This morning started out like most: The kids woke up before 6:45 and went downstairs to play quietly (and not wake mom). I woke up at 6:45, looked in their empty room and called downstairs to tell them it was time to come upstairs and get ready for the day. Both called out a resounding “no”. *sigh* Mr Siili chimes in that it is time to get ready and to listen to mom. Tadbit comes upstairs a few minutes later and starts getting ready. When Paxlet comes up, his first words are accusatory and angry that I have moved his white paper. It is always my fault when something goes missing or wrong. Even if I wasn’t anywhere near the place or situation. (This time I had actually cleaned the area in question the night before.) Our words immediately become snappy, heated and not pleasant for first words on a Monday morning. Mr Siili comes and separates us and calms the situation down a bit. Once I’m ready, I head downstairs to help Paxlet look for his white square of paper that is “this big”. I find all sorts of papers and then some, but not the paper he wants, which is actually a ‘package’ with treasures/jewels wrapped in it. I vaguely remember seeing something like that, but have no idea where it ended up. I spend 5-10 minutes helping him look for his paper. No luck. However, other pieces of paper are finding their way back to the floor! Every time I turn around there is more paper crap on the floor that wasn’t there literally 5 minutes ago. Paxlet insists he needs a specific conglomerate of taped paper/plastic on the floor, but he can’t tell me why. Can’t? Won’t? Doesn’t know how? I have no idea at this point. More heated words from Paxlet and I. Tadbit is sitting at the table very quietly coloring. I eventually end up back stairs to get the hairbrush for Tadbit’s rat’s nest. I tell Mr Siili that this must be how I was with my mom at this age. And I start crying because I miss my mom. Both kids come up stairs and hug me. All arguments are forgotten and they are only concerned now. Paxlet asks, ‘why are you crying?’ I tell him I miss my mom and want to talk to her, but I can’t. His eyes are concerned and a bit teary. He knows my mom is dead. Tadbit just keeps saying ‘momma, mom-maaa’ over and over again trying to hold my hand. We hug and calm down. Then finish getting ready for daycare and work and head out the door.
I got a FB message this morning from my ex that a mutual friend of ours from high school committed suicide yesterday. I haven’t spoken to this guy in years, but my heart is still saddened. He was a kind soul and truly wanted to change our world. Depression got the better of him.
My mom once told me*, everyone has a purpose in this life. We may not know what it is, but it’s still there. (Maybe one person’s purpose is to learn to get along better with their mom. Another person’s would be to change the world.) And for those who decide to leave us before their “natural” time, maybe they have completed their purpose of what they are here to do. We won’t ever know, but maybe that is why they had to leave too early.
I find my mom’s words/concept soothing. It doesn’t take away the grief, but it does help me with the loss. In this case though, I’m struggling with his passing. Honestly, I’m not sure why I’m so sad. It isn’t like I’ve seen or talked to him in years (except for a line or two of text on FB). But, he is a past/former/previous life (when I lived in the US) friend. And when it all comes down to the bare minimal, it is just that: The loss, of a friend, too soon.
*I hope I’m doing her explanation/belief justice.
Yesterday, with a sad and heavy heart, we lost our sweet girl, Mansi.
Mansi had been unwell for a while. Last October/November we took her to the vet because she was definitely not herself. She was hiding up in Paxlet’s room, not wanting to eat nor play, her fur looked unkempt and she had been vomiting several times a day. After many vet trips, cortisone pills, antibiotics and finally a trip to a specialist vet we learned that Mansi had Feline Immune-mediated Hemolytic Anemia (IMHA). Basically, her immune system was destroying its own red blood cells. The vet couldn’t find a reason why this was happening because in cats this is usually a secondary illness to something else, such as cancer, FIV (cat AIDS), leukemia, etc. But there wasn’t anything showing in Mansi’s blood, xrays or ultrasounds. Until yesterday.
After a few weeks of Mansi seeming to be mostly like her old self, sleeping ON Mr Siili, wanting to play a bit and eating, Mansi just wasn’t being herself. She stumbled on a very easy jump the night before, she hadn’t been eating her evening snack for the last few days, she was hiding again and then in the morning when Tadbit crawled over to Mansi she only moved a foot away. That’s unheard of for our girl kitty. Generally, as soon as Tadbit comes near, Mansi is in the other room. Or at least up high out of Tadbit’s reach.
Tadbit and I spent the rest of the day at the vet’s office, home for a short time and then back. I should have followed my gut more and woken Paxlet from his nap and then forced Mr Siili to come with us to the vet that last time. I had warned Mr Siili it wasn’t looking good, but we both sort of though that we’d be able to bring Mansi home for the rest of the weekend and go to our regular vet appointment on Monday like scheduled. But when Tadbit and I arrived, the vet said that there was nothing practical we could do to save Mansi. She had felt something in Mansi’ abdomen and an x-ray and ultrasound revealed 2 hard masses. Also, one of her lymph nodes in her next was swollen (even I could feel that). Mansi needed fluids and medications just to keep her going. We would have had to transfer her to another vet office that would be able to take care of her the rest of the weekend and even then there was no guarantee all would be ok. Mansi wouldn’t have come home for the last weekend. So, Tadbit and I sat there with Mansi while they gave her medication to drift off to sleep and never wake up.
The staff at the veterinary clinic were wonderful. I could see they were sad too. They were kind, helpful and caring. (Although, one would think/hope that when you lose a pet you’d get some sort of discount on the final bill.) I was given a couple of hugs, which really did help, even if I don’t generally like hugs from strangers.
I came across a FB post today about Eric Clapton’s son Conor who died when he was 4. (He would have been 30 this year.) There was a 9 minute video about the boy’s life and death and I bawled the entire way through it. Hug your kids and loved ones a little closer.
On a happy note, I found a 5€ bill on the ground last week.
When I was little, mother’s day was about my mom. It was nice. I knew nothing else.
Then when I wanted kids and found myself lacking for several years, mother’s day became a hard pill to swallow. But I still had my mom.
Then my mom died and I got pregnant. That first Mother’s Day, while pregnant, was difficult and bittersweet.
And every year since, Mother’s Day has been bittersweet. Some times more sweet than bitter, but often not more bitter than sweet.
Happy Mother’s Day, Robbin! I think of you often and miss you always. It pains my heart something fierce that you’ll never get to meet my two munchkins. But I know you are near and watching over us. I hope I make you proud.
There were a few thoughts and events that brought about that last post. But mostly I have been a bit sad (ok, sometimes a lot sad) about not seeing my friends much. Poor Mr Siili gets the brunt end of my sadness, venting and tears.
For a while now, I have been pondering how I don’t see my friends very often, especially now that I am back at work, even if only part time. I did think that finally when my guy arrived that I’d maybe see my friends a bit more because then we’d all have kids. That just doesn’t happen.
Then last month when Paxlet had a neuvola appointment, I happened to see two people I know with kids roughly Paxlet’s age. The first lady I saw is a former co-worker (fcw) and her boy is 5 days older than Paxlet. We chatted a bit at work before we both left for maternity leave, emailed a few times after our boys were born and even met up a few times. Then during the summer fcw went to see her family in another country. I told her to call me when she got back, as it would be great to see her and her son again. Last month was the first I heard or saw of her since. (She’s also halfway through her 2nd pregnancy. Can you say twinge of jealousy here?) After fcw went into her appointment, in walks a friend of a friend (foaf) with her daughter who is 5 months younger than Paxlet. Foaf and I were never really close, but we did see each other at our mutual friend’s events and hang out a time or two when we found out we both had a baby. About the same time fcw went away on her trip, foaf left for the eastern part of the country to visit family. Again I said let me know when you get back, it’d be great to see you and your daughter. Guess what? Yup, you’re correct, that was the first I had seen or heard of her since.
Then there’s a friend who I also went to school (college) with here in Finland. She is super fertile (pregnant the first time on her wedding night and the 2nd “only” took 4 months to fall pregnant with) and has had a hard time understanding me and what I was going through and have gone through with infertility. After some heartache and upset-ted-ness on both sides, I thought we had worked things out well enough. However, she hasn’t been talking to me for some time now and I don’t know exactly why, but I do have an idea… Some time ago, (9 months ago?) I told her of a friend who was finally pregnant after trying as long as Mr Siili and I with the help of IVF. I said to her that this friend’s pregnancy was the first time I felt myself truly and completely happy for someone else being pregnant. Yeah, I see how that sounds now… But I think if you’ve suffered with IF at any length, you’ll understand what I meant also.
(Just in case: I really meant that upon hearing of her pregnancy I didn’t feel any pang of jealousy, see the green-eyed monster rear its ugly head or wonder why not me, because I finally had my own baby and she is one of the very few people I know IRL that has struggled as long(er) and hard as me.)
On the flip side, through one of the mom & baby groups I attended, I was set up (with my knowledge and approval) with a Finnish (first time) mom who has become a friend. Her boy is a few months older than Paxlet. During my maternity leave, we hung out semi-regularly. But since heading back to work, there just hasn’t been suitable times for us to get together. I need to rectify that.
One more flip side bit. Of all the mom & baby groups I went to, only one of them was English speaking*. The moms were nice enough and quite international, but their kids were older and wild/unruly/loud. Plus, one of them smacked Paxlet on the face and my momma-bear-ness just won’t forget it. However, there was one Australian lady who has a boy a month or two older than Paxlet. We hit it off quite well and have met up outside the group. In fact, she and her husband (plus kids) have moved into our neighborhood just recently! I hope to see more of her in the future.
If you’re keeping track, that’s -1 on the friend-maintaining scale. I know I shouldn’t count the number of friends I have, but rather the quality of the ones I do have, but when I don’t see much of the ones I do have, it’s sometimes difficult to do.
*I know I could have gotten away with speaking English at other groups, but there wasn’t many foreigners (who didn’t speak English) at those groups and I purposely wanted to work on/keep up with my Finnish language skills.
Christmas is almost here and for most people, me included, it means family time. Mr Siili, Paxlet and I are spending Christmas with his family. And I hope to Skype with my own family in the US sometime during this week. Everyone but my mom, that is. As I’ve mentioned many times before, my mom died suddenly 2,5 years ago of a heart attack. I still miss her a gi-normous amount, but most days I am able to carry on like normal.
However, the other day while driving, I heard Michael Jackson’s They Don’t Care About Us song on the radio and I got weepy. I then heard the song again a week later or so and promptly burst into tears. I’m not exactly sure why this song has affected me so like this, but I do have a couple of thoughts on it. I’ve never really heard or listened to this song before, but I do (did?) like Michael Jackson. And for as long as I can remember, I have liked his song Rockin’ Robin (released 1972 on his first solo album). My parents had the cassette tape, which I would listen to over and over. And Robbin just so happens to be my mom’s name. 🙂
But mainly, Michale Jackson was born the same year as my mom and I remember when he died (2009), I was here at my in-laws and called my mom to talk to her about it. I was shocked that he died and it also brought home how young he was because my mom was the same age. Two years later when my mom died, she was still young and it is still hard to think of her not being here. Especially when this time of the year is about family.