The Worst Blog Post

Just as I think life is picking up and moving along reasonably well, a special event will come along and derail my life.

It’s hard to watch everyone else move forward with their lives and prepare for the big events. I can put on a smile just like everyone else, but behind it I’ll admit to being frustrated that the world is not focussed on the fact that Ben is not here to watch our daughter graduate.  I’ll admit to finding that very annoying.

Reasonable?  Whether it is or it isn’t, it doesn’t matter to me. It hurts.  Badly.  I feel like the kid in school who no one wants to partner with for gym class.  All alone. I’m frustrated.  I’m annoyed.  I’m downright pissed off and I really don’t care if it’s reasonable or not.  I’m angry.

I am going to help Jaime get ready for her grad, and I’m going to take pictures and I hope she has a lovely evening.  And then I’m going to cry for all that should have been and all that never will be.  And I will be angry and I will be resentful and I will be overwhelmingly jealous of everyone I see who has a partner by their side.  And unexplainably I will be the most angry with the friends I love the most, because I am just so jealous that they still get their future with their partner, and Ben and I were supposed to be able to go forward with them.  That’s my dirty little secret … I sometimes feel immense dislike for every single person I know, because their lives move on and mine does not.  There you have it.  I may be the worst person I know.

I will be smiling at grad, for Jaime, but inside I will be screaming and throwing a temper tantrum. I am not over it.  I will never be over it.  I think about Ben almost every minute of every single day.  And sometimes I turn away from people because I want to say things that probably shouldn’t be said.  It’s hard to keep that much annoyance inside.  I’m quite resentful, in fact.

This is a terrible blog post.  The worst.  I’m even frustrated at myself because I’d like nothing more than to purge all these shitty feelings out onto paper, but they won’t even come to me in any type of eloquent form.  All I’ve got is this insane desire to throw things around and kick something.

On another note, did you know there has been some discoveries made with regards to Collecting Duct Carcinoma?  No?  What, you don’t research it every night before you fall asleep?  That’s odd, because I do.  Here’s what is now known since Ben died:

  • Some cases have been associated to kidney damage caused by an overuse of painkillers.  Well gosh, that would have been super nice to have been discovered about 10 years ago before Ben had to start swallowing over the counter painkillers at an alarming rate since his car accident.  I wonder if I can sue all over again and have the other driver charged with murder, since there was a bit of a snowball effect there.  Maybe it’s all that other driver’s fault.
  • apparently there are some links with chromosome mutations.  Great.  It could be a chromosome thing.  That sucks.

Also, I would give my right arm to go back in time so I could try taking Ben to an alternative treatment center somewhere else, or even to get him to try Sunitinib.  That was the last drug that Ben could have tried when the Cisplatin and Gemcitabine failed.  I talked him out of it.  I did.  I didn’t want him to try it because I thought he’d suffer more side effects and that it wouldn’t help.  And now I think I may have stolen his chance from him.

I’m going to go cry now.  Sometimes that’s just all you can do.

worst blog post

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To the Warrior Women

It is possible that I may have been sitting around feeling sorry for myself today.  I was tidying up the office and rehanging some pictures of Ben and just generally feeling ripped off.  When the kids were very young it was always Ben who helped them plan for Mother’s Day.  I clearly remember my very first Mother’s Day when Ben wrote a card to me.  He tried to make his printing look like a child’s (not hard for him … ever see his handwriting?) and signed it from Zak.  Every year after he would arrange for the kids to do something special for me, usually involving money and a trip to the nursery to start picking flowers for the upcoming gardening season.

Ben thought my job as a Mother was the most important job there could be.

So I was sitting around feeling sorry for myself and thinking about my own loss when it occurred to me that my Mom doesn’t have her mom here anymore.  Neither does my Dad.

Late last year when I attended a grief group I came out of it with an understanding that it doesn’t matter how old someone is when they lose their spouse, the pain is just as intense.  My pain was no greater than the woman in her eighties who had lost her spouse of over fifty years.  So it stands to reason that on the eve of this Mother’s Day, my mom and dad must miss their own mothers terribly.  I don’t know if I ever really thought about that before.

Both my Grandmothers were amazing women.  I’m so lucky I got to know them and spend time with them until I was well into adulthood.  When they died they weren’t old, but they weren’t young either.  I guess I thought on some level that it was natural and therefore must be less painful to my parents.  I now know I was wrong.

I am sorry that I don’t have Ben here with me this Mother’s Day, but I am sorrier for my parents that they don’t have their own Mothers with them.  I still have my Mom, thank God.  I cannot imagine a day without my own Mom (you too, Dad), and I doubt it matters how old one is on Mothers Day when they can’t give their own mom a kiss.  It must hurt, and I am grateful that I don’t know that pain myself.

So, on this eve of Mother’s Day 2017 I will put away my own sadness to remember how lucky I am.  I still have my Mom.  Not only do I still have her but I also live close to her and I get to see her and spend time with her whenever I want.  She is an amazing woman.  She is a strong woman.  She is a dependable woman.  She is a devoted Mom. The best.  I should tell her more often.

mom

I am also extremely grateful that I get to be a Mom this Mother’s Day.  That all three of my children are happy and thriving and alive.  That they love me enough to not only change their schedules tomorrow to be around for me, but to want to also take me out alone the next evening for some Saint-Onge Mom and Young Adults Time.  Just us.  Not everyone gets that.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the Moms out there.  To the ones who grieve the loss of their own moms.  To the ones who grieve the loss of those who used to call them Mom.  To all the Women Warriors who fought a battle to hear someone call them Mom.  Happy Mothers Day.  You are all awesome.

Mostly, Happy Mother’s Day to My Mom, Maureen.  A beautiful, kind and loving Mother. The greatest Woman Warrior I know.

mama

How lucky am I?!