3.03.2008
TRAMBLINGS...
My mother's very intense (very long 6-hour surgery) started twenty five minutes ago. My sisters and I all called each other to say a prayer. THE FINISH PARTY is sending positive, healing thoughts her way as are my girlfriends and family members. And for some reason, though none of you knew the schedule, I got a ton of emails last night and this morning asking about her and telling me that she's in your hearts and minds. Some of you I haven't heard from in months. Isn't that something? Your prayers, positive thoughts, and sincere interest have helped at every step of this maddening journey. I cannot thank you enough.
I am in Los Angeles but I saw her this weekend before the surgery. My sisters and I laughed with her, treated her to a little mini-spa and showered her with kisses. She asked to see my wedding dress so I took it to her hospital room. It got the big thumbs up and a "that's perfect, Chelle." I've postponed the ceremony until September in order to give her some rally time but I also recognize that most things are out of my hands these days and will change as change happens.
We all are learning what we're made of as we face one crisis after another. Some days it takes all I have not to scream and not stop for 24 hours. At least on the outside. Inside I am howling like a beast. Last week, after my second day back at WMC, I felt my chest and throat starting to close up from the pressure, and stress, of being so far away from her. I was in the writer's room when the worst of it hit but I kept looking at another writer in the room who has generously and compassionately shared her own experience. She gave me a smile not knowing that I needed it so bad at that moment. My cell rang soon afterwards. I am notorious for not turning on my phone, leaving it in drawers or letting the battery run out. Not these days. The phone rang and I recognized the number of the hospital. It was a nurse telling me that my mother wanted to speak to me.
They put her on the phone and she started to chit-chat as if nothing was wrong. Small talk in the middle of my work day which would've annoyed me in other times. I kept the conversation going and then she said out of the blue, "Don't feel guilty, baby. You need to be where you are. You need to maintain your life, continue following your dream. I am fine. It makes me stronger to know that you're out in the world doing what's important to you. I know you're with me, I feel it all the time."
How did she know that at just that moment I saw myself on a plane headed back to the Bay Area? How did she know to call me at exactly that moment? How did she fight her way to be clear enough to express all those things in the midst of her pain?
When I saw her this weekend she had absolutely no recollection of the phone call or our conversation.
This is why, for my entire life, I have always believed in the things that can't be explained. Life has never been black or white but various shades of gray. The same can be said for love. How else would she know just what her daughter needed, at the moment she needed it, when it had never been expressed? How did she know that she had to fight her way out of a drug haze to reach out to me? How did you all know, today of all days, that I needed your emails?
I can't explain it and I don't want to. I just want to say thank you.
UPDATE: In response to this blog post I got this wonderful message from a friend. "It does seem like in moments of extremity there is often this very real sense the rules of place and time start to break down and we know and feel things that we shouldn't be able to know or feel."
That's what I was trying to say.
SECOND UPDATE: This one from one of my best girlfriends, a true-life Steel Magnolia who nicknamed my mother Mama T. "You go to breaking down, letting those super-human muscles of yours wain, it's selfish right now. You gotta maintain it, girl. Chin fucking up. Bed made and red lipstick on. If you can't do that for the people around you right now, you gotta at least do it for your mama. You're her daughter; the one she looks to in order to gage the world around her. You fake it til she makes it."
Until next time...
My mother's very intense (very long 6-hour surgery) started twenty five minutes ago. My sisters and I all called each other to say a prayer. THE FINISH PARTY is sending positive, healing thoughts her way as are my girlfriends and family members. And for some reason, though none of you knew the schedule, I got a ton of emails last night and this morning asking about her and telling me that she's in your hearts and minds. Some of you I haven't heard from in months. Isn't that something? Your prayers, positive thoughts, and sincere interest have helped at every step of this maddening journey. I cannot thank you enough.
I am in Los Angeles but I saw her this weekend before the surgery. My sisters and I laughed with her, treated her to a little mini-spa and showered her with kisses. She asked to see my wedding dress so I took it to her hospital room. It got the big thumbs up and a "that's perfect, Chelle." I've postponed the ceremony until September in order to give her some rally time but I also recognize that most things are out of my hands these days and will change as change happens.
We all are learning what we're made of as we face one crisis after another. Some days it takes all I have not to scream and not stop for 24 hours. At least on the outside. Inside I am howling like a beast. Last week, after my second day back at WMC, I felt my chest and throat starting to close up from the pressure, and stress, of being so far away from her. I was in the writer's room when the worst of it hit but I kept looking at another writer in the room who has generously and compassionately shared her own experience. She gave me a smile not knowing that I needed it so bad at that moment. My cell rang soon afterwards. I am notorious for not turning on my phone, leaving it in drawers or letting the battery run out. Not these days. The phone rang and I recognized the number of the hospital. It was a nurse telling me that my mother wanted to speak to me.
They put her on the phone and she started to chit-chat as if nothing was wrong. Small talk in the middle of my work day which would've annoyed me in other times. I kept the conversation going and then she said out of the blue, "Don't feel guilty, baby. You need to be where you are. You need to maintain your life, continue following your dream. I am fine. It makes me stronger to know that you're out in the world doing what's important to you. I know you're with me, I feel it all the time."
How did she know that at just that moment I saw myself on a plane headed back to the Bay Area? How did she know to call me at exactly that moment? How did she fight her way to be clear enough to express all those things in the midst of her pain?
When I saw her this weekend she had absolutely no recollection of the phone call or our conversation.
This is why, for my entire life, I have always believed in the things that can't be explained. Life has never been black or white but various shades of gray. The same can be said for love. How else would she know just what her daughter needed, at the moment she needed it, when it had never been expressed? How did she know that she had to fight her way out of a drug haze to reach out to me? How did you all know, today of all days, that I needed your emails?
I can't explain it and I don't want to. I just want to say thank you.
UPDATE: In response to this blog post I got this wonderful message from a friend. "It does seem like in moments of extremity there is often this very real sense the rules of place and time start to break down and we know and feel things that we shouldn't be able to know or feel."
That's what I was trying to say.
SECOND UPDATE: This one from one of my best girlfriends, a true-life Steel Magnolia who nicknamed my mother Mama T. "You go to breaking down, letting those super-human muscles of yours wain, it's selfish right now. You gotta maintain it, girl. Chin fucking up. Bed made and red lipstick on. If you can't do that for the people around you right now, you gotta at least do it for your mama. You're her daughter; the one she looks to in order to gage the world around her. You fake it til she makes it."
Until next time...
Labels: Family
