Twenty Years.

Confession:  I originally wrote this 2 weeks ago, I haven't pressed publish until today because I was scared.  I was scared that it was too personal, what would people think?  Then I was reminded today, at my part-time job, of today's date, February 8th.  It's a day that I will never ever forget.  It's a day that changed my life forever and since when do I give an eff what people think?

As I was sitting in the waiting room of my gynecologist's office this morning I realized that it has been 20 years that I have been going there.  This February will be 20 years since I found out that I was pregnant; 20 years, but I remember just like it was yesterday.

The winter of 1993-1994 was endless.  I was working at Little Caesar's Pizza inside of the Warminster K-mart, I rang the new year in with my new-ish boyfriend, Dan, at a New Years party (Dan wasn't much of a partier at the time.  Me?  I was always a partier), it was going to be a fantastic new year, I had just started a new semester at Bucks County Community College; everything was perfect and normal for this 18 year old.

It was so cold, ice storms, snow storms and blizzards made the weather just miserable .  I remember being able to go sledding down the William Tennet High School's hill what seemed like every other day.  I was still a kid, doing kid things and loving every minute of it.

[This is where it gets personal...continue on, but don't say that you weren't warned!]

Then, I had mentioned to Dan that I hadn't gotten my period in a while, but I wasn't "regular" so I had not been freaking out.  (COMPLETE DENIAL.)  He was freaking out though!  We went to a random pharmacy in the area that week and picked up a test.  It wasn't long before we found out the results.  I was sobbing, and unfortunately they weren't the "happy tears" many of my friends experience today; so many thoughts were going through my head, but I was grasping at straws and still not convinced.  Maybe the UTI that I had had faltered the test, (COMPLETE DENIAL.) so I made an appointment with my primary physician where they took blood work.

I received a phone call from the doctor within the next couple of days, which I was lucky to intercept.  Keep in mind that I lived with my parents and siblings, there weren't cell phones, so it was imperative that I be the one to answer this call.  The nurse simply stated that the pregnancy test came back positive and that I should make an appointment with an obstetrician, then she said something about my "bun in the oven" and I didn't hear a word after that.  F&@K!!  All of a sudden I was a adult, making adult decisions.

I had to figure out how to tell everyone and by "everyone", I mean my parents.  I am still here to talk about it, so obviously I survived, but it was THE MOST TERRIFYING experience of my life.  They wanted answers that I couldn't provide.  How are you going to do this?  How is/that going to happen?  Is he going to stay with you?  Screaming ensued.  I was a scared little girl, who was already 8 weeks pregnant with her new-ish boyfriend's child.  I was 18 years old and Dan was 17 years old.  It was the rest of our lives we were planning, there were way more questions then answers and I barely had any answers.

My parents calmed down and when Bryan was born they loved him more than words could express.  It turns out that my new-ish boyfriend stuck around and became a great father; as a teenage mom I had no idea what I was doing, I felt like "mom's" should know more than I did and thought how was I going to teach a kid when I was still learning?

I found out that if you ask for help people will help you.  God has placed some very significant people in my life and on my path.  I am so grateful for EVERYTHING, no matter how great or small.  Everything matters when you're in need.  God saw that I needed great friends and delivered.  It really does take a village.

This September Bryan will be 20 years old and I have been blessed enough to raise this outspoken, opinionated, honest, and one of the most loyal guys that I have ever met.  He is ridiculously confident and funny, and he's easy to talk to.  He's had his share of shenanigans, but he wouldn't be our child if he didn't.

20 years ago, I had a decision to make, I thank God everyday that I made the right one.

MOM

Mother 

[muhth-er]  - noun

1. Someone who will love you unconditionally, till her last breath.

Today is 2 years since my mom passed away.  December 20th is always going to be hard.

I am selfishly missing my mom this year, more than last.  I say selfishly because I am a believer in the afterlife. I believe that my mom's spirit gets to hang out with EVERYONE that she cares about on Earth all of the time, and at the same time if she chooses.  She is finally reunited with her parents, aunts, uncles and best friend from high school who passed away just a few months before her.

In Heaven's perfection I know that there is no more pain, no more stress and all love.  I said selfishly because if we know that there is this place, this plane, this dimension, so close to Earth why wouldn't we want the people who have crossed over to be there?  So close to us that sometimes we can literally feel them, but far enough to live in perfection.

I selfishly want to celebrate Christmas one more time with my mom.  I want to wrap my arms around her and tell her how much I love her.  I want to say bye; then I reflect (as I do - A LOT) that my wants don't matter, God knew what he was doing.  He knew that I didn't have to say bye because she is here, she is celebrating and she knows that I love her.

There is this "new normal" way of doing things; without her they seem weird and a little awkward perhaps, we're still getting used to them. It's going to be OK because it's all part of His plan; time and the love of family and friends, heals all wounds.

My Christmas Angel Forever

Life is Too Short to be Stubborn

Wow, this month is really proving to be a tough one for me, the icing on the cake for 2013.

I have been very open about all of the things that I have been going through this year.  It took me a bit, but it was a definite rocky road that I have traveled, and the saga that continued.  It is what it is and I made it through another year.  Stronger & of course, smarter.

My relationship with my son is good, I have been able to spend more time with Pop, so I am looking at the positive aspects.  

BUT...

Next week it will be 2 years since the sudden death of my mom and for some reason this year is even harder than last year.  

I have almost forgiven myself for the status of our relationship when she passed away.  It was a ridiculous reason for why we weren't speaking; I am stubborn and was trying to prove a point.

Point is, life is to short to be stubborn.

I have been working on forgiving myself and just a couple of days ago I saw a Facebook status from Pope Francis and immediately knew that it was time to put my guilt behind me:

"You can't spend your life in the graveyard of guilt dealing with the corpses of the past.  Know when things are dead, know when to release them and bury them.  If you continue to work with the dry bones of dead issues, you too will begin to decay.  No amount of work will resuscitate a corpse. Sign the death certificate"

It is happenstance that this quote is actually about death and the subject which with I have been dealing, but the words rings so true in so many circumstances and relationships.  I believe that this is a sign that I need to move on and remember the woman she was, the relationship and closeness we had all throughout our lives, not just the last few months.  She is not coming back, she knows how I feel and I hope she knows how much it has eaten at me and my remorse for wasting those last precious months.

Moving on has brought tons of tears everyday so far this month.  My mom brought so much to Christmas; she had so much joy in every aspect: decorating the house, the tree, shopping for gifts and the satisfaction that she received knowing that she got just the right gift for just the right person.  She loved every Christmas special and every carol that was sung.

She is missed.  She is loved & finally I am letting myself mourn her instead of dealing with the guilt that I have been holding on to.

Surviving motherhood (so far!!)

Being a mother is learning about strengths you didn't know you had, and dealing with fears you didn't know existed.  ~Linda Wooten

I know that this is weird to say, but this year is the first year that I have finally felt like a mom.  Weird, yes I realize, considering I've been called that name for years now.

I have always been very close with my son; having him at such a young age, you can't expect otherwise.  When Bryan was young I was the only one of my friends with a child. I had no clue what mothering was supposed to feel like, I didn't discuss feeling or emotion of motherhood on social networks (they hadn't been created yet), I knew I had to do the best for him by using common sense; putting him first and keep him alive seemed logical.

I looked at it as survival I suppose. I worked A LOT and went to college (although it was briefly, I still went). I came home and spent time with Bryan & did it all again the next day. As he got older, I ran around to different events he was involved with, after school activities, etc.; quick dinners and short showers are how we existed. 

When Mother's Day rolled around, I never thought that the holiday was about me, after all, like I said, I never thought of what I was doing as mothering, but surviving, adapting to the ever changing, and often fatiguing days. If I got through another day of fighting to do homework or sitting at the table until his plate was clean it was a win.  EVERYDAY that we got through without killing each other WAS A WIN.  Sounds familiar, huh?!?

It wasn't until this year,  his 18th year that I felt like, HOLY SH*T, THIS MOM STUFF IS FOR THE BIRDS. Yes! I said it.  Some days this how we (moms) feel.  Shitty of me to write it for the world to read, oh well. If you haven't felt that way you're a better person than I.

This year I lived it.  He was causing sleepless nights, not like when he was little, these sleepless nights were not due to feeding schedules, bad dreams or cleaning up vomit (one might call that mothering), but my sleepless nights were now spent thinking: is he going to get in to school?  If he does, where is the money going to come from?  Then it flipped to...he has to find a job?  When the HELL is he going to find a job?  Get off your ass and find a job, please, for the love of God?!?  OK...if I ask him to move out, where would he go?  Is he going to hate me?  Will it sever out relationship?

All those sleepless nights made for VERY TERRIBLE days.  My whole demeanor had changed.  I needed to be a MOTHER and this is the hardest mothering months I had to face in 18 years.  Mainly because most of these things that kept me up at night were out of my hands.  I could only do so much and leave the rest to God.  

I sleep now.  I see my son on a pretty regular basis, my heart is not heavy and my thoughts are more clear, more positive.  This person whom the sun rises and sets on for me; this kid who I love to the moon and back is now surviving by himself (for the most part).

Could motherhood be seeing your better self making decisions, good or bad, surviving in today's world?  I guess we should add that to the VERY LONG definition of the word treasured by so many.

Just the Beginning. Milestone #1, check.

Tomorrow my son graduates from high-school; this is a HUGE milestone for him.  I am excited, he has had a pretty good school experience; learning comes easy to Bryan, so he never really struggled (unless homework or writing were involved, then there were issues.  He's in for a rude awaking in college!!), but usually keep pretty good grades.  He used to play soccer when he was in elementary school although he gave that up in high-school.  He wasn't a joiner through his stint in high-school, but he has tons of friends.  EVERYONE knows Bryan  This may be because he grew up in one school district and switched right before school started in September, 2008 to another, right when high-school was about to begin.

We had the opportunity to make a move into a duplex instead of the complex we had called home for 8 years.  This would save us hundreds of dollars a month and after discussing the move with his father (I always included Dan in anything that involved Bryan's well-being) and he was not only OK with the idea, he encouraged the decision, knowing that it would be a great move for us.  Bryan hated me for it.  I didn't blame him.  I hated me.  I wanted him to have the a place he was able to remember growing up in, a place he could call his "hometown"; I felt like I was taking that away from him.

As it turns out that, the big move 4 miles down the road wasn't SO horrible.  His friends from "the old neighborhood" graduated on Friday.  I still love all of them & am so proud to have had them in my son's life.  The kids that he calls friends from the school he is currently at are also family.  UNCONDITIONAL LOVE is what Bryan has for these people.  You can feel it when you're around them.  It is exuding from their pores.  If I have done nothing else, I have raised a son who is LOYAL.

Tomorrow, while Bryan is reveling in being a high-school graduate, I am feeling a tad bit empty.  My mother would have loved to have been at and see her only grandson graduating.  You couldn't mention Bryan's name without my mom's face beaming.  She was the MOST PROUD of him; needless to say I am missing her beyond belief this week.  I was hoping my dad was going to be able to come out to see him receive his diploma, it would have been my Mom & Dad's 46th anniversary, so I wanted him to be around family and what better way?!?  Pop will be at the hospital receiving his treatment by himself while we are at graduation.  Shitty, really shitty.  I know there is a reason why he was meant to be in the hospital, but it doesn't make me feel any less lonely.  I am, however banking on mom STILL being there, she wouldn't miss it.  She won't have to bitch about how hot it is while fanning herself with the program, but I'll be thinking of her while I am.

Good Luck to my son and ALL this friends.  This is the just the beginning for you, the first of MANY MILESTONES.

You're going to be just like her.

These past 2 weeks have been the hardest I have ever had to face.  On December 20th, my mother passed away suddenly.  On December 20th our lives changed forever.  My mom was the kind of mom that I was always jealous of.  The kind of mom we all would like to be; she was that mom who was blessed enough to be room-mom, who went on class trips, who volunteered at the school and various church function.  She was the mom that everyone knew.  My mom was the type of mom who planned family dinners nightly & who knew all of my friends.  She loved them and we all loved her.

My mother was also my father's care-giver; Pop was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma (MM) in early 2009.  My mom, who took care of my father is now gone.  My father is the strongest man that I know, he will fight this.  He'll fight for all of us.  Pop has always put in extra-hours, working hard is nothing new to him.  I am worried about him, but I know he'll survive because he's the one who taught me how to make a come back.

We had to plan a viewing and a Catholic Funeral Mass over Christmas.  We couldn't work it in before the holiday weekend, so we had these funeral arrangements looming over us for a solid week.  You may as well just have ripped out all of our hearts.

Christmas was hard.  New Years Eve was even harder.  They'll be hard for the rest of my life, I know this.  Nothing can ever prepare you for the hurt of losing a parent suddenly; the thoughts, the things you wished you'd mention, the regrets of the things that you didn't say or do.  There is a broken feeling that is truly unbearable. 

This is where my friends amaze me.  I cannot put into words (although, I'll try) how much they have been there for me. Everyday my friends have checked-in on me.  My friends, some who I've known since grade-school, have been in touch and just have been saying the most touching things and sharing memories that they have of my mom.  I even heard one of my old friends tell my Pop that my mom helped raise all the kids that went to school with us.  I have also had friends who have been through very similar situations contact me to share their experiences to help me understand what to expect and give me the support I needed.  I have never felt so much love in my life.  Every email, every text message, every card, every phone call that I received was like I was warm hug. 

So many people came to pay respect to my mom.  The love that people had for her was over-whelming.  On our way home, when everything was finally over (feeling like a weight had been lifted.  It had been 8 days since her actual death), Bryan says to me, "Mom, you're going to be exactly like her."  Knowing that I am very much like my father I had asked why he thought that.  He explained that I am the type of mom that everyone loves; not just as a mom, but as a friend and as a person...just like her, my mother, Rosemary Burns, (1942-2011).  My father has taught me how to be a hard-working woman while my mother taught me how to be a"mom" (and everything else that goes with THAT title).

Blue Suede Shoes

This weekend at work was pretty busy, after all it is the last weekend to shop before Christmas (& Hanukkah - if you celebrate); however, there is one customer that I cannot get out of my mind.  I don't know his name, but he was tall and handsome.  He had beautiful, intelligent blue eyes; a real gentleman.  You could tell he was a ladies man.  He asked me for help finding blue suede shoes, (not an unusual request, I have been helping a surprising amount of men shop for their significant others in the last couple of weeks) I showed him a pair that were the perfect shade of blue, but they were platforms, but that just wouldn't due.  His wife couldn't wear heels that high anymore.  I asked if they had to be suede; he then explained, as his adult daughter approached, that on his first date with his wife he had ruined her blue suede heels. 

This grandfather stood before me explaining that their romance started with a pair of blue suede shoes and I couldn't help but think of my grandparents.  I miss them all so much, all of my grandparents have passed away, but this gentleman reminded me specifically of my Grandpa Delaney.  He passed away when I was only 13 years old, but what an impression this man made on everyone who crossed his path.  His face was the map of Ireland, his heart was tender and his temper was hot!  He used to take us to the mall and church and on walks at the Watchung Reservation & Briant Park, he even took us to the Summit swim club (he never learned how to swim, but knew that we were like fish).  He smoked a cigar and told us stories in-between bickering with my grand mom.  He loved us all so much.  God called him home at the same age my Pop is now (Wow, that just left a pit in my stomach). 

I wish Bryan could've experienced how I grew up and the great memories that grandparents could bring.  He never did & that makes me a little sad.  My parents are still living, but they are not the greatest at providing great memories, or even coming close to the memories that I had with my grandparents, but in my opinion no one could compare.

I found a beautiful, classy pair of blue suede pumps for this gentleman's bride.  He didn't even look at the price, he didn't care.  He said that they were perfect and asked if they came with a box of tissues.  I have been wondering about this couple and her reaction to her gift.  Little does this white haired gentleman know that it is he who gave me a gift as well; the gift of a warm heart and the realization that the ones that we love, but who have passed, are all around us and it is our jobs to keep their memories alive through stories and tradition.

It's the Holday Season, with the Whoop-de-do...

Today I was in a bit of a nasty mood & needed to snap out of it.  Christmas is right around the corner and my spirits need to be lifted.  I refuse to be a cranky pants during what I consider the best holiday of the year!

This evening I had off from my 2nd job, so I took advantage of my time off, not by running (which is what I intended on doing - it was 68 degrees today!!), but by decorating for Christmas.  My apartment is small, but my tree is pretty ornate; I have been described as having "tree savvy".  I, for one, do not take that description lightly and must live up to it every year!  I have photographed my tree a million times but it never looks as fabulous as it does in person.  My tree is on a rotating tree stand for Pete's sake and that is only the beginning.

While I started my tree decorating, (it cannot be completed in just one day) I listened to classic Christmas tunes and sang my heart out.  I needed this dose of holiday spirit, boy, did I need it!!  'The Attic' (my apartment) is starting to look pretty festive and I am well on my way to wrapping my arms around this season and giving it a great big welcome back hug.

I have so many warm memories of this time of year; my Pop building the perfect fire in the fireplace,  "Sarah, come in here and look at this fire.", I can almost hear the wood crackling.  My great Aunt Mae would spend a week with us every year, she only lived in Northern New Jersey, so we saw her often, that didn't matter, my sister and I would count the days until she arrived.  She was a 4'10" Irish fire-ball, party-girl, Manhattan-drinking storyteller; she was Christmas! 

Let's not forget the 8mm camera with the bright, blinding light that Pop used to video tape us with.  The torture we felt as we woke up the house and hearing "Just five more minutes!!" from my mom & dad.  How could they do that to us?!?  Not realizing then that they had probably just gone to bed.

As crazy as the holidays get, as cranky as I am with my plate over-flowing per usual (spreading myself too thin is a big problem for me these days), I need to remind myself of the good days and that they are happening right now.  We are creating memories everyday for everyone in our lives.

I tend to kill myself making people happy; I have to remember that happiness starts within and is contagious, from hear on in I will be singing Christmas carols and being merry!!

Oh Andy Williams, how I love you this time of year!

Remembering...

September is the month to celebrate.  It always has been since the very day that I was born, then at 19 years old I had more reason to celebrate because I had been blessed with the reason that I wake up everyday, my son Bryan.  He was born just 6 days after my birthday making him the best birthday present ever.
Those 6 days that fall in between our birthdays used to be filled with anticipation for Bryan when he was younger, because he knew that his was so so close.  It was filled with anticipation for me because I love to give my favorite person presents and I never wanted to wait to see his precious little face light up when he finally opens them.

Now, those days that fill the time between our birthdays are filled with thoughts of one day in September, 2001.  In fact, as it nears September, I being to feel my heart get a little bit heavier.  This year marks the 10th anniversary of that horrific event, just 90 miles up the street.  On September 11, 2001, the United States of America was attacked by terrorists in New York City, Pennsylvania and Washington DC.  On that day lives were changed forever.

On September 11, 2001, I was a young mom, in my mid-twenties, divorced a couple of years, working in retail as a department manager.  Most of my friends still had not had an children, but everything that I did was for mine or with him in mind.  When a managers meeting was just getting ready to start and our Human Resources manager came running in to tell us that a plane hit the World Trade Center, I couldn't fully comprehend UNTIL we all went into the break room and watched on the TV what the news would end up repeating over-and-over and what every American will never be able to erase from their brains.  I remember my heart feeling like it was physically breaking, the heaviness in my chest (the same heaviness that I get every September now) was making me weak in the knees; the sadness was over-whelming, but I didn't cry.  I watched.  I watched and was scared, boy, was I scared.  Was I that naive that I thought that this would or could never happen to us?!?  I needed to find out how Bryan was; I called this school.  He was in second grade and was about to turn 7 that year.  The administration had told me that they announced what had happened, but wanted to keep things as normal as possible, but I was allowed to pick him up if I wanted to.  I opted not to, but I had to think about how I was going to handle this once I had picked him up from after-school care.  I was so young and didn't exactly have any answers myself.

I asked Bryan the other night, 'What do you remember about 9/11?'.  He went on to tell me exactly where he was sitting and what was being taught, but then he said, I remember not really caring when I heard.  A very honest answer and in reality, I am sure that he didn't, then he saw the TV footage and had a million questions just like the rest of us.
I am always very real with Bryan, so I didn't sugar coat.  I wasn't going to hide that there are bad people out there, I wasn't going to say that this wasn't going to happen again, but I was going to make sure that Bryan knew that you still had to treat people the way you would want to be treated.  Just because there are absolutely rotten people out there, let's not pretend that there aren't, we have to be bigger, more united and stronger then they are.  There are people who are always going to be jealous; jealous of what Americans have and represent, but if we stand together then we will over-come.
September 12, 2001 there was a thunder & lightning storm.  Bryan woke up screaming.  He thought we were being bombed.  It broke my heart.  The sleeplessness didn't last long, but I'll never forget.

Since then, New York has become one of my favorite places to visit.  It really reminds a person how very small one is in the big scheme of things; something I think everyone need to be reminded once-and-a-while. 
We have gone to Ground Zero, the name that has been given to the site where The Twin Towers once stood.  We have paid our condolences to those lives that were lost and changed forever.  We have mourned the American soldiers lost in battle defending us.  We prayed and still do for the soldiers to come home safely to their families. 

I hope that the family and friends of victims and all those who had to endure the pain of September 11, 2001 have grown from this tragedy and become stronger people.  This year is only the 10th anniversary, you will never be forgotten and are all considered heroes in my eyes.

It's Summatime!!!

You can smell it in the air.  You can feel it in your bones.  You can see the lightning bugs in your yard!!! 

Today, is the first day of summer.  I have always enjoyed the summer, and what is not to love?  Baseball is in full-effect and my son is out of school; with the latter part of that statement comes endless days for him.  Mid-week sleep-overs & bonfires in the back yard are just a couple of the things that I have to look forward to with Bryan.  I never minded.  In fact, I love being asked the question..."Mom, what day is it?"  These perfect days that just ran into each other.

There are so many summer memories.  We all have them!  The memories from way, way back consist of spending days in the pool, ALL day if possible.  Running through the sprinklers, & spending a week with Nanny & Grandpa in Summit, NJ.  No sea shore for us, we were North Jersey bound. There were also those day trips to Dorney Park, Hershey Park & Six Flags.  Around the 4th of July, people would flock to my hometown to go to the local carnival.  They were, & still are one of the very few locations in the area that had fireworks.  People literally took shuttle buses; but we were in walking distance.  Lucky us!!
Then, as we got older we went to carnival after carnival.  Looking back, I think about how gross it was and those carnie perverts.  It didn't stop us (the teenage girls) from flirting to get a free ride.  The New Jersey shore was the spot to be.  We would go anywhere with a beach!!  We made money by baby-sitting or mowing lawns, it didn't matter because we weren't quite old enough to have a "real" job.  We laid out  in the sun ALL day and had our cordless phones next to us, just in case someone called to make plans.
The year that I was pregnant with Bryan was the hottest summer that I can remember.  Continuous days of triple digit temperatures.  I was so uncomfortable and huge (Bryan was born in September).  Summers after that changed...not in a bad way.  I had this itty bitty buddy to bring to the shore and show him everything that the summer had to offer.  He took to the summer like a duck to water.  Jumping in the pool donning his mickey mouse swimmies.  Actually, Bryan is currently down the shore and having a blast. He got his ears pierced on the boardwalk.  When he comes home he'll be making his way to a Katy Perry concert.  He is obsessed and I am not sure it has anything to do with her talent?!?

This also happens to be the summer before Bryan's senior year of high school.  I am hoping that he has a blast this year.  A safe blast, thinking of the consequences of his actions kind of blast, but a blast none-the-less.

Time escapes us faster then we know.  Embrace every perfect summer day that you can & make memories that you'll never want to forget!!

What are your favorite summer memories?  Boys, Flings, Camps?

2 1/2 years old

in Florida, Bryan is 7 years old.

This week Bryan sent me a picture of his new accessory.