One of Many

Yesterday was a pretty good day.  Mea and I took Mom to the wig store, and she was able to try the wig she and my sister had looked at on, and bought all the things she needed.  A stand, stuff to wash it with, a cap for while she has hair, and for after she no longer does, and a sleep cap.

Since the lady helped her get it on, she just wore it home.  I snapped a few pictures, and she looks just like herself.  As we were driving home she mentioned her eyebrows and eyelashes.  I suggested getting her eyebrows tattooed on.  She’s going to think about it.

Since she needs to have another round of radiation on her other hip, and won’t be starting chemo until that is finished, I took her to buy hair color for her actual hair.

I was fine yesterday.  All day.

Today, I have been a puddle of tears.  My Mea as sweet as she can be, asked me last week if we were having Valentimes Day dinner at my sister’s house.  She is convinced that this is something we do every year.  We never have.  I joked on Facebook about it, but now we are doing it.  Every holiday needs to be celebrated.  Every single one.

While we were buying Valentines for her class, she asked me where we go for Clover Day (I nearly died from the cute of this) we go to my parents house.  My Mom brines her own corned beef, and makes a big pot of corned beef and cabbage.  And then she makes something else for me to eat, because ew.

This morning, my Mom called me to tell me about their night out (my parents and godparents went to an annual Valentines dance that the local vineyard hosts) and to talk about our up and coming Valentimes Day Dinner at my sister’s house.  While we were talking she told me that she wants to buy something special for each of the girls for their birthday’s this year.  Something with their birthstone, and personalized from their Nana.

It is just not fair.

None of this.

She shouldn’t be planning gifts out like this.  She shouldn’t be worried about crocheting enough baby blankets for great-grandchildren who are not here yet, who are not so much as a glimmer in any boy’s eye.

I shouldn’t be picking out Valentines Day cards at the grocery store bawling because my Mom is going to die and it could be the last card, the last Valentines Day, the last whatever.

It is bullshit.

I am angry, and sad, and I don’t even know what else.

This is what I do know.

Every holiday will be celebrated.  Even Flag Day for crying out loud, if that’s what it takes to build more memories of things that we did all of us together with my Mom.  Every Hallmark created holiday, every anniversary, every everything, as every day we can get together in a group, and love on each other, and do things together that are even slightly normal at this point are golden.

It is one day fewer that I will sit at home with tears in my eyes, being mad, and sad, and feeling sorry for myself, my Mom and my kids.


4 Comments on “One of Many”

  1. KimN says:

    That sucks Kelly, I’m so sorry.

  2. Jen says:

    Aww Kelly. Thanks for the reminder. ((hugs)).

  3. 4evrmama says:

    Your mom is very strong. I admire how she’s taken control by planning everything out ahead of time since she doesn’t have any control otherwise.

    Sort of off topic, in college, we would throw a keg party just because it was the second Tuesday of the month. You don’t have to have an official holiday to celebrate…

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