Storms
Sometimes life punches you in the gut. For no particular reason, other than an overwhelming sense of gloom or sadness that seems to come out of nowhere.
I don't get these emotional assaults often, but, when I do, they seem to knock me right off my feet. I am left scrambling, trying to regain my balance and my sense that everything is alright in the world.
Yesterday was one of those days. It started out great, with a visit from my daughter and my grandchildren. There's never a chance for sorrow to rear it's ugly self when I am in their presence. They, are my joy.
It was time for my granddaughter to be in a big girl bed. She had been sleeping in her toddler bed for 2 years, but she really grew over the summer, and she could no longer stretch out in this little bed. I inherited a pretty day bed from my mom when she passed away. My granddaughter loves it, she calls it a princess bed. I promised her it would be hers when she wanted it. It was time now. As my husband began taking the bed apart, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with emotion. Excitement for my little granddaughter, her first big girl bed, was a milestone for her. She was growing up so fast, and my
feelings were bittersweet. Knowing one day, she wouldn't need me the same way she does now was tearing at my heartstrings.
I watched the bed, come down the stairs, piece by piece. I remembered when my mom bought it, and how, one Friday afternoon, she and I put it together. We struggled with that bed for 2 hours and it still wasn't right. We figured out it was missing rubber washers. My mom, the original MacGyver, made her own, by cutting an old rubber drain board that she no longer used. It worked perfectly. We managed to get the bed put together. We laughed, all afternoon, sometimes so hard we had tears streaming down our cheeks! Well, I again had tears streaming down my cheeks, not from uncontrollable fits of laughter, but from the deep sense of loss of missing my mom. We could no longer share those crazy times and the feeling of sadness and loneliness was palpable.
I had to snap out of this funk, so I went to grab the set of sheets I had bought my granddaughter last year. They were Tinkerbell. She had seen them and thought they were adorable. I picked them up for her, knowing this day would come. I pulled them out of their package and threw them in the washing machine. This way they would be soft and smelling nice for her first night in her new bed.
I walked back upstairs, that dark cloud still looming over my head. Trying to keep busy, I began to sort various bedding for my granddaughter. Winter sheets, extra blankets, linens she would need for the bed. The sheets were ready to go in the dryer, so downstairs I went. After putting the sheets in the dryer, I opened up the blanket cupboard, and pulled out the soft pink blanket my mom had made. I would give this to my little girl. It went with the daybed.
Out of habit, I smelled the blanket, and I could smell my mom. Her sweet scent was on the blanket. I could feel my mom there, in my laundry room, I buried my face in that blanket, breathing her in. Mom? I missed her, and all I wanted was for her to take me in her arms, hug me and tell me everything was going to be OK. I don't know how long I stood there, with my face in that blanket sobbing. I wanted words of wisdom from my mom, and I wanted to stop hurting.
I told myself I was being silly. I pulled myself together, and placed the blanket, a little damp from my tears onto the pile of bedding for my daughter's house.
I remembered my mom, after my grandma died. She too, had her days where she struggled. I didn't understand it then. Nobody can, unless they have experienced it. I wish I could have been there for my mom during those times. But, I think she didn't want me to see it, or experience it, because in doing so, a threshold is passed, where one can never go back again. I think it was her way of protecting me from pain that she knew would one day be inevitable, but not that day.
I thought of my children and grandchildren, and my maternal sense of protection kicked in. I didn't want them to see this. It was like the last vestiges of innocence to remain.
Everyday doesn't have sunshine, some days, it's rainy and some days, it's stormy. Thankfully, the storms are few and far between. True, they wreak havoc, but these life storms let us appreciate the good days even more. My storm passed, it always does.
This morning, on the horizon, a beautiful sunrise was waiting for me, ushering in a new day.
I don't get these emotional assaults often, but, when I do, they seem to knock me right off my feet. I am left scrambling, trying to regain my balance and my sense that everything is alright in the world.
Yesterday was one of those days. It started out great, with a visit from my daughter and my grandchildren. There's never a chance for sorrow to rear it's ugly self when I am in their presence. They, are my joy.
It was time for my granddaughter to be in a big girl bed. She had been sleeping in her toddler bed for 2 years, but she really grew over the summer, and she could no longer stretch out in this little bed. I inherited a pretty day bed from my mom when she passed away. My granddaughter loves it, she calls it a princess bed. I promised her it would be hers when she wanted it. It was time now. As my husband began taking the bed apart, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with emotion. Excitement for my little granddaughter, her first big girl bed, was a milestone for her. She was growing up so fast, and my
feelings were bittersweet. Knowing one day, she wouldn't need me the same way she does now was tearing at my heartstrings.
I watched the bed, come down the stairs, piece by piece. I remembered when my mom bought it, and how, one Friday afternoon, she and I put it together. We struggled with that bed for 2 hours and it still wasn't right. We figured out it was missing rubber washers. My mom, the original MacGyver, made her own, by cutting an old rubber drain board that she no longer used. It worked perfectly. We managed to get the bed put together. We laughed, all afternoon, sometimes so hard we had tears streaming down our cheeks! Well, I again had tears streaming down my cheeks, not from uncontrollable fits of laughter, but from the deep sense of loss of missing my mom. We could no longer share those crazy times and the feeling of sadness and loneliness was palpable.
I had to snap out of this funk, so I went to grab the set of sheets I had bought my granddaughter last year. They were Tinkerbell. She had seen them and thought they were adorable. I picked them up for her, knowing this day would come. I pulled them out of their package and threw them in the washing machine. This way they would be soft and smelling nice for her first night in her new bed.
I walked back upstairs, that dark cloud still looming over my head. Trying to keep busy, I began to sort various bedding for my granddaughter. Winter sheets, extra blankets, linens she would need for the bed. The sheets were ready to go in the dryer, so downstairs I went. After putting the sheets in the dryer, I opened up the blanket cupboard, and pulled out the soft pink blanket my mom had made. I would give this to my little girl. It went with the daybed.
Out of habit, I smelled the blanket, and I could smell my mom. Her sweet scent was on the blanket. I could feel my mom there, in my laundry room, I buried my face in that blanket, breathing her in. Mom? I missed her, and all I wanted was for her to take me in her arms, hug me and tell me everything was going to be OK. I don't know how long I stood there, with my face in that blanket sobbing. I wanted words of wisdom from my mom, and I wanted to stop hurting.
I told myself I was being silly. I pulled myself together, and placed the blanket, a little damp from my tears onto the pile of bedding for my daughter's house.
I remembered my mom, after my grandma died. She too, had her days where she struggled. I didn't understand it then. Nobody can, unless they have experienced it. I wish I could have been there for my mom during those times. But, I think she didn't want me to see it, or experience it, because in doing so, a threshold is passed, where one can never go back again. I think it was her way of protecting me from pain that she knew would one day be inevitable, but not that day.
I thought of my children and grandchildren, and my maternal sense of protection kicked in. I didn't want them to see this. It was like the last vestiges of innocence to remain.
Everyday doesn't have sunshine, some days, it's rainy and some days, it's stormy. Thankfully, the storms are few and far between. True, they wreak havoc, but these life storms let us appreciate the good days even more. My storm passed, it always does.
This morning, on the horizon, a beautiful sunrise was waiting for me, ushering in a new day.
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