Monday, January 25, 2010

Circle of Life

If the title of this post evoked memories of the Lion King, with baby Simba being raised above his village of animals, in front of a background of vibrant orange (Disney) African sky, with Elton John chanting those lyrics we've all come to know and love... then bingo.

That is precisely what I was going for.

I have been wanting to post for weeks, but really am at a loss of words (insert your own joke here) for what to say. I thought keeping up the blog would be easy; a way to let people know how we're doing, what we're doing, how we're coping, etc. But that's really quite boring because it is the same thing every day: some days are amazing, some are unbearable, but the good far outweighs the bad.

Since losing my mother, there have been 3, maybe 4 occasions during which I was sure I wouldn't survive getting off the floor. Not without a paper bag at least. This is when I owe an especially impressive amount of gratitude to my boyfriend, Matthew, who is often the one to peel me off said floor. But lately, I've been able to do it myself. My last "episode" you might call it, was during a time when I so desperately needed to hear my mother validate me, assure me, that I have made the right choices. It's never about anything in particular, but just during a juncture when you know you can go one of many ways, you make a choice, and you need to know Mom supports you. In the midst of sobbing through a roll of toilet paper, I stopped. If she were alive, there was nothing she could tell me that I didn't already know. She had spent the last 28 years helping me through times just like this. Although it would have been good to hear it out of her mouth right then, I already knew what she would have said to me, and I picked myself up. I have the confidence, strength, and sense of self, that she'd been nurturing all along, it is just up to me now to muster it up when I need it most, rather than dial her number.

Since then things have been a bit easier. I take comfort in knowing she raised me, and when I feel I need her, all I have to do is look within.

My energies are otherwise focused on being back at work, rebuilding my home, slowly unpacking boxes from her house, and finding new nooks for her favorite things.

I think of my loss, and thank the fortune on which it came to me. We lost our mother, sure, but with time to love her, thank her, and say goodbye. Not in the face of catastrophe or natural disaster. What the country of Haiti and its people is experiencing is unimaginable. I am one of thousands of nurses who have volunteered to aid in the relief effort, but in the meantime am left here to feel helpless and hopeless. I think of how I would feel if that was how I lost my mother, and am grateful.

In the face of suffering, I learn the most precious news of all: two of my dearest friends are expecting their first child. Tears of helplessness and longing turn to those of hope and joy. With loss of life comes gift of life. Thank you Elton John, for the Circle of Life.

To read more about my efforts abroad, go to Children's Hospital Boston for Haiti through Partners in Health. PIH is a phenomenal Boston-based organization that has been in Haiti for over 20 years, and is sending health care providers and supplies to Haiti as quickly as possible. They were there first, and won't leave. If you haven't already donated, please consider doing so.

8 comments:

Elizabeth said...

You got it -- you get it! You DO know what she would say, it's inside you, she won't stop speaking to you, ever. It's true for me, at age 61, and it will always be true -- my mother is in me. It's a gift she gave to you both and it will keep on giving because -- may I say it again? -- you get it. Loads of love to both of you. E

trix said...

"you reap what you sow" and that's not always a bad thing! :)

Talbot said...

“Binoo, Monica has updated your blog! Shall we read it?”

“Merveilleux! But Maman, lets finish our card game first…it’s your go. ”

“Would you like tea?”

“Maman, just play your cards.”

“I have some wonderful cookies.”

“Maman. Just finish the game.”

Erica said...

Monica, you have such a strong sense of who your mother was and her love for you and it's inspiring to hear how you're using those things to get you through everything you're experiencing. It's also wonderful how you've found hope in the special life events happening around you. Thanks for sharing. Thinking about you all the time. Love, Erica

Unknown said...

Monica, I am so proud of you!

You are progressing through the stages of grief, learning how fortunate you are in the midst of grief, and still giving to others.

I absolutely agree with E! You know exactly what your mother would say because you were listening.

Please thank Matthew for taking such good care of you. He is a definite keeper!

Love to you, Gwennie, and Matthew.

Lissa

Joy Banach said...

How beautiful to see that first shot of her holding you -- she said to me a few years back that she needed to have surgery on her shoulder. I asked her how did the injury occur -- her answer: because when I had my kids, I held them, and held them, and never let them down! What an answer and what a beautiful picture of her holding onto you kids. Love, Joy

Joy Banach said...

Happy Valentine's Day/President's Day in Heaven. Be my Valentine and give a big hello to George Washington for me --- Love, Joy

Joy Banach said...

Hi there! Thought you would be interested to know that I will be teaching Mountains Beyond Mountains, by Kidder on Dr. Paul Farmer (who founded Partners in Health to provide health care in Haiti). Interesting book from many perspectives. Coincidence? I think not!

Happy Easter in Heaven Liz.

Love, Joy