Monday, April 30, 2007


Who am I? Who are you? We have our titles or course. Daughter, sister, wife, mother, employee... etc. They mean so much and they mean so little. Being a wife (daughter, mom, etc) can mean everything in the world or nothing at all. How is that? How can it change so suddenly. Maybe once you are and then you aren't. Your a wife, then you aren't. If your title is gone, what else leaves?

How do we decide who we are going to be? What defines us? I thought I was someone. Someone who could verbalize every thought, feeling and desire that entered my head. But what I found is that when it really matters, I won't let those thoughts loose. I keep them. Hidden. My mom once told me "You will be okay when someone you love dies because you will talk about it". I thought she was SO right. No. We were so wrong.

I wish. I wish I had been someone different that night. That night that my dad died. It changed me. It changed me forever. It changed every single thing about me. It made me question who I was. What was important. That night... that night I realized I wasn't who I thought I was. I would do things so different. I would have left my husband be there for me like he wanted. I would have refused to be strong. I would have accepted long tear filled hugs from my brothers. I would have been so different.

What I did was deal with things. Which is so odd. That is not me. I am the youngest, not quite a princess but I expect to be taken care of. That night, I took care. What I wish I would have done... Let my husband go with me to the hospital. Cried on him, screamed in his arms. Let go. Yell! Scream! Cry! Anything but what I did.

You can never go back in life. I only hope I am more prepared to be there for someone else or will be who I think I need to be (for myself) next time. No one knows how they are going to react. No one. I think I would feel more... well just feel more had I been different that night.

I can no longer allow thoughts to just flow through my head. My mind needs to be busy at all times. Free time equals pain. If I lay in bed awake, tears will come. They are not healing tears. I don't even believe in such a thing anymore. I have always hated crying myself to sleep, now I fear it. I read a book until I am ready to pass out. My sleep is less and less lately. I am staying up later and later. Sometimes I fear it.

I know things will get better. They have gotten somewhat better. I don't know if they will ever be good. All the things my dad won't be here for... Krystal's high school graduation in a couple of months, Bradley trying out for football, Siobhan in a kindergarten play, Diego out of diapers.

I am a mom, sister, wife and a daughter. I am less of a daughter because I have less of a family to be a daughter too. Change. I never did care for it.

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