A Year Without Her

Father's Day last year.

Ugh, where to begin?

Well, it sure has been a blur! The days seemed fused together, all of them filled with a combination of the following: tears, self-doubt, self-realizations, family, friends, CrossFit, escapes, counseling, and many doctor appointments. All of the days complied every emotion that you can conjure (times a million). There have been days where I couldn't even get out of bed, and moments when I truly felt the tears were not going to stop. I had no idea that a person could cry so much, and for so long. At some point I thought my tear ducts would just tap out, and if you have ever cried that much you know that they almost start to. From anxiety attacks, hyperventilating, to swollen eyes in the morning (which is a great look when going to work), it is all just part of MY fucking emotional roller-coaster I'm still riding. Holding the rails tightly and taking every turn as they come.  

Today, April 25, is not the day my world came crashing down, but it was the last day I actually saw my mom. It was a nice, cool, Wednesday night, and my mom knew I didn’t have night class or CrossFit (‘cause we all know I schedule things AROUND CrossFit), so she invited us over for dinner along with my brother and Ness. My dad had been craving pizza, and even though she didn’t like pizza that's what was going to be on the menu. (She always spoiled my dad and meeeeeee:P) She had promised me that she would order half of the pizza without cheese, see spoiled. (Me and dairy just don’t get along. Yes, I’m a Portagee that can’t have milk! Sorry VoVo!!). We all spent the evening hanging out, around my parent's big dining room table laughing and teasing my mom as usual. I remember we were talking about my upcoming trip to New York that June. My mom loved NYC. We were discussing the double-decker bus tour I was going on because it was my friend Melissa's first time there. My mom was cracking us up because she was, of course, giving pointers as if she was a native New Yorker, standard Karen-isms. Oh, how I miss all these moments and her silly comments. 

This was the last picture taken of my
beautiful mom and her beautiful smile.

The conversation led into that coming weekend when her and my dad were headed to San Francisco to hangout with a bunch of their friends. They were all going to celebrate some upcoming birthdays that year, the big 6-0! The plan was to hit the Giant's game Friday night and then they planned to go on a ‘60s tour bus on Saturday, which included black lights and cruise down Haight and Ashbury. My mom thought she was so cool to be doing this; she was really excited! She had her outfit all set out, a tie-dyed skirt and a tank-top to match. We had went into her bedroom to decide on the perfect "hippie" jewelry that would accent her "cool threads."  We all know how much my mom loved her jewelry.

After a nice dinner and evening with my fam-bam, I started to head home; I recall I was already at the door, when for some reason something made me stop and turn around. I walked over to where my mom was standing and gave her a kiss, a hug, and told her I loved her and to have fun. I am SO beyond thankful that I had the instinct to do that. I will forever remember that as a long as I live. It’s just so surreal that that was the very last time I saw her, that I got to hug her, that I got to kiss her, that I got to tell her I love her. I, of course, had NO idea what would happen come Friday night/Saturday morning.  

Well, April 28, just three days after the dinner, was THE day that changed my life completely. I went from having the greatest mother, friend, confidant, partner, cheerleader, support system, to just not. With that awful phone call at 6:20a.m. followed with the words "Mames, she didn't make it" my entire world shattered. My family went from the five of us to the four us. It wasn't suppose to happen when I was 29. Fuck, I don't even think I would have been ready at 59, 69, 80! I just want more time with her. To share all of life's experiences with her. 29 is just too young to lose one's mother. 

From my 5th Birthday. 

It had always been my mom and I. Always. Since I was the only girl in the bunch I developed a different relationship with my father and brothers, and since my mom has passed away the relationship dynamics have shifted. I can see it. I can sense it. It's like trying to find your footing on top of the Empire State building while scaling the perimeter. But, we are managing. It was really hard at first. We all grieve so differently. However, we are strong; We are close; We are surviving. The littlest ones: Bella, Lucas and Sayda, definitely make it so much easier to deal with. They add happy to our lives.

My Mama and her MaMa.

As I have written in my previous blogs, there are many things I miss. The phone calls, the random visits where I would go and lay on my mom's chair in her bedroom chatting and teasing her about her ironing TABLECLOTHS AND PILLOW CASES (That’s how you know your mom is a true Portagee! She even hung her ironed tablecloths in the closet! She must have learned it from her mama). 
All of these moments that I cherished, they will never happen again. It just leaves such a void.

When asked about my future, or the incessant questions about having a baby, my automatic response is “I’m just not ready.” Even though that’s a true statement, the best way I’ve described how I think about the future is this: Think of your own future, those major milestones in life that you’ve thought about, day dreamed about, planned for, etc. If you are anything like me, then you have thought about those moments in such detail, down to what you’d wear, who would be there, what would be said, little random acts that would happen. Then imagine someone taking a giant eraser and erasing all of that. It’s like starting to plan and envision your future from scratch. When I think of having a child I used to think about the moment I would find out I was pregnant and how I would tell my mom. To the many doctor’s appointments, to her being in the room when I went into labor, to dropping my kids off at her house so they could experience the love that was NaNa. The love that Bella and Lucas got to have for such a short amount of time, and the love that Sayda never got, but feels through the rest of us. I think about those moments and that’s why I am just not ready. I'm NOT putting my life on hold, I'm just trying to learn how to live my life without her. 

She was suppose to be there for all of it. I had planned it all to experience it with her. She was my mom, she was my best friend. These were the moments that we were suppose to do together. Mother-daughter moments that only a mother and daughter can share and have. I feel so fucking robbed. 

So, ya, right now, I’m learning to live my life without her. Trying to figure out how to go through my life and all experiences without sharing it with her. It’s not easy. 

All this grief, along with the depression, combined with being emotionally damaged has either triggered a pre-existing condition, or I have developed it since her passing, but my health has been an issue. I've been dealing with extremely low vitamin deficiencies that has exacerbated the depression along with my insomnia creating extreme fatigue, arm numbness, anemia, etc. (All fun stuff, right?!) I was first put on prescription medications for three months and went back to get my blood tested again. Well, nothing has changed. So, I'm now on weekly shots and back on some prescriptions and trying to figure what the hell is going on with my body. It's so frustrating to know that you do everything you can do to be a healthy person and your body is just not cooperating. I can see my WOD's suffering some (most) days at CrossFit, I am not doing as well as I know I can be. Even to the point that during the first CrossFit open WOD this year, I just lost it IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WOD! I broke down, cried pretty much through the entire workout and dropped to the floor after the time was up and sobbed. I got up, and went into the restroom and ended up on the floor with my trainer. We pretty much had a mini counseling session. That, needless to say, was embarrassing, and one of the first times that I just couldn't keep it under control in a public setting. (Thank you Renee for dealing with that hot mess!) 

I try and get through my days as best I can. I stay busy with work, night classes, homework, my thesis, CrossFit, but when you push things down and try to control them, those things have a tendency to boil over. Shit, I cry during stupid commercials. Don't even get me started on certain songs that come on the radio! I’m pretty much the most emotionally unstable I have ever been. Sometimes I think I should have a shirt made that has a warning label on it, just to prepare anyone who crosses my path. 

Besides all the issues that come with my health and my grief, the worst part of it all is not being able to call my mom and talk to her about any of it. Or anything at all for that matter. When I got back from the doctor's the second time, I just sat on the edge of my tub and bawled. Moms make everything better. They take care of you when you are sick, and kiss the things that hurt. They seem to have that magical touch that makes everything better.
These are the moments that I feel so unbelievably alone. The moments when life is just so overwhelming, when it all just seems to pile up, that is when I feel as though I am drowning. It's like my reoccurring nightmare I have had for years. I am always in the middle of the ocean, it's always at night. Sometimes the moon is bright and reflecting off the water, and other times it's pitch black. I never have a fear of drowning, it's a fear of sinking. There are moments when the waves are so intense that I can't keep afloat and bouncing like a buoy over them. Then, I sink into the darkness of the water. I always wake up in a sweat and in a panic.

This year has been filled with a lot of happy moments as well. I have been on trips to New York, Vegas, Los Angeles, the Redwoods, San Francisco and finally made it back to Disneyland with my little loves. There have been some life milestones: Sayda's arrival, getting through semesters of my master's program, CrossFit PRs, etc. These are the real moments when I have actually reached for my phone. Then reality hits and the absence is felt tenfold. She was the first person I would call when anything happened. I still have "Mom" under my favorites in my phone. I just can't delete it. I have even called it, as ridiculous as that sounds. The number is disconnected, I know this, but I still have hit 'call'. 
I even went as far as to record around ten of her voicemails I had had on my phone. They are now on my itunes. 

I do believe the nights seem to be the worse, I think of them as night fits. I go-go-go all day and when I lay my head on that pillow, my mind just won’t shut off. It starts with tears flowing down my cheeks, to the uncontrollable sobbing. I just repeatedly say "It's not fair! I need her. I need my mom. Please bring her back to me!" It was what I remember saying over and over that day after my dad called me to tell me she had passed away. It seems to be my mantra during those moments of overwhelming grief, and there are moments that I actually do believe time will reverse itself and she will be back here. I want to believe that magic is something of this world, and somehow, someone, will hear my cries and turn back the hands of time and I can have her here with me again. 

Coping with the reality of it all.... at times... IS. JUST. TOO. MUCH.

When it is too much, and the grief is so consuming, I stay in bed. Sometimes I'm in bed for days at a time. I shut myself off, shut myself down and crawl into the abyss of despair because I just don't have the motivation, or desire to do anything. It takes me a few days to come out of it, but I always do. I’m aware that these moments happen when things stop and/or slow down. Christmas break. Spring break. It’s like a monster in hiding, waiting to attack me when I least expect it. It's paralyzing.

For those of you that are concerned about me, worry about me, know that I AM fighting through it. I'm a stubborn ass Portagee girl, so giving up is NOT in my DNA!! Those who know me, know this. 

I have an amazing, and loving group of people who do their damn best to be there and support me. I appreciate every single one of them, every single one of you. I know at times I distance myself, because lets get real, it's hard to be the “Debbie Downer” of the group so I try and avoid being that black cloud. It's also something that is really hard to share with others. It's not something you can relate to unless you've experienced it. Even then, everyone's experience is so different and everyone grieves in their own way. Again, there is no RIGHT OR WRONG way to do this. It is really frustrating when people expect me to be at a certain point in my grieving and I am not. Yes, I focus on the loss, but I also focus on the happy!! It only has been a year and I'm still working through it all.  

I'm managing and working through a lot of new realizations. One of these new found realities has been finding out who I can count on and who I cannot. A major tragic event can bring out people’s truest colors. There were some people that I really thought would be there. To be truly honest, some of those people I really wanted/needed to be there and they weren’t. That was a hard pill to swallow. Then there were people who I didn’t expect to be there, and have been there every step of the way. Then, I had some people that I hadn’t even heard from in a long time, and even strangers, pop up, and surprisingly enough, have been such a huge support. All-in-all, I truly know who I can count on more than ever. 

Life is continuing on, and I’m learning how to cope with life without her. But, the thing is, I AM COPING! I may not be coping in the way some people think I should be, but that’s not for anyone to dictate. I am trying to figure this all out as I go. My major focus is trying to get back to feeling happy. Everything feels so unstable, and I'm unsure about what the future holds, but I am moving forward, back to feeling happy and normal. I’m definitely not the same person I was, I never will be. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing. 

I came across this quote on Pinterest the other day and it really resonated with me. I will end with it, because it just is too perfect not to.  

(If you read this ridiculously long blog, I thank you. It was a long one, but it felt good to write. Thank you all again for your love and support!)

“And once the storm is over you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won’t be the same person who walked in”