*Author’s note: Many of you are new readers to me, and I want to explain my spotty blogging habits which are not the norm. I have maintained a daily personal blog for over five years, and I am usually much better at keeping up and keeping on. However, I’m in the middle of a process that’s been ongoing for almost as long as I’ve been blogging, and when I started WordWebbing, it was intended as strictly business.
Still, I feel I have commitments that I need to honor, and for those who have been faithful here, I also feel I need to explain what’s been going on so you know I’m not slacking off, but trying to eat the Plate of Shit the Universe insists I eat. Therefore, I’m cross-posting an entry I wrote two days before I received a frantic call from my sister.
I’m having one of those emotional meltdown days, and I can only surmise it’s because I’m tired and I forgot to eat. Usually, even though I wear my heart on my sleeve, I have more control than that, but the stress of the last few weeks has finally caught up to me, I think.
The news of my mother’s cancer growing in spite of the chemo was a sore blow. And I don’t feel like I have anywhere to vent. I sure ain’t gonna break in front of her, and I can’t in front of my siblings. As the eldest, it’s been my job since forever to hold it together. I’m not going to vent to the GC, because she’s baking our Muffin, and that’s all she needs to worry about. I’m not going to vent to the knight (although he’ll get it out of me sooner or later, he’s that way) because he’s as empathetic as I am, and he’ll worry and run his ass off trying to fix things. Things that can’t be fixed.
The honest truth of the matter is, I’m going to lose my mother. The one person that knows me better than anyone else on the planet. The only link I have to my history. There is no friend from kindergarten, there is no family member that has been a constant in my life, there are no people with whom I have contact that have know me as long as she has, and there is no one that loves me like my mother does. In spite of everything that life has thrown our way, the fact that we have any kind of relationship at all, much less one so close, is a miracle. She not only gets my sense of humor, she understands the way I think and she is okay with it. She more than gets it – she accepts it, she encourages it. She understands that I’m a cowbird, and she loves me for it.
The Empire is so important because I want her to be proud of me. I need her to be proud of me.
I don’t know why, but it just hit me today. The fact that I’m going to lose her, and it will be sooner rather than later. And I am so not down with that. It’s a pulse that beats in the back of my brain and in my heart every. Single. Second. Of the day. All through the fucking stupid drama of the job, underneath every situation with a guest, Miss S, corporate, Ops, laundry, and all kinds of other pressures and stresses (including Stupid People Who Persist On Poking Me) I hear the clock ticking.
I lost it in the towels, which were good to soak up tears and sobs. I only had ten minutes left on my shift, but the constant barrage of the stress at the desk today ate me up and left little. Right now, I’m so tired and I need to stop burning the midnight oil and being so impatient with myself, what I can do, and what I need to do. I have to remember there’s a bigger picture here, and I have to remember to take better care of myself – the hard parts are coming up.
And I have to be ready.
But even the rock crumbles now and then.