Friday
Jan082010
The Day I Tried To Live
Friday, January 8, 2010 at 10:12AM | Mr Lady
Yesterday was a day like any other day. The kids went to school, I did some work, my pantry got cleaned and and my kitchen got a good scrub. My son checked the mail and found a package from Bonnie Burton and Lucasfilm in the box. We opened it, messed with all the Star Wars stuff inside, and then had dinner. I sent one picture of the stuff to Twitter and one to my ex, who is arguably the World's Biggest Star Wars fan. He called, mostly to tell me I was a succubus, but partly to catch up, and as I hung up I wished him a happy 35th birthday tomorrow.
Right about then I really realized that today is his 35th birthday. That means it's January 8th. It's also Elvis' birthday and the day that my boss and his wife find out what flavor baby they're having. And if it's January 8th, tomorrow is the 9th. For the first time, um, ever, it just crept up on me like that, when I wasn't even looking for it.
One thing, with sickening predictability, has continued to lead directly to the other.
It's been 18 years since January 9th. 18 years is a long time to be without your mother. 18 years is just enough time, apparently, for that scar to start to heal. January 7th was no less hard, no less frightening, and yet I managed to let the mundane little aspects of this new life I was re-born into 18 years ago drown that hardness, that fear, right out until just about dinner-time. Maybe there's an actual reason that 18 is the year we are considered adults after all.
And while I was thinking about all of this last night, I realized that in two weeks my little baby nephew will turn 18, too. Hello, one thing...meet the other.
I just cannot believe that it took me all of this time to realize that 13 days after everything I ever knew and loved ended, everything he was ever to know and love began. That maybe in some weird way, that boy who was born in a hospital bed on January 22nd, 1992 in Fresno, California is the new version of the child that died on January 9th, 1992 in a telephone booth at the Philadelphia International Airport. That maybe that explains why I love him so much more than is reasonable for an auntie-in-law-by-adoption to love a nephew she didn't even meet until he was seven. That maybe he's the ying to my yang, my balance, my reckoning...maybe he's my Phoenix.
Maybe my nephew is what makes all of those awful years, all of those terrifying hours, okay. Or maybe it's the dishes that always have to be washed and the baby dolls that have to be played with and the newsletters that have to be written and the toilets that have to get unplugged. Maybe it's this new life that is so much more real and consistent and predictable and mundane than that old one ever was. Maybe it's this family which isn't glued together with a shoddy DNA code and the stickiness of fear, but that it's my family, my choice, and we hold each other together with so much more love than I ever thought the world was capable of feeling.
Whatever it is, it's working. I almost forgot that every January has a 9 in it. I was almost able to let it pass my by this year. Tomorrow my husband and I will leave the kids tied to the radiators and go out to dinner. We'll drink a bottle of fabulous wine and eat something with unpronounceable ingredients in it and we will celebrate this life that is perfect and wonderful and all I ever needed, this life that only took the shattered remnants of an old, ruined one to build itself up on. Maybe we'll go to the gym after, maybe we'll come home, watch a movie, and catch up on 9 days of New Year's sexolutions. Whatever happens tomorrow, well, it just happens. This life will keep marching on and I will keep living it.
Come what may, I will keep living.
Right about then I really realized that today is his 35th birthday. That means it's January 8th. It's also Elvis' birthday and the day that my boss and his wife find out what flavor baby they're having. And if it's January 8th, tomorrow is the 9th. For the first time, um, ever, it just crept up on me like that, when I wasn't even looking for it.
One thing, with sickening predictability, has continued to lead directly to the other.
It's been 18 years since January 9th. 18 years is a long time to be without your mother. 18 years is just enough time, apparently, for that scar to start to heal. January 7th was no less hard, no less frightening, and yet I managed to let the mundane little aspects of this new life I was re-born into 18 years ago drown that hardness, that fear, right out until just about dinner-time. Maybe there's an actual reason that 18 is the year we are considered adults after all.
And while I was thinking about all of this last night, I realized that in two weeks my little baby nephew will turn 18, too. Hello, one thing...meet the other.
I just cannot believe that it took me all of this time to realize that 13 days after everything I ever knew and loved ended, everything he was ever to know and love began. That maybe in some weird way, that boy who was born in a hospital bed on January 22nd, 1992 in Fresno, California is the new version of the child that died on January 9th, 1992 in a telephone booth at the Philadelphia International Airport. That maybe that explains why I love him so much more than is reasonable for an auntie-in-law-by-adoption to love a nephew she didn't even meet until he was seven. That maybe he's the ying to my yang, my balance, my reckoning...maybe he's my Phoenix.
Maybe my nephew is what makes all of those awful years, all of those terrifying hours, okay. Or maybe it's the dishes that always have to be washed and the baby dolls that have to be played with and the newsletters that have to be written and the toilets that have to get unplugged. Maybe it's this new life that is so much more real and consistent and predictable and mundane than that old one ever was. Maybe it's this family which isn't glued together with a shoddy DNA code and the stickiness of fear, but that it's my family, my choice, and we hold each other together with so much more love than I ever thought the world was capable of feeling.
Whatever it is, it's working. I almost forgot that every January has a 9 in it. I was almost able to let it pass my by this year. Tomorrow my husband and I will leave the kids tied to the radiators and go out to dinner. We'll drink a bottle of fabulous wine and eat something with unpronounceable ingredients in it and we will celebrate this life that is perfect and wonderful and all I ever needed, this life that only took the shattered remnants of an old, ruined one to build itself up on. Maybe we'll go to the gym after, maybe we'll come home, watch a movie, and catch up on 9 days of New Year's sexolutions. Whatever happens tomorrow, well, it just happens. This life will keep marching on and I will keep living it.
Come what may, I will keep living.
Reader Comments (33)
You're doing it right.
I had my revelation last year. I looked at the calendar, and it was June 7th. It shook me a bit. My mom had passed away 14 year prior, on June 6th. I had missed it. I couldn't believe it, I usually take a moment to sit and think about her. It made me sad, but it also made me realize that I couldn't dwell on it. Yes it had shaped my life, I was only 13 at the time, but I couldn't let it *matter* so much any more. If that makes sense.
*hugs*
"The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof." Richard Bach
You chose your family well.
And as someone who has just finished one book in the story of her life, and is starting on the sequel, you are as always, truly, an inspiration.
Happy Birthday Baby Girl!
It is a bizarre thing to look in the rearview mirror and see what you have survived.
Give it the finger and hit the gas.
Enjoy your celebration dinner!
You have come so very far. I just know everyone is so very proud of you! Congrats. I know it was scary but so worthwhile. Not only did you make it to the other side, but you have claimed it, tamed it, and made it your bitch! Job well done.
Funny how you stumble on words that resonate just when you need them most....only 16 years to go. I lost my Mom just 2 years ago and I still find myself all too often wondering if life or I will ever feel completely normal again. She was my best friend, sister, mentor and guide and I've stumbled a lot to find my equilibrium in her absence. She left us on my youngest daughter's birthday and they were equally close so July 26 is now the most bittersweet day I can imagine...still as with your nephew it is my daughters smile and laughter and soul that move me forward and it is the love in my Mother's eyes as she moved on to her next chapter that keeps me moving forward and searching for that inner peace she gave us all effortlessly.
Every year it gets better. I still get the occasional sucker slaps with the accompanying scream, "You abandoned your mother!?!" But, they are fewer and further between these days.
Thanks so much for your perspective. You're like the teenager to my middle-schooler. Advice from someone who's been there helps more than anything.
I look forward to the year that Mother's Day is just for me and not the memories.
Happy birthday, baby. Here's to forgetting all about it (sort of), and having enough of the sex to be impregnated at least six times (not making babies), and having a glass to celebrate (for me).
Come what may, if that isn't the truth.
and keep doing it well, girl!
The Day I Tried To Live: http://www.whiskeyinmysippycup.com/2010/01/08/almost/
its' funny how llife just sneaks up on you like that...one word, one thought, one little bit of nothing...and here it is.
I keep trying to leave my shattered life behind...but she keeps showing up, banging on my door, telling me it was all my fault.
Happy birthday.
I just decided many years ago it was easier to forgive (and not forget) than to tell my mom how I really felt. And not have to go through the awkwardness of trying to explain to the family members I actually like. I use my childhood as the guide for what NOT to do and move on, day by day.
Of course when she brings up what I did in my childhood and how I should treat my kids, I laugh because its like fiction to me.
i love this. i can't even tell you why. every time i try to explain it i am forced to delete because it doesn't sound right. you survived, and then you lived - i love that you can tell the story. my sadness for that little girl is made a bit smaller by the telling of story of the woman she grew up to be. you dig?
I know.
Boy, do I know.
16 years ago this coming March, my Mommy decided life was not worth living.
She exited.
She left us.
Yes, there is a lot of pain. Guilt, anger, sympathy, love, forgiveness.
Yes, it has taken this long that The Date has finally become nearly meaningless.
Yes, there is life. After death.
I rejoice in your ability to embrace life, fate, and all of it's amazing and amusing messages.
Thank you for sharing.
It gets easier after 20 years. 1986 is when my mother, friend and superhero left me for a better place. The first 15 years were tough to deal with, yet I have found as time goes on I actually don't notice the date of 9-28-86 unless I am looking for it or looking for something in it.
Don't look back........ And as we say here in Texas.. Happiness is Lubbock in your rear view mirror!
Wow. Just wow. You're so strong.
Happy 18th birthday my dear. We all love you.
love you ...
Food? Did you say food and wine? Did you go to Americas? That is my FAVORITE.
Is it okay that I think this is a perfect post? P-E-R-F-E-C-T post.
Sometimes family and loved ones isn't dictated by common DNA. I too have a nephew who I love with all my heart, one that just makes me feel like a better person when he's around, one that perhaps needs the best that I can give him because nobody else in the family will. And he's my nephew only by marriage, on my wife's side of the family.
And there's days where I wish I could be reborn as well. Leave the past, the parts of me I don't like behind, and become someone new. To be able to look back and say "that was me once upon a time, but isn't now and never will be again".
Happy 18th Birthday. Perhaps it creeping up on you is a good thing (just read your post from last year).
I'm glad you did what you had to do 18 years ago, otherwise I'm sure I'd never have "met" you. Keep on living, girl.
Happy 18th! You have so much to celebrate, and I hope that at least a small part of you recognizes that part of what you should be celebrating is your own resilience and amazingness.
What a strong and beautiful woman you have become. Happy Birthday!
Eight years ago my dad decided to take his life and my five and ten year old brothers' with him. It's not the same, but that day I became someone else completely. There is a before and after for me too. I get your whole outlook on that.
Keep on loving living your life.
Moo is eighteen.
I can't imagine her having to cope with what you did.
Happy Re-Birthday my lovely.
I still miss my Dad, and I was 45 when he died 10 years ago.
My Hubby lost his parents young however, and I know that has a lot to do with who he is.
Looks like you have turned a corner.
happy 18th gorgeous one. you have much strength and survivorship to celebrate. being one who also takes note to anniversaries and suckiversaries, i can somewhat relate. there are times when they creep up on you as you're carrying on with the life you now live, and there are other times when the date is all you can focus on. but you're still putting one foot in front of the other, acknowledging what you've come from and who you are today. that in itself is true beauty. cheers to you, love.
I almost missed the 9th also...it's my sisters birthday.
I'm grateful we get to read as you do.
This is the only thing that's real.
Very big hugs. Happy rebirthday (belated).
Just wanted to say how much I enjoy reading your epiphanies.. err stories.. err life moments, pretty inspiring and funny. I too kinda wonder how when a life passes if it comes back to make things right again... would be nice.
Anyways, hope your evening was fabulous.
I refuse to delurk there, so I will here. I make my own way, ya know?
I've known for a year if I ever stopped ghosting your blog, it would be with a love letter, so why fight the mojo?
I feel echo's of me in you.
There is no fear more overwhelming than the fear of a child who knows she is powerless.
There is no dread deeper than knowing what is about to happen, but not knowing where it will land this time.
There are no dreams like those of a child who has to live in, "Someday", because today would crush her.
There is no resolve like that of the mother, who swore to herself 18 years ago, "When I have my own family, we will not be like this"!
Every day you live up to your standards is a day you Prove Them Wrong.
Happy Rebirth Day.
The life you've made is finally overshadowing the life you were born into.
Congratulations girl!
I can't think of a better birthday present!