Mom?

Today marks 8 years since my mother died. Over the last four months I’ve loved her, missed her, hated her, loved her some more, and just wished I could talk with her. I’m glad she no longer suffers and I’m glad that she didn’t have to see me go through the things I’ve gone through the last couple of years. She would have been livid if she knew all the stuff her ex-son-in-law put her daughter through. I don’t think it’s possible to never need your mom again. I’ve wanted to ask her so many questions. I’ve written her a letter that she’ll never be able to see.

There are so many things I would talk to her about right now. With my eldest getting married in a few days, I’d start with apologizing for how I behaved when she was planning my wedding without my help. That would be where I start. But, if we had time to sit down over a cup of tea I think I’d go back to where things really went wrong. I’d ask her why she disappeared when I needed her the most. I’d ask her to explain what was going through her mind when her husband decided I shouldn’t keep my baby. I’d ask her how she could have possibly allowed me to let someone kill her first grandchild. I’d ask her where she went, after telling me that she’d help me anyway she could. I’d ask her why she wasn’t strong enough to stick up for me. I’d ask her why she put up with my dad. I’d ask her a lot of things.

I’ve forgiven her for most, if not all of it, but I still wonder why. I know my father was a difficult person to live with and one that you just never argued with. I don’t know what went on behind in private. I do know that I learned that I was to be subservient to my husband from him. And at the same time I never once doubted that both of my parents loved me.

It’s interesting, when I look back on it. My mother tried to tell me to love myself, but she was late on that. My father? He still lives and I’ve mostly forgiven him for many things yet I still want to know why. Why did he make me choose death? I’d like to understand what possessed him to think that it would be better. I know my mother knew, there’s no way that she couldn’t. I know she knew because she had already given birth to three babies. She knew what I was going to have to deal with. She insisted I get help, help I never got until this year.  My father, though? Did he not realize that forcing me to go through that would end up with me hating myself for the next 30 years? Did he realize that for all but the last three months that I truly believed that I was a murderer? How could a father choose to put his child through that?

Then, there’s the other side… If I talk to him will that open new wounds? Did he understand the implications and just think that he needed to make it happen anyways? Was he trying to protect me in his own way? There’s forgiveness there for him. Still part of me wants to know why. Why did you let your baby girl out of your sight? Where were you? Why didn’t you protect me? So many questions. No answers.

Questions I don’t really want answers to, not yet. Someday? Maybe. Maybe I’ll sit and talk with him on it one day. I haven’t yet, but I might. What would you do?

Thanks for reading,

me

 

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I’m In!!!

I did it!  I truly wasn’t sure if I could, but I did.  I really did make it in.  I have been accepted into the Pharm D program. (Pharm D is the program all pharmacists must go through in order to work.)  I did have to reapply.  I had to work my tail off just to get the interview.  I’m a mom, I know that some things in life are worth working hard for and some things are hardly worth a minute of time.  My kids, their education, their morals; those are things worth the effort required.  The floor being swept, the dishes clean; those are things that are nice but not necessary.  

About two months ago I had to make a decision on whether being in the professional Pharm D program was worth the effort or not. Was it something I wanted badly enough?  Was it something that in the end was worth the work, the hours, and the money, to do?  I decided to do some more research.  I went to the head of the department of Masters of Pharmaceutical Sciences, of which I was a student.  He and I spoke for a long time.  We hashed out what I really wanted to do and why.  I defined my fire for science and decided I wanted this program more than anything else.  I now had the most important thing needed for success, I had a why.  I needed more experience.  I’m thinking, “here I am, a student, a mother, a wife, a friend, and a daughter… how am I going to get more experience? When do I have time to do that?”  I spoke with more instructors at the school and in the pharmacy departments.  I went to a doctor’s office and shadowed a pharmacist.  I went to a pharmacy and shadowed the folks working there.  I asked questions, I read articles, I prepared.  Then I resubmitted my application.  Nothing.  I heard nothing for days.  Two weeks went by.  This was taking too long, every other week they were conducting interviews to fill the program.  Every week there were less spots available for me.  I was running out of time.  I went to the admissions office, I asked about my application.  They didn’t have everything they needed.  I called Pharm Cas, the company through which everyone is required to apply.  I called the PCAT test center, PCAT is the test required for entrance into pharmacy school, my scores had to be resent.  I emailed my scores directly to admissions.  I needed another reference, two of mine hadn’t been turned in.  I asked one of my instructors if he would write me a letter of recommendation, and I had another instructor willing to do so as well if I needed it.  By now I had met or spoken with practically everyone who would be on the committee to determine if I would be accepted into the Pharm D program.  Still, no news.  I went back to admissions.  While I was waiting, she accepted two more students into the program.  Then she looked at me with a smile and asked me, ” would you rather come in this Friday or next Thursday?”  I had my interview!  I would have never gotten that interview if I hadn’t worked hard for it.  I had to be my own advocate.  No one else was trying to put me into the program.  If I wanted it I was going to have to do it.  

Yesterday, I was accepted.  Yesterday, I proved that hard work and long hours and an “I’m going to make this happen” attitude work.  I left my interview knowing that I had done my best and there was nothing more I could do.  I was wearing a black suit with a light yellow blouse, my hair in a braid.  But that wasn’t what made the difference.  What made the difference, was that I proved to the committee that this was something that I wanted, that I was good for the position and that they could count on me doing my very best.  What I proved to myself was that: despite being turned down, being told that I might not want to do something because it was hard and it just might not be for me.  Despite all of the nay sayers, I proved to myself, that if I want something, I have to go out and get it.  There isn’t a soul on this planet that is going to do it for me.  And if you want something, the same thing applies to you.  If you want something badly enough, you are going to have to do it.  You could just keep on going along in life letting it happen to you.  But not me, I am going to happen to life.  This is my life and no one else’s.  I’m going to make it happen.  Four and a half years from now I’m going to be a Doctor of Pharmacy, my life will look a lot different when I’m done.  My family will be better off for it too.

What did I do when I found out? I ran upstairs and jumped in bed with my kids, tackling and wrestling them.  I wanted to cry, I was so relieved.  Now?  It’s a little scary.  I know getting in is just the first step.  I have a lot of classes I have to pass between now and then. But, I look forward to it.

thanks for reading,

me

What are your dreams?

What makes life great? What is it that you love? Who? Why? I believe I may be a bit reminiscent tonight. What do you want? I mean what do you REALLY want? If money was no object, family pressures was no object, time was no object? What would you do? What if you were free from all the constraints that you’ve put on yourself? Free from your religion, free from it all? What ONE thing would you want to do with your life? It’s like the genie in the bottle, only you get just the one wish. Think carefully. It’s just the one, nothing more. What’s the first thing you think of? Don’t hide it, just acknowledge it and keep it in your mind. What is it you wish for more than anything in the world?

We’re all human. We all have dreams, we all have needs. You know what I want? I want to live, I want to fly, I want to dream… I want my kids to grow and be healthy, to have amazing lives. I want to climb mountains and go down in caves. I want go deep sea fishing, or just sail to no where. I want to live in Hawaii, actually not really. I want to visit the beach at the crack of dawn and search for shells. I want to stand on the edge of a mountain top and feel the wind blow through my clothes. I want to be smothered by kisses from my four year old. I think I want to actually finish Moby Dick? But I’m not sure its worth it. If it is please let me know. What do you want?

Do you want someone to hold you tight, to love you and never turn loose? Or someone to pick you up and spin you around and tell you that you are the world to them? Do you want someone to be your confidant? Your cherished friend? Do you want some one to kiss you until you can’t breath? Or More? Its ok. Life is short, and worthless, with out dreams. If you don’t have dreams, make them, take the chance. You might not get there but you won’t get anywhere without the dream first. And when you die you can know that you actually lived.

till we meet again,
w

Reality?

“Reality is everyday. There is no coming back to reality, you’re already there.” Sage advice I received a few weeks ago. Every moment I’m alive I’m real. My thoughts at the moment are real thoughts, my feelings are real, whether I’m alone or on vacation or doing laundry it is reality. I can change what I think or how I act and that can change how I feel. I can see things from a different view-point if I ask or try. I can affect my future by how I perceive reality in my present. It’s my choice.

I’m a bit of a roller coaster when it comes to how I feel and how I act. I must totally drive my husband crazy. Some times it’s very physical where I have so much energy in me that I can’t seem to be still let alone sit down. I can accomplish so much when I feel like that. When I’m on my “high” I have high hopes and high dreams, extreme disappointments. I feel so extremely alive, anything or anyone around me who doesn’t fit with my mood just makes me want to run. I’m able to handle anything and the world looks full of possibilities. If I’m not careful I could easily ruin my life and my family when I’m in one of those moods. My thoughts run wild. The “coming down to reality” is when I realize my mood degrades. My energy disperses and I’m “low”. When I’m low, life is dreary and has no meaning. I can’t stand to do anything. I don’t get to sit around and quit though. I physically want to rest or sleep, sometimes I’m dizzy. Reality is that I have up days and down days and that it’s all ok. I’m grateful that I have more up days than down days and most of my days are some where in the middle. I do look so forward to the high energy days though. They are so much fun.

Reality isn’t actually bad. I have been extremely blessed. I’m mostly healthy, my kids are healthy, my husband has a job. The bills can be paid and there’s no lack of food on our table. We have a house with a roof on top and we have renters in the house we can’t sell. We have no lack of clothes and we can let our kids do things that we didn’t get to do when we were young. Reality is that I’m one of the luckiest women I know. My children love me and respect me and my husband finds me beautiful. I get to be home with the children and to take them to music lessons and dance lessons and to scouts. I could have to work from 8-6 everyday and be so tired and worn out at the end that I’d never get anything done in the house or do anything with the kids. Yes, I am blessed. Blessed beyond measure.

Time flies

How time flies! This year is already more than half over! I remember when everyone was worried about Y2K. Now I have kids born afterward. We used to have an 8-track player and now my kids don’t even know what a record is, let alone an 8-track player. I remember having my first baby at 23 but now I look at 23 year olds and I see babies. My “baby” is now about to get her license. Where did the time go? Now I have four “babies” and all of them are out of diapers now. In fact we haven’t had to buy diapers in quite a while. I never thought I’d miss diapers but well, naaa I guess I don’t. I do miss the babies that didn’t talk back, that didn’t sneak around, that didn’t like boys or girls. I miss not having to worry about where they were or who they’re with. Now, in a blink of an eye, they’re almost grown. I love my children more than the air I breathe, and I don’t know how I’ll be when they have families of their own.

I remember where I was standing and what I was doing when the planes crashed into the twin towers. It’s been almost ten years since then. I was standing in line at Burger King on the way to COOP with my two older kids. (My only two at the time.) When we got there we prayed and then went home. It was terrifying, it was frightening. I was in shock. I think the whole nation was in shock. Good things did come from bad though. The next few years Americans were just Americans. We weren’t black, or white, or American Indian, or African American, or Chinese American or boys, or girls, we were just Americans, proud of our country and of our homes. Things don’t seem quite the same now. The country right now seems more divisive than I remember ever before in my life. Martin Luther King Jr would be turning over in his grave if he were seeing how people are treating each other now. The racially motivated mob that attacked people outside the fair in Wisconsin and the flash mobs in Philadelphia would have made him faint with disgust. Martin Luther King Jr wanted people to be judged by their actions, not by their color. He wanted people to see people as humans; all one race, the human race. Why then do people keep separating us. Aren’t we stronger if we stick together? Don’t you want to be judged by who you are inside instead of by the color of your skin? Don’t you want to be treated with respect? Self respect is where it starts. If you don’t respect yourself, no one else will either.

You know what I can’t remember, not very well anyway? I don’t remember what I did last week, or who I spoke with yesterday. The day to day things just don’t stick sometimes. I’m hoping to make some wonderful memories in the future. Things I can count on to keep the time from flying as fast as it has been. I hope to take the time and remember these important things to come. My babies will be grown someday and when they have babies of their own I plan on telling some really good stories to tell their children. Maybe the the time when C broke her arm racing to the mailbox, or the time she almost shot the neighbor, or the time when P was stuck upside down behind his bed, or how little C talked with his imaginary friend, Fink.  There are so many things I need to remember.  Pay back for their teen years, I’m looking forward to it. 🙂