My very first post, I guess I should justify why I'm doing this? I'm finding writing to be good therapy. The last few years of my life have been crazy and writing is helping me to make sense of it all: Infertilty, adoption, foster care, job lay offs, going back to school, obesity, crazy pets, RAD, failed IVF, oh and my favorite: Huntington's disease. For so long, I've tried to pretend that this disease was just something that happened to my mom. She died March 1, 2000. I tell most people that she died from a blood clot in her brain, but that's not entirely accurate. She died 6 weeks after the blood clot was discovered, but she never would have had it if it wasn't for Huntington's disease.
This disease robbed me of a normal childhood. Mom was embarassing, she talked funny, she walked funny, said the wrong thing at the wrong time. But she was MY mom. The mom I want to remember was the mom I had when I was:
Age 5: We used to drive up to Green Bay and see her best friend. I, of course, had to have a big bowl of buttered noodles. Then there was all those Friday nights when we'd eat cheese balls and watch TV together because dad was working late.
Age 6: She saw how I had changed because of a mean teacher, and got me started in gymnastics.
Age 8: Knowing how much Dad was against it, she fought him to get me into the school's swimming lessons because she knew how much it meant to me. Oh, and so many days I'd come off of the bus and the house would smell like apple bars, chili, cookies, all those yummy treats that the kids would all fight over.
Age 10: Letting me have my first slummber party. I think Dad stayed out as late as possible. The thought of 8 screaming 5th grade girls was just too much for him to handle.
Age 11: Sending me back to religious school. Sorry Mom, but this one made me mad for a very long time. You stuck to your guns, felt it was the right place for me. But in my 12 year old wisdom, I was sure it was a way to try and torture me.
Age 12: You were different...now we know it was the beginning of the disease. Why didn't you say anything?
Oh and I've promised myself not to forget that you absolutely positively had a horrible temper. God help us all when you had your period. You couldn't sing, a trait I've inherited, you had the fashion sense of a flea, a trait I'm trying very hard to overcome, and you spanked us with wooden spoons. You also danced like a fool (although you were drunk) with your sister, kept us out way too late sometimes, and ignored certain little facts of life like the fact that I was going to bleed for 5 days and not die. Don't worry, Mom, your other daughter traumatized me with the 'M' encyclopedia, and explained sex with our Donny and Marie barbie dolls. They were brother and sister for God's sake. Do you know what that did to me? We were farm kids, mom...did you really think sex was going to be a big deal?
The worst thing I think you ever did to us was to not fix that squeaky headboard. After the Donny and Marie doll incident, it was more than I could take.
Happy birthday, Mom. Today you would have been 61. I hope you and Grandma celebrated together today.
No comments:
Post a Comment