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Here we go again...
Mom and the boys, January 2004 I just read Kim over at the Frog and I can wait for you whilst you go read her post first.
First off, let's cut to the chase shall we? This isn't a successful blog. The majority of my hits come from folks wanting the Carrabba's Herb recipe. I can live with that I think. I have no illusions of grandeur here. My little niche will never become the next Pioneer Woman and I don't aspire to that. Ok, well maybe. Just a little.
But I have to wonder why I really started this blog. Initially it was my place to force my views upon the world. Thinking that the world really needed my views and could be a better place if y'all would just Mrs. Ohtobify the world. I still think that for the most part because we live in one screwed up world my friends. And heck folks, the very least we can do is inact the Man Shopper rules.
Anyways.
Now I think that maybe I started this blog simply because I, like Kim, am motherless. Rudderless. I kid myself into thinking I throw my thoughts out to the internet in hopes of receiving back wisdom. But that rarely happens. Comments here at the Half Empty Glass are few and far between. 8.7 billion people have come to lift the Carrabba's recipe and not a one has left me a single dot or tittle. If people can't even say thanks for the recipe, I surely can't expect comments on the important things in life. And death.
Maybe I have this blog because I don't have my Mom any more? Because I can't go to her for advice. But when I really think about it, advice wasn't my Mom's strong suit. I can't recall her saying I should do this or that. Mom's strong suit was listening without judging and if ever there was a person that should have been harshly judged: it was me. With all my hairbrained ideas and stupid things I did. But Mom never judged.
So how do I measure success when it comes to my mother? There. There I am a complete failure. I failed her. I failed my kids. I failed my father. My brothers. My husband. My neice and nephews. I couldn't save her. Well will you look at how important I am. Like I was the one in control of the swirling vortex of cancer that stole, yes stole Mom from us. I failed her. Period.
As I sit here crying I have to ask, "God! When will this end?" Please take this pain from me because I have carried it for way too long now. Logically I know and understand the 5 stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. There is one little hiccup in that process though and that is the fact that 5 very long (and very short) years later I am still on stage 2.
I don't ever see moving past stage 2. Anger. I don't know how to. Maybe if I slide into stage 3 I could then scoot on over into stage 4. But no. Because no matter what, this thing, her death, is not something I will ever accept. Acknowledge sure. Accept? No way. Because then I will have to admit to myself that she really is gone.
So what is success?
I have no clue.
~ame
Death is so difficult to deal with. I am fortunate that my parents (and my in-laws, who are as good as parents) are all still alive. I even still have one grandmother. But I know that time is passing. I desire, everyday, to be closer to them....emotionally and physically (they all live 3+ hours away). And yet, as I desire those things, I know that being closer will only make it harder for me after they die.
I remember when my other grandmother died. My Dad was a complete wreck. I was only 13. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to help. He was a completely different person after that. I kept wondering where my Dad had gone. When was he coming home. Years passed. Then, one day, perhaps 5 or 6 years later, I noticed that things were different. He was more like his old self. Daddy was back. It was like a breath of fresh air.
I pray that I can handle it when my parents die.....for my kids sake. I know it's not going to be easy.
I prayed for you this morning....and for FrogPondsRock as well.
You are not alone.....
God is here. And so are your readers....even if we are few and far between.
Oh...and I haven't even check out that Carraba's recipe. Didn't know it was here. Going to make a point to visit your blog only for the posts.....and not for that recipe.
Shoebotmom said... June 15, 2010 at 8:49 AM
Thank you for your kind words - I'm sorry but I was in just a lonely sad place when I wrote that.
Mrs. Ohtobe said... June 15, 2010 at 9:39 AM
Now you know how I feel....except I don't care if I get comments or not.
Rob said... June 15, 2010 at 12:09 PM
I don't care about the comments but you would think someone would say thanks. Anyone. I should take it down and let the world be without that recipe LOL
Mrs. Ohtobe said... June 15, 2010 at 12:49 PM
You really helped me with your kind comments you know. On my saddest posts I looked for your comments because I knew that you understood.
Now that I am not so self absorbed I can see how much those comments cost you in terms of your own sadness and grief.
I am still very angry with how shabbily my brother treated Mum when she was dying. I am trying to get over that but I don't know how to really as it is still too raw.
Thank you for being my blog friend Mrs Oh. thank you very much xoxox
Kim (frogpondsrock) said... June 16, 2010 at 5:42 PM
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