Thursday, May 23, 2013

It's 3:00 a.m., I Must Be Lonely...

She says baby
It's 3 am I must be lonely
When she says baby
Well I can't help but be scared of it all sometimes
Says the rain's gonna wash away I believe it

Matchbox 20 - 3AM

Wow, it's been awhile since I did a middle of the night post. The lyrics to this song just popped into my head (and if I haven't written another post with these lyrics, I might be very surprised with my history of insomnia.
Everyone's asleep. Even the animals are all asleep. I can't even hear noise from Ben's room, although that might be because I threatened him when he woke me up the other morning at 4:30 laughing and shouting at someone on his interactive computer game. Are they still playing World of Warcraft, or is there a new and better game to be addicted to?

This is my new normal. I am so sleepy during the day that I do nothing but sleep. I sleep 7-8 hours until I have to get up to feed the cats and get Joey off to school. Then I go back to bed for 2-3 hours. I'm up just enough for lunch and then it's another nap. If I'm having a particularly bad day, I also fall asleep while Justin is making dinner. I mean literally sitting in my recliner, sewing in hand, television on, and the next thing I know, Justin is asking me if I'm ready to eat.

Then bedtime comes and it starts all over again. And it doesn't seem to matter whether or not I slept a lot or a little the day before. I'm going to be sleepy again all day, even though I will sleep (mostly) at night.

I think all of this loss is becoming more real. Because my mom lived in South Carolina, I've been somehow trying to convince myself that I could really just go visit anytime. And yet, in the back of my mind, I'm all Dude! You can go visit Dad, but Mom won't be there. And then it hits me in the back of the skull like a rock that Mom's gone somewhere that gets no cell phone service.

God, I miss her so much.

After she died, I took every VHS tape I had over to Costco and had them converted to three DVDs. They gave me an extra copy, which I sent to my brother. They were all videos of my kids as they were growing up and my parents took most of them. Actually, I think my dad took most of them while Justin and I were away on the weekends, meaning they were babysitting my kids. Meaning Mom was going to be on a lot of them? I don't know, because I watched only part of the first one and had to turn it off. Ben was about 7-8 months old and there was my mom with him on her lap playing patty cake. He used to beg for that game.

Costco, being really cool, had given me an extra set and I sent the other 3 to my brother out in California. I'm hoping he can watch them for me and tell me how much I need to prepare myself before I try again. There are little pictures on the front, where each new section begins, and I see Mom in a lot of the first video, but not so much in the other two. Meaning nothing, because it's only a slice of one spot on the video.

There have been a lot of days that I've reached for my phone to either text or call her and then had to either set it down or text or call someone else. Usually I call my dad, sometimes my brother. The only other people besides Justin who kind of understand what this is doing to me, although sometimes I think women grieve differently than men do. They seem to get back to their lives fairly quickly, even with a large loss, and the grief will hit them from time to time. Women (it seems to me) tend to think about it constantly, cry considerably, and try to find ways not to forget.

When Sprint lost the only voice mail message I had saved from my mom, I thought I was going to lose it on the customer service representative. Apparently, you can back up emails and texts, but you can't back up voice mails. Why not? Why? Why? Why? That was the last message I had from my mother, who I will never talk to on this earth again and you lost it??? And it was their fault - something in the network Justin says. I will so be getting another provider when my contract is up. Which won't give me back my voice mail, but will give me some satisfaction that they aren't getting my money anymore after they lost the most important message I could have had in the last year.

Mother's Day was the first holiday without her and it was agony. I had no one to send flowers to. I picked out a card, wrote a poem, and sent it down to Dad to tape up on Mom's columbarium crypt (where her ashes are kept at the cemetery).

Sometimes, I hear the voice of that teacher guy from South Park who keeps saying, "Drugs are bad" in that weird voice of his. Except mine says, "Cancer is bad."

Dude, you have no idea.

Miss you, Mom


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