Your typical Saturday morning, I walk with my "Saturday morning therapy session walking partner", discuss the world, including the depression of many young people and kids coming and going.
I came home, started my list and had a moment.
In the last 10 days, Addie lost a friend, three weeks before graduation and her favorite fraternity lost a brother. Unnecessary death, car accident. The driver survived. But did he? He will be plagued forever.
I have not been able to shake it. I cannot look at the Go Fund Me page one more time where I see donations of $10, $15 and $20 and how those donations meant everything to the donator and so much more to the family of Johnny. I have thought about those fraternity brothers being ushers and speaking and services and I am crushed. None of this was on the syllabus for the seniors.
And in between all of this, one son left to go out West and follow his dream. My daughter is graduating and moving to Nashville. Both of these are good things. Things I wanted for my kids. And my friend is sick. The fight of her life.
It was after I stopped at Walgreens to pick up some photos and a razor that I had the melt down.
I sat at the red light and watched a young mom load three kids into the car at the McDonalds I would treat my three kids.
I reached down to feel my legs when I realized that I was so old, there was not hair on my legs anymore. Why did I even get a razor? I watched that lady with her kids...looks like they had been playing baseball at Western Park. And I lost it.
It was everything. My sick friend, a young death, I haven't seen one son in a year and half, my other son was gone for seven months, and my daughter was moving 11 hours away...so I will be seeing her less and less.
And what a self-absorbed person I am for crying over this when a mom buried her son yesterday.
And for two hours, I cried. Over nothing but over everything. Why is it, that these cries always happen in the car?
I thought about two mothers, the one who buried her son and the one in the McDonalds parking lot.
There was a time, like yesterday, that I hauled three kids from T-Ball and Baseball. I packed snacks, washed uniforms late at night and set an alarm to wake up and get them in the dryer just so I wouldn't be "that mom". I was always frantic, very seldom sat down and my motto was "fake it till you make it."
And we did. All three kids are fine. They are happy and making their own way. Was I crying because they made it with or without me or because they were as independent as I hoped they would be?
Or was a crying because the loss of hair on my legs really did mean that I was on the downhill slide and I had regrets?
Do I have regrets? Yes. I did not realize I had regrets until I saw that mom in the McDonalds parking lot.
I regretted that I worried about fingerprints when my kids were little, I regretted that I didn't lay down with them when they were little for naps, I cleaned the house. I regretted working so much, not taking more maternity leave, or just simply stopping at 5pm. I regretted all the time I barely looked up at my husband when he came home from work, and I continued working.
I regretted the phone calls I didn't pick up and the ones I didn't make. I regretted the friendships I didn't end sooner and the ones I didn't cultivate. I regretted the Saturdays I cleaned house and didn't spend more time outside. I regretted sweating the small stuff like the night walker got in the car and sat on the pumpkin cake (even though I reminded him) on the way to Boy Scouts. I regretted "Saturday Sheet Day" instead of implementing "let's go do something fun Saturday."
I also regretted leaving my mom because I thought she had more time.
Did I mention May is ALS Awareness Month and I feel like a heel because I haven't done more to raise awareness?
I drove to my next errand stop, the dreaded party store and I watched a younger woman help her mom out of the car and into the nail salon. Just what I needed. I watched this and all I could think of was "my daughter will be in Nashville, and I will have to hobble in their myself with nasty old lady feet."
I picked up the phone to call my daughter, but she was busy. Of course, she had no idea I was rubbing my hairless legs, bawling and she was busy.
I walked into the party store to pick up the third, "one last thing for Addie's grad party" that only I cared about or would even notice. I walked about to the counter and both girls working behind the counter said, in unison, "Love your shirt". I looked down because I could not remember what it said (Jacks, Pickles, Biscuits and Beer) and laughed. They asked me where this place was, and I told them we ate there when I took my daughter to NYC for her graduation present. They were so into it...I ended up showing them pictures of food and where it was and then they said, "what a great memory you all have...our mom never did anything like that with us (the counter ladies were sisters).
I smiled.
I took my seven-dollar purchase that was going to rock the socks off the graduation party (not!) and got in my car.
I sat there and reminded myself that nobody was going to attend my pity party because nobody knew I was having one.
I was just sad a young man died way too young. I was happy he was so loved, and frat brothers were filled with grief. You cannot have grief without love.
I was sad I was not that young mom anymore going to McDonalds in between games. I was happy that my three children were older and happy.
I was proud of my daughter for graduating, get a job and moving to a big city to become a woman. I realized that I influenced her in some way.
I wasn't even sad about my hairless legs anymore. I had enough scars on my legs. I do not have the vision I used to, and I would just cut myself anyway.
I realized that many of the things that I regretted, I could still change. And I would. Like this bawling session. I am an ugly crier.
I pressed my start button and the radio was blared...Broadway station. Julie Andrews. My Favorite Things. Divine Intervention.
We all just need a moment sometimes.
And Kleenex in the glove box.
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