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A Tale of Two Mamas
Trying to keep someone IN timeoutArchive for Milestones
Happy New Year!
We’re hoping for a better year than last–or even the last two years. Losing two parents two consecutive years was pretty hard–but at least it can only get better from here on out.
We’ve been terrible about posting lately, but we’d like to proudly add that Emerson is now pooping real turds! I know I must’ve posted a similar post about Graem years ago, but it is a bittersweet moment transitioning from the breastmilk blowouts of a few months ago. We can’t believe this girl is growing up!
Mama and Graem are playing with the Playmobil grocery store, a gift we pre-purchased about three years ago. It couldn’t be a worse toy to have with Emmy just starting to crawl! All the pieces (about 172 of them, I might had) are ingestible, and it takes fine motor skills to put all the little jars and bottles on the shelves. Mama and Mommy can barely do it!
Graem has been battling pink eye for almost two weeks now. We thought we kicked it just before Christmas, and stopped the eye drops (at the doctor’s recommendation of three days!) Then the goop reappeared on Sunday, and we think we may have lost some friends over our contagion. She’s been coughing again, and we begin the seasonal question of, “Is it asthma or is it a cold?” We’ve been doing the nebulizer nightly, since that’s when it’s the worst. The onset of both of these illnesses have brought Grammy back into our bed, much to the dismay of Mama and Santa! But we’re determined to get Grammy back into the bunk beds, or else we’ll have to call Santa to take them back.
Dear Dad
Christmas is nearly over–the family is finally asleep after a long day of unwrapping gifts, eating and playing. Graem got a ton of toys, and best of all, bunk beds. She’s actually sleeping in them right now, which is an achievement for us.
I thought I’d see you again for one more Christmas–it brings tears to my eyes thinking of the anxiety every holiday would bring as I struggled to balance a visit with you with my family. I was hoping you would get to see the kids open their gifts. I especially wanted you to see that Graem is reading–I can almost hear your voice boasting about how I was reading at three, and here Graem is three days shy of four.
I still can’t believe you’re gone; I can still hear your voice from the last phone call I had with you. I knew something was wrong, the way you asked to see me and Dennis, “just your two kids and no one else.” If only I had listened… I would have seen you one last time. I miss you so much, and now am so sorry that I felt you were an inconvenience at times. I cry about you a lot–at work, in the car, in my sleep.
What I miss about you the most is the comfort knowing that you were there. I could always ask you about something, anything. Not that I did–I know I often acted like I already knew it all. But now that you’re gone, I’ll be doing something, wondering what to do next, and automatically think to myself, “I can just ask Dad.” But now I can’t. I often wonder about what things you had left to show me or teach me. Or if there were any recipes I forgot to get from you.
My memories keep bringing me back to February of last year, when we went to Chinatown for Chinese New Year together. Every time I look back at those few photos, I realize how sick and fatigued you were, but how much you wanted to go. It will always mean something to me, spending those few hours with you and Dennis, Shawna and Graem. It was the trip that you showed me which salted fish it was I had to buy–is it called ham gui? I don’t even know the name of it–but I was worried that I would never know how to buy it or find it, and that I would lose those dishes that you used to make for us.
Graem cries for you every now and then, slowly more infrequently. It’s so hard to see her cry about you, because inevitably I start crying too. And then I beat myself up for not being strong for her. But I can’t lie to her, I tell her I miss you too and that I’m sad. Then I tell her that she won’t be sad forever, and that we have to remember you. I am so thankful that she knows who you are, and that we have photos and a movie of you together for her to remember, and to help tell her little sister about you. And I’m glad that you got to meet Emmy–we’ll always remember how you called her Little Buddha. She’s only gotten chunkier since you saw her! And she smiles so much.
I am so thankful for these kids. I really think that without them I would have gone nuts with grief. But they make me keep going, and certainly make me smile when I don’t think I can.
I hope you can see and hear us, wherever you are. I hope you can see how much we all miss you and love you.
Love,
Margot
Not sure what to do with myself
Shawna and Emmy are asleep, Graem is frying her brain on SpongeBob, Dennis is on his computer. I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m in legal limbo, since we can’t get our hands on my dad’s death certificates, plus it’s a holiday anyway.
We already went out for a little walk and grocery shopping. It was nice to get out, it’s getting a little stifling in here. I feel like I haven’t accomplished enough, but every time I try to start organizing something, I can’t really move forward or finish. I can’t really nap, I’ve eaten as much as I can.
So here I am. Every now and then thoughts of my dad pop into my head. I dreamt about him last night, I saw him in his scrubs, smiling and happy, and healthy. I told him I loved him, and that was about it. I feel like he’s here at times, since I’ve been here a number of times when he’s been in the hospital–it’s like he’s just there, but he’s here. So often he’d be resting upstairs, and the rest of us would just be hanging out talking and eating. Waiting for the fleeting moments when he’d have enough energy to hang out with us. Or we would just head to his bedroom to chat.
I can’t believe he’s gone, it’s like a dream. Being around his stuff is like being around him. Trying to organize it, you can start to categorize his life, imagining how he saw himself as a reflection of his belongings. This overabundance of expensive shoes, cameras, tools, art supplies. Seeing his cameras in particular has been emotional. I remember being around my dad and his cameras ever since I was a baby. I’d “play cameras” with him–he just loved to tinker with them all, and he’d let me hold them and play with them along with him.
That’s the thing about all his collections of stuff, none of it is precious or archival. He loved to hold them use them, actually interact with his things. No white gloves for my dad, a collection is of no use if you can’t touch it. That being said, it’s not like he ever really used his tools. He had piles of toolboxes, each of them labeled: “wrenches,” “hot glue,” “rachets,” “solder,” “rivets,” and “special tools.” But then he’d taken them all out, as if to play, and he displayed them all in his garage, in order, to show that he’d collected every one there was out there. Gala would tell us about how he’d sit there, and just look at them, admire them.
I guess if I were at home, I’d be cooking or something. But I really don’t care right now, can’t think of it. I’m not sure what else to do.
My little girls are growing up!
Yesterday was a milestone day for both girls: Emmy outgrew her bucket seat and officially moved into the rear-facing Britax; Grammy got invited to her first big girl playdate, where we stay home; then Grammy finally willingly slept somewhere other than our bed.
It’s hard to believe that the little girl who started off in the NICU and wasn’t gaining enough weight is now in a big-girl carseat. We’re relieved, because carrying that bucket was getting to be a drag! She was quite a bit heavier than Grammy was when she outgrew it–Graem was 3 months old when she exceeded the length limit.
One of Graem’s friends from school invited her over for a playdate on Saturday. And her mom said, why don’t you just drop her off and pick her up at noon? When Shawna told me this I was flabbergasted–you mean we just walk away?
Then to top off the night, Graem decides she wants to sleep in her tent, complete with her Pablo sleeping bag and flower pillow. I put up the tent on a whim, to see if she’d take–which she did. She slept the entire night til around 6 AM. She didn’t even want to snuggle before she went to sleep! The last time this kid slept somewhere other than our bed was when she was just about a year old–we spent about 3 or 4 days of letting her cry it out in the crib. And she’d only stay there until about 2 AM.
These kids are growing up too fast!
