Monday, April 20, 2009

Birthdays and Deathdays

What a weekend~ Jennifer, my youngest, had been begging for a slumber party birthday celebration--and I gave in. Ooops! Not enough that I had eight girls in my basement on Friday night--all night--but it was supposed to have been last week, the night before her actual birthday. Unfortunately, she came down ill, so we had to postpone it. With the next few weekends being as full as they are, I had to reschedule for the night before the annual Daddy/Daughter Dance at our elementary school. Ask me how many moms were pleased with me for that? Then again, ask how many DADS were pleased? ;-)

The party was a huge success. They did all the things that eight year olds do, along with Monika, my 9 year old. It was loud, crazy, and since the weather was so perfect, it was also outside for a time. Monika had loaded 120 plastic eggs last week for the party, so we held an egg hunt in the back yard. What a blast! A prize for the winner, and minimal sugar intake, since she filled them with just a few jelly beans and some coins...more coins I kept telling her. A lesson in forethought!

Saturday morning was a hectic few hours too; Feed the party attendees, get them packed & picked up, Monika to softball at 9;00, Jennifer to the soccer field by 9:45, then back to the homestead, picking up one of Monika's friend who spent the day with us, and attended the dance with Jeff, along with a friend of Jen's who never left from the morning and also attended with "Rent-A-Dad". They had a great night, he took them for pizza after the festivities at school and they came home, spent!

Sunday morning wasn't much easier on us; Monika had softball photos at 10:00, Jennifer had soccer pics at 1:00, and then we took a Sunday visit to Jeff's mom's house. Phyllis hasn't been fairing too well as of late. The cancer she was diagnosed with over two years ago has returned following two chemotherapy treatments. It's running rampant in her abdomen, and another attempt at chemo starts as I type this. I believe the end is near, and Jeff is working through some difficult times right now. His dad passed just three years ago this February, and I don't think he'll be taking the imminent loss of his mother all too well. Who could? How do you prepare for these moments in life?

The beauty of watching our children have parties, attend dances, smile with team-mates in group photos is to relive our own childhood. To recall those days when mom would kiss your knee, and any amount of residual bleeding didn't seem so horrifying. When dad would patch your flat bike tire, and you were back on the street pedaling for another 100 miles on that patch. The reality of watching children do all those things that bring you back 30 or so years is that the pain stings with too much hurt when the cards are dealt that remind us all that we are human. That we have life cycles.

The cycle continues, and our legacy will be that our own children will raise theirs from the very moments that we stand in proud awe over them. The first spelling bee championship, the first diorama book report. The first funeral our babies have to attend and from it, learn first hand the only two truths of this life. You are born, and you will die. It is a lesson that we prepare for all of our lives, yet the end drawing near does not ease the hurtful stabs to the heart.

My mother in law is a strong, solid woman. She has taken each step of her illness with an attitude that she would not succumb and stop living while life was here to live. She's always been like that. I've witnessed her, in recent weeks, begin to re-evaluate her own mortality, her own final chapter. She hugs with more pressure, she tells her kids she loves them more often, she listens even more intently when her grandchildren tell her stories of their busy lives. She is facing a reality that, for her son I'm married to, will find it heartbreaking to bear. I guess that's what I'm for, at moments like these. To give him the support, the spirit, and the love that he needs to move forward.

I'll be the mom who holds her daughter's hands and reminds them that Nana will be with us, always. When the tears subside, the laughter will remain. We'll have more sleep-over parties, more dances, more sports games; And she'll be watching over every one. Our task, as mothers, is to hold all of this emotion together-to weep with mild tears and not cause undue stress on our babies, they need to see strength in times like this. Especially when their father can't provide that.

Monika turns 10 in September. We'll have whatever party she wants to have honoring this milestone birthday. And we'll have the spirit of the only grandmother my girls knew smiling down from Heaven. Oh, and Phyllis will laugh ferociously at my trying to keep another eight or so girls from turning my house upside down again.

1 comment:

Ellen aka Ellie said...

Since my mom died when I was 31, and my father lived with cancer for a few years, I don't think it's at all macabre to share with you that I have the best poem for someone (you?) to read at your mother-in-law's funeral. I will begin looking for it, I have no idea where it's stashed, so let's hope I have months and months to find it.

Oh and you're welcome.

From "The Propeller" (gee, and Shannon calls me Prozac)