mums who are overbearing in their adult daughter's fashion choices. There are mums who really don't like shopping, so the entire excursion can only last a maximum of 15 minutes before said mum starts to meltdown. They start having the sweats because of the mall crowds, line-ups, and general rudeness of other patrons.
There are also the mums who like shopping too much, and can spend 2-3 hours in one tiny shop trying on everything. Then there was my mum and she was the "just right" shopping buddy. I was Goldilocks and my Mama Bear's Shopping style was perfect. We shopped a lot and that's not to say we spent a lot of money, we just enjoyed looking at things and talking about clothes, fashion and home decor. I could always count on her to head out with me on a whim at any time of the day, as long as she wasn't working.
I start a week's vacation tomorrow and I'm really missing my shopping buddy. My vacation will be at home as I don't have any plans for travel, and I also have an MRI scheduled for this coming week. My two best friends live on the East and West coast of Canada respectively so they can't go shopping with me; and actually neither one of them really enjoys shopping like I do.
I'll go to a couple outlet malls nearby on my vacation. I'll peruse and wander alone for a couple afternoons. I will think of my perfect shopping buddy every time I try something on or come across some fabulous item. It's been 2 years 7 months and 2 days and I still want my shopping buddy back.

The Bachelorette

Who knew that watching the Bachelorette would spark something worthy to write here. One of the guys, Chris, lost his mom, and there is a scene that I just watched where he needs to take Ali on a moped and he is super nervous and cautious. Ali then "tells the camera" how she can imagine that how losing someone can affect how you live your life...as we well know sweets it does. So just needed to share that...
Meg

Another poem..timing seemed appropriate....

Since reading Tara's last blog, I was reviewing some of the poems I have been writing the last few months and thought I would share this one....

Lost Soul

Chaos, lost, confusion surrounds
Not knowing which way is up or down
Trying to feel complete
When everything seems obsolete

But in this cloud of doubt
Messages are shouting out
Find your way, find your way
So you will no longer be wandering astray

And in this darkness, clarity appears
You have finally faced your fears
You are not lost, you are found
And the lost soul has found their common ground

Meg

Wanna Be Sedated

Ah I miss Joey Ramone-yet another person who didn't live all that long.
So this blog basically started because Meg and I noticed that our primary perspectives on life have shifted since our mothers have died. One of the most noticeable changes in my personality is that I’ve become hyper-cautious about my physical well-being. I think a lot about death and become panicked at times because I think I’m going to die soon. A headache is no longer a headache, but a tumour in my brain. My tiredness must be a blood disorder and of course terminal, or at least debilitating. My chest pains always signal a heart attack. I have chest pains once or twice a week and no doubt the pains themselves are psychosomatic. When my arm or foot falls asleep and gets all tingly it means there is probably a blood clot somewhere, which means I’m about to have a stroke. You get the picture; nothing is ever just a common ailment. When I have these conclusions I never act upon them. I don’t share my thoughts with anyone in my daily life and I rarely go to the doctor or stay home from work. I simply panic. I completely stress out about aforementioned symptoms which inevitably make them worse. The cycle continues.
I haven’t articulated these thoughts to anyone other than Meg. I do have a very concrete awareness of the fact that A) these thoughts are largely irrational and B) these thoughts must be directly tied to my mother passing at such a young age. I never use to think like this but in recent years have become downright fatalistic now and I believe it’s because my mum died. That event in December of 2007 instilled in me the ridiculous reality that you really can just die one day. So I can’t help but dwell on the fact that I’m next. I mean we share everything else…same knees, same thumbs, same fine curly hair, same skin allergies why shouldn’t we share the same way of dying?
Living with this acute awareness of my body and health has been very difficult these past 2 ½ years. It has been so hard to believe that I am healthy and that I am ok and that I am not going to die at 52 out of the blue from some abnormal blood vessels.
Furthermore, this pseudo hypochondriac lifestyle I’ve taken on has made it very hard for me to honour my mum’s life and her living mantra of always being positive. She was the eternal optimist before she had the brain bleed, then during her recovery and even coming out of her operation. She instilled in my brother and I the absolute necessity of positive thinking and appreciation for every small thing in life. She really and truly always looked on the "bright side of life" (cue song 'cause she'd sing it). This is what she wanted for her children. To be honest, it's been over two years since she's been gone and my life is still stuck in such a deep malaise. I don’t enjoy things. I’m so afraid of ending up like her and so depressed for not living like her.

-Tara

Poem-work in progress

Over the last few months I have been writing off and on. Was thinking of my mum when I wrote this-still not keen on some of the lines, it is a work in progress....

You can borrow my sorrow

You can borrow my sorrow
I have enough for two
With all the things that I’ve been through
If it will help you get through tomorrow
You can borrow my sorrow

Broken heart, lost dreams
When life is falling apart at the seams
If it will help you get through tomorrow
You can borrow my sorrow

Dreaming of a day
When the sorrow will wash way
I know I will get through
And your sorrow will leave you too
Then there will be no more sorrow to borrow

Meg

Hallelujah

I just finished watching an amazing movie called Feast of Love. In one scene Hallelujah plays in the background and I thought of Mumma C....
xo Meg