Guilty

I feel guilty that I wasn't with my mom when she died. 

Mom has been my best friend as far back as I can remember.  I don't ever remember having a moment in my life where I didn't like her.  She was always on my side no matter how bad I fucked up or how wrong I was. 

When a girl picked on me in high school I was scared.  This girl cut up my clothes.  Mom brought me new clothes and told the gym teacher that I was going to kick this girls ass and if I got suspended for  it she'd be okay with that.  Then mom told me that I had to stand up to this bully and beat her ass.  So ,  I FINALLY stood up to the bully who backed away from my offered fight thanks to mom.  Mom thought I shouldn't have allowed her to back down and that I should have kicked her ass and got suspended.  Mom was a renegade and for that I love her even more.

When I got pregnant at 19 I holed myself into my bedroom until mom forced her way in and pulled it out of me.  Mom knew I was pregnant before I did.  I was so scared and anxious.

Mom asked me, "Do you love him?"  I said I didn't know but he was nice, had a great family and treated me well .  Then she asked, "Really, Chrissa, are you ready to be a mother and do a good job at it?  Are you committed to this child who will be dependent solely on you?  What do you want to do ?"   After lots of crying and soul-searching and knowing I had freedom of choice I said, "I want to keep this baby Ma. ."  She said,  "Jesus Christ!  If it's a girl you better name it after me!!" 

I had a girl and named her, Susan, after my mom.  My daughter is every single bit of her grandmother.  Smart, Independent, Hard-headed and Opinionated, Free Spirited, Kind and Loving in every aspect.  

Mom stood by me all through the twenty-two restless years of marriage, kicking me in the ass if I needed it.  When I got divorced she stood by and breathed a sigh of relief with me, cried like hell with me for hurting a man I didn't want to hurt.  He was a good man but not a man I was in love with. He wasn't in love with me either.   He loved other things and was much more committed to those. 

When I fell absolutely, hopelessly,  madly in love with my Mike, she loved him that much too and told me that he was O.K.  I felt like I was betraying my family.  She told me I wasn't betraying anyone and that I should follow my heart.  "You only live once and most people never really get to be ga-ga in love.  Go for it Chrissa and if it don't work out, I'll be here to pick up the pieces".

When she was first diagnosed with breast cancer, mom always told me "You can't go making wallets (end up in the nut house) Chrissa, you've got to be tough." So I was. I didn't think I had it in me to be so strong when I was so scared.  Mom was the half to my whole and I just could not imagine my life without her in it.  She was the strong one.  As she became weaker, it was very, very difficult for me to accept.

I had dinner with her one evening, laughing and chatting.  Two days later I was at her house calling an ambulance.  She couldn't walk and had double vision.  She realized that it was bad. The cancer had spread to her brain and three, long months later she was gone.  But, I wasn't with he when she died and that makes me feel so guilty  that I can barely stand it.  My daughter was with her last and that lends a little comfort to me but I WASN'T WITH HER.   I was there almost every single moment since she was in the hospital but one hour before she died we had talked about all kinds of stuff and I sang to her and shaved her hairy chin (which I have too).  I was home five minutes when I got the call telling me that she had passed away and I was absolutely devastated. I wanted to be with her but I wasn't ....the guilt set in.  I've cried so many times and still feel so much anger about it.  Three years later I still have to push that guilt out of my mind and heart or I'll go making wallets.  

I think to myself that maybe, just maybe, mom didn't want me there when she died.  We had spent a great day together. Laughing.  Storytelling.  Memory-sharing. Singing.  Maybe that's the way she wanted our last mother/daughter moments to be.

Maybe.

Merry Christmas Mom

The Holidays are approaching and I just dragged boxes of Snowmen out from underneath my back porch stairs.  I've collected these snowmen for many years and cherish each and every one of them.  They sit pompously displayed on a shelf that once was in my hallway but is now in my new dining room since I knocked a wall out in the summer.

As the Holidays approach I remember my mom.  She loved Christmas with a passion, especially the decorating part of it.  During the last five years of her life, after Iris died, she didn't want to decorate alone so I would always be the designated decorator (worker).  Mom's house was very large and DRAFTY.  She kept her heat so low I had to keep my coat on most of the time.  Oh, I would pitch a fit sometimes and go to mom's house with a bad attitude (which I regret now).  I didn't want to have to pull her tree, ornaments, and thousand boxes of Christmas shit all the way up from the basement.   I didn't want to have to put up her tree and decorate it. I didn't want to decorate her fireplace mantle while she sat  in her chair with her two spoiled cats in her lap.  She had A LOT of Christmas stuff and a very, big house!! One year I went to her house with such a horrible attitude.  I was MAD that I was the one who had to do all of that work and boy, even though I was an adult, I acted like a child. How can a daughter be MAD when her mom has cancer, is bald, fighting for her life for 15 years, and weak?  I was just MAD.  I was MAD because my marriage of 24 years was in the shithole and I was going through divorce.  I wasn't thinking about her at this time.  I was wrapped up in ME.  Somehow mom understood this and never said a word about my attitude.  She just asked me " What's your fucking problem?  I have fucking cancer". After mom said that to me I got on past my own, selfish issues and moved on with decorating.  I have so many regrets about that now and I'm sure Mom is laughing at my guilt. 

Now I reflect on those memories.  Christmases spent with my mom.  She always lit the fireplace, had Christmas music filling the house and wine-o-plenty.  After I was mad I realized I was actually having a good time.  When I was a big grump, trudging boxes up from the basement, she laughed at me, took photos and said, "Oh Chrissa, someday you'll miss these days."  And, that I do.  We laughed, shared juicy gossip, reminisced about Christmases long ago.  Boy, it's amazing the gossip the two of us juiced about.   It was so much fun, so much laughter and so much ease. 

I would do anything to have mom back, sitting in her chair, watching me decorate her big old, drafty house.   I would do anything to see her lighting a fireplace, pouring me a glass of wine and selecting Dean Martin Christmas music just for me. 

All I have is a wooden box, that I talk to all of the time, with her ashes in it.  I decorate her box for all of the holidays but I especially decorate it at Christmas Time.  She'd like that and is most likely laughing at me for decorating a box of ashes.  Mom had that kind of humor. 

How much I took for granted is a sin.  How much I had I think I knew.  How much I miss I never expected. 

Merry Christmas Mom.  I love you.

Haunted...in a Good Way

Haven't been on this blog for awhile. I enjoy writing and sharing my day to day thoughts and goings on. But unfortunately I'm not confident when it comes to sharing my writing. Really, who cares, right? If no one reads this crud, there is still nothing to lose!! And so I go....

As you all know if you have read (from my last few posts) things haven't been the most super-fantastic for me. I lost my job and even more importantly, my mom passed away. It's been a tough past couple of months but it could have been a lot tougher.

I was really close with my mom - not just as an adult but since I was a kid. When ma got sick she she CONSTANTLY told me..."Chrissa, when I croak, you better not go nuts. If you do, I'll f&cking HAUNT YOU! Mom was always reminding me that if I went into some sort of depression or cuckoo-ness when she died that she'd HAUNT me. I knew and know now that she would never really haunt me but her words did.

She's gone. I cried. I miss her something terrible but I know mom wants me to be happy and not dwell on the fact that she is gone. And so that's what I have been trying to do since October 26. That's the day she left this world.

I made it a point to ENJOY my Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. I cooked, decorated, shopped and enjoyed my family. Sometimes I had "inklings of guilt" because mom wasn't here to enjoy it too but then I remembered that it was her WISH OF WISHES for me to continue enjoying these things in life.

Mom does haunt me. But in a good way. He words haunt me. Her words of praise and confidence in me. When I was depressed over all the things I felt I screwed up in life, she'd come over make me tea, cuddle me in bed, gently caress my hair and tell me that I was a strong woman. She'd tell me that she knew what I was doing was hard but it was important that I was doing what was right for me no matter how hard it was at the time. She'd give me a kick in the ass and tell me to "get on with life". Mom never let me wallow in self-pity for long. She encouraged my creativity and reminded me of what a good mother I was. She told me she would NEVER EVER have wanted any other daughter than me because she thought I was the best daughter EVER. She was so proud of me. Constantly, for years, mom told me that she knew I was STRONG.

That's what haunts me. Mom's words that I am strong. She was the strongest woman I have ever known and that strength is running through my veins every day. Thanks mom.

Remembering My Mother

My mother passed away on Tuesday, October 26, 2010.

Good Lord! She was a great mother!

I miss her. I miss talking to her on the phone every night. I miss her swearing at me. I miss her...EVERYTHING.

My mom was the very best mother in the world. She had no contentions. Her only contention was that a person could not laugh at her corney jokes, accept her own ways and love her for who she was. Mom was very true to her very own self.

I find myself here tonight, wanting to share the whole story about my mothers life.

My mom was my best friend, closest confidant and always....ALWAYS...picked my side. I loved her and she loved me unconditionally. It was great to have someone on my side all of the time. It had been that way since my childhood, teen-age years and into adulthood. Lots of daughters have ups and downs with their mom's but I think my relationship with my ma was pretty much always UP.

Don't get me wrong, we have our spats. But they never last longer than a day. And they were always about something stupid.

One spat lasted a few days, but I was kinda trashed when I ticked her off so after lots of teasing she forgave me. She's was best. My mom a.k.a. "The Suz" had a great sense of humor! God, how we laughed together.

She was a super-fantastic photographer and writer. I wish I had half her talent . She swore like a trucker, cooked like Julia child , and decorated better than anything I've seen on HGTV! Mom loved and made the best dirty martini this side of heaven. She knew myself and her grandaughter, Michelle, preferred a good bottle of Boujeles wine so she surprised us and bought an entire CASE of it!

Mom was the bomb.

What I know is that even though I am 47 years old I still valued my Mothers opinion. I knew she would never steer me in the wrong direction. I believed that when my mom told me I was right then I was right. I knew when my mom told me I was wrong then I was wrong.

Rewind. 40 years - one of my earliest memories of mom. I am four. Sitting on the front porch of our tiny Chicago bungalow, head tucked in, arms cradling my knees and studying my new, red ,KED gym-shoes. Mom comes out the door in jeans and a t-shirt ( her favorite dress code) and the white, aluminum storm-door slams behind her. "Hey Teets-a-bell! You wanna go for a walk?" She reaches her strong hand out towards me and I take it.We walk. My tiny hand tightly clenched in hers.

I want to skip. We skip. She skips. I want to sing . We sing. She sang. We walk and talk and walk and talk. I feel so loved and important. There is nowhere else I want to be. I absolutely adored my mom.

Even though my she is no longer here in body with me I know her spirit is. My hand is still clenched in hers. We still walk, we still talk, we still sing. Our song was like no other. I’ll miss my best friend and my beautiful mother.