I had lunch with Teresa from Tales from Toddlerdom and Mommyhood this afternoon. Teresa also has an online boutique here, which is worth checking out. Last January, Teresa posted about butterflies and loss and reincarnation and love and I think of that post almost every day.
I am constantly seeing little things that remind me of people I lost. A candy, a coffee, a cologne, a car. Little tiny things that happen every day every where to every one but mean something to me. I like it. It reminds me that even though people are gone from my life, they aren't gone from my heart. Sometimes I see big things that remind me of people I lost. Not big in size, but big in meaning. It helps me make sense of the world.
When I think about it, I almost feel bad because I never cry over losing someone. A few tears, sure, but they are for me, not for the dead person.
That happens to everyone.
It's like crying on tax day.
I cry for me.
I'm such a jerk.
Then again, I've never lost anyone closer than a grandparent and a few close acquaintances. A friend's child who I never got a chance to see. A cracked out co-worker. Who still owes me $5. Dammit.
Teresa lost her mom. A lot of my friends are losing their parents. We are at that tweener age where some of us have moms and dads in their 50s and some of us have moms and dads in their 70s. Lots of my friends are Oops!Babies. I love grownup Oops!Babies. They are usually fun people. Fun people who lose a parent by the time they are in their mid thirties. It's strange to watch because I feel like we are just babies but all this adult stuff happens to us.
I guess it's not really considered tragic if you lose a parent after you grow up. It's not really unexpected. Not really traumatic, provided the person goes quietly. Not really anything but just the way it's supposed to be.
I feel lucky that I still have both parents. I am happy they got to see my kid, got to love him, and got to know him now that he's big enough to love them back.
If I lost one today, I like to think that I am completely okay and at terms with the way my relationship is with them and I like to think that nothing has gone unsaid and that they would pass away quietly, feeling the same.
If I died today, I like to think that my mom and dad would be grateful for my 32 weird years here and they would be confident in the job they did with me. I turned out pretty well. I've had a lot of fun. Been a lot of places. Did a lot of things. More than most people get to have and be and do.
My dad would think I was burning in Hell, but since I don't believe in Hell I don't believe he has anything to worry about so that's his damn problem. My mom would think I was was not burning in Hell so I'm guessing she might take it a little bit better. She would probably shake her head at my dad and think "Jesus, Roy. Pull yourself together.".
I would. I've seen him need to pull himself together. I shook my head and said "Jesus, Dad. Pull yourself together.".
You know what else I'm thinking of? How when we grow up and get to know our parents we realize what jerks our grandparents might have been back in the days when they were just plain old parents, nothing grand about them.
How those things about our parents that just. aren't. right. came from somewhere. Your grandma might have been a stark raving lunatic bitch before you were born, and grandad might have come right back at her with his surly bastard ways and your parents and aunts and uncles got caught smack in the middle of all the madness and did lots of hippiedippy drugs or danced all silly and mashed potatoey to cope and all the drugs and dancing did was smash it into repression and then it all came flooding out when you were born and you got the worst of it. And that's why your parents are so effed and that's why you are the way you are with your issues and such and hopefully your great-great-grandma's oldentimey dysfunction isn't getting passed on to your kiddo as we speak. Type. Read.
Don't eff up your kid just because your family is effed.
Lawdknows I'm trying not to.