Dear Mom,
2,365 days.
2,365 days.
Six years, five months, 21 days.
Nope, still doesn't settle well.
337 weeks
56,760 hours
3,405,600 minutes
204,336,000 seconds.
2,359 days since your funeral,
and I still cry on cue to "You Raise Me Up."
2 seconds into the violin intro,
tears surface, my heart falls.
2,365 days since you left me,
I watch a sad movie,
and for the first time in weeks I cry over you.
2,365 days
and I lose it
because I don't remember you the way I used to.
You're merely a memory
I am ashamed.
2,365 days,
and I still hate cancer for taking you.
2,365 days,
and even though I am proud of the woman I have become,
it kills me to know I am doing this without you.
8,158 days later,
and I am still your little girl
your "babydoll."
Showing posts with label sad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sad. Show all posts
Saturday, October 3, 2015
Friday, August 29, 2014
What DO you say?
Dear Mom,
A post from our dear Mrs. Thul sparked inspiration for this post. Some things that I am about to mention I have already ranted about before, but I figured I would put it all together in one little educational schpeel.
When people go through a tragedy or loss, most of the time, the people around them are at a loss of what to say. They are in their best interest, and all they want is for their hurting friend to feel better. Still, sometimes the wrong words come out. Some people have straight up said to me "I'm sorry your mom died," without even trying to pretty up the words in the slightest. Although that's not as bad as when people don't know, and ask "Hey, how's your Mom doing." That hasn't happened in awhile, thankfully. Sheesh, I don't know what I would do if that happened now.
Anyway, I wanted to make a post to shed a light on what it is like to be that person who is going through great loss, and give a list of do's and don't's when interacting with that person.
1. First and foremost. DO NOT say "stay strong." First off all, who says that I'm strong? Would I really be strong after going through the hardest time in my life? The answer is no. Second of all, who are you to tell me how I should and should not grieve? This is MY time. I will grieve however I need to. I do not need to be strong; I am allowed to break down, cry, or put a smile on my face. Whatever I need to do in that very moment, is my choice. Maybe not a choice per-say, but it's more of my choice than it is your's.
2. It's okay to talk about the person. Tell stories. Remind us of the good things. Sometimes we get stuck on a few memories and thoughts that we forget other memories about them. We want to remember, so please help us do that.
3. Random acts of kindness mean the world. A call, text, a hug. Checking in and showing that you love and care about them will remind us that we are not alone.
4. Let us vent. I know for me, it was hard for me to open up about my grieving. So I was very appreciative of anyone who was willing to listen at the few times I was ready to share how I was feeling. Sometimes it's hard for me to remember that people still care. Sometimes I feel that my grief is irrelevant. So please remind us that you are a friend who will listen.
5. Although we appreciate being reached out to, there's a time and a place. When I'm at Target trying to pick up a few things, the last thing I need is a sympathy speech that's 5 minutes long in the most public place in Hollister. The first couple months after Mom died, I avoided going to the store at all costs. If I was out in public, it was like I had "the girl who's mom died" written across our forehead. So please, help us feel normal. We really don't know what normal is, but please help us get there.
6. Think before you speak. This isn't some sort of contest of who's grief is worse. When you bring up my Mom passing away, don't bring up your cat dying in the same conversation. I mean, come on.
7. Be sensitive to your audience. Although bible verses may help many people through grief, they may be a slap in the face to someone else. Do not assume that I agree with your religious views. I have the right to my own personal opinion. When I'm grieving over my only parent, your attempts to convert me are just aggravating. "She's in a better place now" is hard for someone to understand when her mother was taken away so suddenly. Maybe if she had been sick for months and months these would be easier words to hear, but in my situation, they were nearly hurtful.
Above all, show us love. Show us that life goes on, and that our lives matter. That although things will be different from now on, that there are other things to look forward to. Remind us that your door is open if we need to talk, but remember that you may need to reach out to us personally regardless. It's really hard to ask for help when your life turns upside down. Your feelings constantly feel like a burden. So remind us that we are not a burden. That we are worth being cared for.
This post is 5 years overdue but I hope it reaches people who need it; whether is helps you today or in the future.
I love you Mom. Forever and ever.
Love your babydoll,
Tessy Loo Loo
A post from our dear Mrs. Thul sparked inspiration for this post. Some things that I am about to mention I have already ranted about before, but I figured I would put it all together in one little educational schpeel.
When people go through a tragedy or loss, most of the time, the people around them are at a loss of what to say. They are in their best interest, and all they want is for their hurting friend to feel better. Still, sometimes the wrong words come out. Some people have straight up said to me "I'm sorry your mom died," without even trying to pretty up the words in the slightest. Although that's not as bad as when people don't know, and ask "Hey, how's your Mom doing." That hasn't happened in awhile, thankfully. Sheesh, I don't know what I would do if that happened now.
Anyway, I wanted to make a post to shed a light on what it is like to be that person who is going through great loss, and give a list of do's and don't's when interacting with that person.
1. First and foremost. DO NOT say "stay strong." First off all, who says that I'm strong? Would I really be strong after going through the hardest time in my life? The answer is no. Second of all, who are you to tell me how I should and should not grieve? This is MY time. I will grieve however I need to. I do not need to be strong; I am allowed to break down, cry, or put a smile on my face. Whatever I need to do in that very moment, is my choice. Maybe not a choice per-say, but it's more of my choice than it is your's.
2. It's okay to talk about the person. Tell stories. Remind us of the good things. Sometimes we get stuck on a few memories and thoughts that we forget other memories about them. We want to remember, so please help us do that.
3. Random acts of kindness mean the world. A call, text, a hug. Checking in and showing that you love and care about them will remind us that we are not alone.
4. Let us vent. I know for me, it was hard for me to open up about my grieving. So I was very appreciative of anyone who was willing to listen at the few times I was ready to share how I was feeling. Sometimes it's hard for me to remember that people still care. Sometimes I feel that my grief is irrelevant. So please remind us that you are a friend who will listen.
5. Although we appreciate being reached out to, there's a time and a place. When I'm at Target trying to pick up a few things, the last thing I need is a sympathy speech that's 5 minutes long in the most public place in Hollister. The first couple months after Mom died, I avoided going to the store at all costs. If I was out in public, it was like I had "the girl who's mom died" written across our forehead. So please, help us feel normal. We really don't know what normal is, but please help us get there.
6. Think before you speak. This isn't some sort of contest of who's grief is worse. When you bring up my Mom passing away, don't bring up your cat dying in the same conversation. I mean, come on.
7. Be sensitive to your audience. Although bible verses may help many people through grief, they may be a slap in the face to someone else. Do not assume that I agree with your religious views. I have the right to my own personal opinion. When I'm grieving over my only parent, your attempts to convert me are just aggravating. "She's in a better place now" is hard for someone to understand when her mother was taken away so suddenly. Maybe if she had been sick for months and months these would be easier words to hear, but in my situation, they were nearly hurtful.
Above all, show us love. Show us that life goes on, and that our lives matter. That although things will be different from now on, that there are other things to look forward to. Remind us that your door is open if we need to talk, but remember that you may need to reach out to us personally regardless. It's really hard to ask for help when your life turns upside down. Your feelings constantly feel like a burden. So remind us that we are not a burden. That we are worth being cared for.
This post is 5 years overdue but I hope it reaches people who need it; whether is helps you today or in the future.
I love you Mom. Forever and ever.
Love your babydoll,
Tessy Loo Loo
Friday, April 11, 2014
Five.
Dear Mom,
5 minutes before.
I'm holding your hand, ever so gently. Wanting this moment to last forever, yet wanting you to be rid of this pain. Thinking of good memories while trying to look past your sickly appearance. Knowing well that you deserve to be free, that this is not where you should be. Rubbing your hand, wiping your face. Telling you that I will be okay.
5 minutes after
Tears keep coming. Everything's spinning. Nothing is real. Surrounded by many, yet feeling alone. Shaking.What will I do? It's always been me and her. Her and me. Where will I go? How do I live without her? Sobbing, sobbing. I want to go back. I wish I had been nicer this week. I want to hug her. Feel her. Have her with me and tell me she's not really going. Why did she have to go? Did I do something wrong? This is a dream. This happened to fast, it can't be real. I never thought this could happen. Can't imagine filling the hole that is lost. Please let me wake up from this nightmare.
5 hours later
Finally in bed, drifting to sleep. Laying next to my Laura, who has been a trouper for me. Not knowing what's going to happen next, but knowing that at least, right now, I am safe.
5 days later
Not enough seats in the funeral home, standing room only. Slideshow of memories. Empty urn, our little secret about the ashes not getting there in time. Plenty of tears, and smiles to go around. Friends singing. Really feeling in my heart that you say it best when you say nothing at all. So many people sharing a part of themselves, the part they shared with you. People stare, watching me go up. Shaking. I speak, hardly looking at my notes, because it's hard to narrow down exactly what to say about you. You weren't just the master of sewing, or pedro. You were more than just the permanent stage mom, or parent club member. And believe it or not, you were more than just George Strait's biggest fan. You were you. You were my mom. Words can't describe our relationship, no matter how hard I try. People knew we were each other's everything. Looking around, I see how many people you touched. And it let's me know that they are there for me.
5 weeks later
Wishing you were here for my first prom. Wanting you here to help me get ready. Imagining you sitting on the couch crying, seeing your little girl. I push through it. Spend an entire day leaving behind my world of despair. For a moment, I am happy.
5 months later
Mr. Peters tells us to write an eyewitness story. Something you've experienced that you feel you can share. Looking at me, he says that this doesn't have to get too personal. Challenge accepted. Barely stayed within the 5 page maximum. Writing about that night was nothing less than therapeutic. Turning it in, I feel accomplished. Here is a keepsake of what happened. My last moments with her.
5 years later.
Less than 4 hours until the exact moment I dread every year. Many tears came with writing this post, because it's so baffling how much time has passed. Every year, it's like saying goodbye all over again. 1, 2, 3, 4, now 5. Look how much has changed in 5 years. What would you do if you were here with me now? Would it be the same? It's funny thinking about back then, about every fight we had in the car because we could never hear each other on our deaf sides. How you stole the Freak Friday punishment by not letting me close my door one time when I was bad. Things that seemed so important and aggravating at the time, and now they just seem stupid. And funny.
Not sure how tomorrow will go, or tonight when I check the time in the middle of the night. But I do know, that no matter what day it is, you are always here, watching over me. Loving me, laughing with me, being here. I wish you could share my life with me, meet all my new friends, and be with me as I continue to struggle through college. It's not the same without you, and it's frightening.
But one day, we will reunite, in that Big Musical in the sky. And it will be the best welcoming imaginable. We'll be dancing along the night of day, and head on down to the milky way.
Love your babydoll,
Tessy Loo Loo
5 minutes before.
I'm holding your hand, ever so gently. Wanting this moment to last forever, yet wanting you to be rid of this pain. Thinking of good memories while trying to look past your sickly appearance. Knowing well that you deserve to be free, that this is not where you should be. Rubbing your hand, wiping your face. Telling you that I will be okay.
5 minutes after
Tears keep coming. Everything's spinning. Nothing is real. Surrounded by many, yet feeling alone. Shaking.What will I do? It's always been me and her. Her and me. Where will I go? How do I live without her? Sobbing, sobbing. I want to go back. I wish I had been nicer this week. I want to hug her. Feel her. Have her with me and tell me she's not really going. Why did she have to go? Did I do something wrong? This is a dream. This happened to fast, it can't be real. I never thought this could happen. Can't imagine filling the hole that is lost. Please let me wake up from this nightmare.
5 hours later
Finally in bed, drifting to sleep. Laying next to my Laura, who has been a trouper for me. Not knowing what's going to happen next, but knowing that at least, right now, I am safe.
5 days later
Not enough seats in the funeral home, standing room only. Slideshow of memories. Empty urn, our little secret about the ashes not getting there in time. Plenty of tears, and smiles to go around. Friends singing. Really feeling in my heart that you say it best when you say nothing at all. So many people sharing a part of themselves, the part they shared with you. People stare, watching me go up. Shaking. I speak, hardly looking at my notes, because it's hard to narrow down exactly what to say about you. You weren't just the master of sewing, or pedro. You were more than just the permanent stage mom, or parent club member. And believe it or not, you were more than just George Strait's biggest fan. You were you. You were my mom. Words can't describe our relationship, no matter how hard I try. People knew we were each other's everything. Looking around, I see how many people you touched. And it let's me know that they are there for me.
5 weeks later
Wishing you were here for my first prom. Wanting you here to help me get ready. Imagining you sitting on the couch crying, seeing your little girl. I push through it. Spend an entire day leaving behind my world of despair. For a moment, I am happy.
5 months later
Mr. Peters tells us to write an eyewitness story. Something you've experienced that you feel you can share. Looking at me, he says that this doesn't have to get too personal. Challenge accepted. Barely stayed within the 5 page maximum. Writing about that night was nothing less than therapeutic. Turning it in, I feel accomplished. Here is a keepsake of what happened. My last moments with her.
5 years later.
Less than 4 hours until the exact moment I dread every year. Many tears came with writing this post, because it's so baffling how much time has passed. Every year, it's like saying goodbye all over again. 1, 2, 3, 4, now 5. Look how much has changed in 5 years. What would you do if you were here with me now? Would it be the same? It's funny thinking about back then, about every fight we had in the car because we could never hear each other on our deaf sides. How you stole the Freak Friday punishment by not letting me close my door one time when I was bad. Things that seemed so important and aggravating at the time, and now they just seem stupid. And funny.
Not sure how tomorrow will go, or tonight when I check the time in the middle of the night. But I do know, that no matter what day it is, you are always here, watching over me. Loving me, laughing with me, being here. I wish you could share my life with me, meet all my new friends, and be with me as I continue to struggle through college. It's not the same without you, and it's frightening.
But one day, we will reunite, in that Big Musical in the sky. And it will be the best welcoming imaginable. We'll be dancing along the night of day, and head on down to the milky way.
Love your babydoll,
Tessy Loo Loo
Friday, December 13, 2013
And another angel gets her wings.
Dear Mom,
Tonight, I am heartbroken
for the loss of someone I never met
She was an answer to my prayers
She helped replace earlier grief, with hope
Those dreams have shattered
Tonight, I am angry
at the disease that has already taken my world away
It stole my parent
It now has stolen someone part of me
"Leukemia" has gone too far.
Tonight, I am confused
because this was never supposed to happen
I didn't know she wasn't recovering
I didn't anticipate this kind of pain
Shock doesn't begin to cover it
Tonight, I am numb
because this all too overwhelming
I know I added time to her to her life
I know I have made many impacts
Soon I will see this, but for now I will grieve.
Rest in paradise, my dear bone marrow recipient. I always dreamed of meeting you, with your whole family. I never thought this day would come so soon when I would have to mourn your loss. I cannot imagine what your family is going through so close to the holidays (assuming this happened recently.) I am sorry you were not able to win your battle.
I hope you and my recipient are able to meet in Heaven, mom. Although it hurts that this disease has affected me, and people in general, so much.... I know that she is no longer suffering. If she wasn't able to win her battle, then it was her time to be relieved of the pain she had been going through. I know that. And I am grateful.
I love you, Mom. Today's news has made me miss you more than ever. I wish you were here to comfort me. At one point when I was crying tonight, I blew up into full on sobs; old grief creeping up on me, old feelings returning. I know in either case, there was nothing I could do. Your health was in no way my control. It was up to fate what would happen, and unfortunately it was not and ending anyone expected. I wish I could change it, but I can't.
Love you, Mom. Please help me get through this.
Love your babydoll,
Tessy Loo Loo
Tonight, I am heartbroken
for the loss of someone I never met
She was an answer to my prayers
She helped replace earlier grief, with hope
Those dreams have shattered
Tonight, I am angry
at the disease that has already taken my world away
It stole my parent
It now has stolen someone part of me
"Leukemia" has gone too far.
Tonight, I am confused
because this was never supposed to happen
I didn't know she wasn't recovering
I didn't anticipate this kind of pain
Shock doesn't begin to cover it
Tonight, I am numb
because this all too overwhelming
I know I added time to her to her life
I know I have made many impacts
Soon I will see this, but for now I will grieve.
Rest in paradise, my dear bone marrow recipient. I always dreamed of meeting you, with your whole family. I never thought this day would come so soon when I would have to mourn your loss. I cannot imagine what your family is going through so close to the holidays (assuming this happened recently.) I am sorry you were not able to win your battle.
I hope you and my recipient are able to meet in Heaven, mom. Although it hurts that this disease has affected me, and people in general, so much.... I know that she is no longer suffering. If she wasn't able to win her battle, then it was her time to be relieved of the pain she had been going through. I know that. And I am grateful.
I love you, Mom. Today's news has made me miss you more than ever. I wish you were here to comfort me. At one point when I was crying tonight, I blew up into full on sobs; old grief creeping up on me, old feelings returning. I know in either case, there was nothing I could do. Your health was in no way my control. It was up to fate what would happen, and unfortunately it was not and ending anyone expected. I wish I could change it, but I can't.
Love you, Mom. Please help me get through this.
Love your babydoll,
Tessy Loo Loo
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Haunting senses
Dear Mom,
The smell of chicken pot pie
Stacks of books all over the living room
The Law and Order theme song 2 evenings a week
Scrambled eggs. Haven't had them that tasted like your's since.
The smell of your perfume. Either raspberry or the musty one.
George Strait playing while cleaning the house
Your soft and warm touch.
The sweet wonderful taste of your chocolate cream pie.
The pop and fizz of getting your diet decaf coke
Putting my hand against your's to show how small your's were. And how giant mine are.
Watching your head fly back in one of your explosions of laughter.
The sound of your sewing machine late at night
The smell of fresh baked cookies every Christmas.
Cuddling into your bed in the middle of the night for a very long phase
"Great Job Babydoll!"
All five senses
Filling me with joy, or haunting me with the "used to's"
Late night nostalgia, tucking me in at night
And I pretend you are right here
with me.
Love your baby doll,
Tessy Loo Loo
The smell of chicken pot pie
Stacks of books all over the living room
The Law and Order theme song 2 evenings a week
Scrambled eggs. Haven't had them that tasted like your's since.
The smell of your perfume. Either raspberry or the musty one.
George Strait playing while cleaning the house
Your soft and warm touch.
The sweet wonderful taste of your chocolate cream pie.
The pop and fizz of getting your diet decaf coke
Putting my hand against your's to show how small your's were. And how giant mine are.
Watching your head fly back in one of your explosions of laughter.
The sound of your sewing machine late at night
The smell of fresh baked cookies every Christmas.
Cuddling into your bed in the middle of the night for a very long phase
"Great Job Babydoll!"
All five senses
Filling me with joy, or haunting me with the "used to's"
Late night nostalgia, tucking me in at night
And I pretend you are right here
with me.
Love your baby doll,
Tessy Loo Loo
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Why is a raven like a writing desk? (And other nonsense)
Dear Mom,
You can thank Nathan for the entry title, haha. I decided to keep it because the whole inspiration of this entry came from utter nonsense, which is the essence of this riddle, and Alice. And it's catchy.
Anyway, it has recently come to my knowledge that there are people in this world, and even people that I know, who do not believe in going to the doctor. Not that they're lazy, or can't afford health insurance. People literally do not believe in medicine, and therefore do not go to the doctor. They feel you should heal naturally.
Uhmm.... what?
I am trying to write this in an objective manner, but I do not think I will be able to hide my criticism well. First of all, let's look at the human lifespan. On average, we live MUCH longer than in the past, significantly longer. Well, in developed countries that is. Is this because of natural, or maybe even magical, healing powers? This is by no means because of modern medicine... right?
Don't get me wrong, going to the doctor can be scary. But it is necessary. You can't just go by life thinking that you're fine. Checkups are important to make sure that nothing is going wrong. Not only that, but listening to your body is important. If your body is telling you "hey, my throat hurts" or "hey, I've been throwing up for four days" or "hey my arms just got cut off" I'm pretty sure the best decision is to suck it up and see the doctor....
Sorry for this huge random rant but I just can't wrap my head around this. It hits me personally too. You never went to the doctor. From what I can remember, the only time you went to the doctor since the 90's was the ear doctor. And that was just when you still went, when I was little, and we had appointments together. I always kick myself thinking about that week you were sick. If you had a normal doctor that you saw regularly, part of me thinks that they could have suspected something. They could have seen the sudden weight loss as a weird thing, not a healthy thing. I understand that your case of cancer was hopeless, especially since the level of severity increased within hours. So there's a good chance that having a good doctor, or any doctor, would not have changed anything.
But it still doesn't settle well. It took you being sick for 6 days before you went to urgent care. Sometimes when I let myself think about all the "what ifs" I had wished that you went in sooner.
Point is, I know firsthand that deciding to not go to the doctor is not a grand idea.
But the thing was, I had at least 7 different doctors over the years for every little thing that came up over my life, no matter how minuscule. (Okay, having a tumor in my ear, not so mini.) I wish you could have cared about your own health half as much as you cared about mine.
So for anyone reading this, please be smart and get yourself checked out. Better safe than sorry. And also, side note, don't let your lack of trust in doctors be the reason why you don't want to sign up for Be the Match. Because, you know, there's a difference between not believing in medicine and saving someone's life... right?
Okay, my rant is done. I love you Mom. I don't mean to bash on you. But it's because of you that I understand how important it is the make my health a priority. So now that you're not here to take care of me, I know that I will make sure to take care of myself.
I love you.
Love your babydoll,
Tessy Loo Loo
You can thank Nathan for the entry title, haha. I decided to keep it because the whole inspiration of this entry came from utter nonsense, which is the essence of this riddle, and Alice. And it's catchy.
Anyway, it has recently come to my knowledge that there are people in this world, and even people that I know, who do not believe in going to the doctor. Not that they're lazy, or can't afford health insurance. People literally do not believe in medicine, and therefore do not go to the doctor. They feel you should heal naturally.
Uhmm.... what?
I am trying to write this in an objective manner, but I do not think I will be able to hide my criticism well. First of all, let's look at the human lifespan. On average, we live MUCH longer than in the past, significantly longer. Well, in developed countries that is. Is this because of natural, or maybe even magical, healing powers? This is by no means because of modern medicine... right?
Don't get me wrong, going to the doctor can be scary. But it is necessary. You can't just go by life thinking that you're fine. Checkups are important to make sure that nothing is going wrong. Not only that, but listening to your body is important. If your body is telling you "hey, my throat hurts" or "hey, I've been throwing up for four days" or "hey my arms just got cut off" I'm pretty sure the best decision is to suck it up and see the doctor....
Sorry for this huge random rant but I just can't wrap my head around this. It hits me personally too. You never went to the doctor. From what I can remember, the only time you went to the doctor since the 90's was the ear doctor. And that was just when you still went, when I was little, and we had appointments together. I always kick myself thinking about that week you were sick. If you had a normal doctor that you saw regularly, part of me thinks that they could have suspected something. They could have seen the sudden weight loss as a weird thing, not a healthy thing. I understand that your case of cancer was hopeless, especially since the level of severity increased within hours. So there's a good chance that having a good doctor, or any doctor, would not have changed anything.
But it still doesn't settle well. It took you being sick for 6 days before you went to urgent care. Sometimes when I let myself think about all the "what ifs" I had wished that you went in sooner.
Point is, I know firsthand that deciding to not go to the doctor is not a grand idea.
But the thing was, I had at least 7 different doctors over the years for every little thing that came up over my life, no matter how minuscule. (Okay, having a tumor in my ear, not so mini.) I wish you could have cared about your own health half as much as you cared about mine.
So for anyone reading this, please be smart and get yourself checked out. Better safe than sorry. And also, side note, don't let your lack of trust in doctors be the reason why you don't want to sign up for Be the Match. Because, you know, there's a difference between not believing in medicine and saving someone's life... right?
Okay, my rant is done. I love you Mom. I don't mean to bash on you. But it's because of you that I understand how important it is the make my health a priority. So now that you're not here to take care of me, I know that I will make sure to take care of myself.
I love you.
Love your babydoll,
Tessy Loo Loo
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Eggs, bunnies, & jelly beans.
Dear Mom,
I love the springtime. The sun is finally back out, with occasional rain to keep everything green. I get to spend time with loved ones over break, and believe me, it's always much needed.
But there's always a shadow of sadness around this time of year. Remembering Easter 4 years ago isn't always the most fun. It's all kind of a blur. I had gone to Lou and Mary's, and we didn't get back until like 6am. I remember getting up at 8am because Bub called. Soon after, Tricia, Curtis, Nate (Cruz), and Norma came by the house. Then Dayna, Sara, and a few others I can't remember. Then I went to cousin Mary's for Easter stuff, although no one was really celebrating. Then I don't remember anything until everyone coming to Laura's house that night. And I mean everyone.
It's nice as the years have passed that I can spend a happy day at home, not thinking about all this stuff as much. I mean, it doesn't matter what holiday it is; I always miss you and wish you were there. But at least now I can have fun with the kids and it's a more enjoyable holiday. I am thankful for how far I've come. It's nice not being sad all the time.
Easter with you was always weird but it still brings a smile to my face. I think you made me find easter eggs at my house every year, even our last easter together freshman year. I was mortified, hoping no one saw my 14-year-old self hunting for candy. But I did it anyway, knowing you had gone through all that trouble.
I guess this entry is going to be shorter than I though. I just wanted to let you know that although this time of year doesn't always bring back the fondest memories, I can still be thankful for the time I have at home, and I'm thankful for the good memories that also come to mind.
Love you more than you know.
Love your baby doll,
Tessy Loo Loo
I love the springtime. The sun is finally back out, with occasional rain to keep everything green. I get to spend time with loved ones over break, and believe me, it's always much needed.
But there's always a shadow of sadness around this time of year. Remembering Easter 4 years ago isn't always the most fun. It's all kind of a blur. I had gone to Lou and Mary's, and we didn't get back until like 6am. I remember getting up at 8am because Bub called. Soon after, Tricia, Curtis, Nate (Cruz), and Norma came by the house. Then Dayna, Sara, and a few others I can't remember. Then I went to cousin Mary's for Easter stuff, although no one was really celebrating. Then I don't remember anything until everyone coming to Laura's house that night. And I mean everyone.
It's nice as the years have passed that I can spend a happy day at home, not thinking about all this stuff as much. I mean, it doesn't matter what holiday it is; I always miss you and wish you were there. But at least now I can have fun with the kids and it's a more enjoyable holiday. I am thankful for how far I've come. It's nice not being sad all the time.
Easter with you was always weird but it still brings a smile to my face. I think you made me find easter eggs at my house every year, even our last easter together freshman year. I was mortified, hoping no one saw my 14-year-old self hunting for candy. But I did it anyway, knowing you had gone through all that trouble.
I guess this entry is going to be shorter than I though. I just wanted to let you know that although this time of year doesn't always bring back the fondest memories, I can still be thankful for the time I have at home, and I'm thankful for the good memories that also come to mind.
Love you more than you know.
Love your baby doll,
Tessy Loo Loo
Monday, March 18, 2013
"A New Reason to Mourn on Easter."
Dear Mom,
I have decided to resurface this (digging it out from the prehistoric facebook "notes") after writing this over three years ago for my english composition class. Mary texted me asking me if she could read this out loud at tomorrow night's Relay team captain's meeting. I guess the captains were told to share their stories of why they relay, and she remembered that I wrote this.
I have the original paper somewhere in my room, with my grade (A+, sheesh, it better have been!) and a very eloquent and thoughtful note from Mr. Peters. He told me to cherish my story. Well, hear I am, cherishing it, and sharing it once again.
Note to readers: this is not a light read. Only read if you have time/the courage to read a 5 page paper about the worst night of my life. Grab some tissues.
Tess Kelly
Mr. Peters
AP Composition
9 September, 2009
A New Reason to Mourn on Easter
No one ever expects the worst to happen. For me, having to face the doom of having everything that was ever familiar to me in life, shattered, at only fifteen; well, it was not exactly my cup of tea. Still, my mind often drifts back to that night, in an attempt to remember how things used to be, even if it means going through that pain all over again.
It was early April, and I had just finished up another play. Mom and I were both pretty exhausted, after all the hustle and bustle. Mom woke up that Monday with the stomach flu, a really bad case of it. It got to the point where she couldn’t even walk from her bedroom to the bathroom without getting winded. She threw up constantly, and was living on Sprite Zero. Me being the selfish teenager I was, I didn’t think anything of it, until her best friend Nancy started nagging her to go see a doctor. It wasn’t until that Friday, when her boss screamed at her, that she finally gave in. We went to Pinnacle Urgent Care, but had to come back the next morning.
Mom had driven herself home, while Nancy’s son Danny and I went to the movies. I came back home, and the door was locked, and the light was off. I was so confused and couldn’t find her anywhere. I called Nancy in a panic. I went back outside and saw her; she was in the car, taking a nap. “It’s more comfortable in here,” she had said. I dragged her inside, now seeing that this was a lot more serious than I thought. I fell asleep to her wheezing in the next room.
She couldn’t even dress herself in a timely manner. I had to wake her up, and it took her at least twenty minutes just to change her clothes. She didn’t even remember to tie her shoes, so I had to tie them for her when we were in the waiting room. I was trying so hard to ignore how bad she looked. She couldn’t think straight at all. I was trying to tell her a funny story, and she had barely acknowledged that I had spoken. I was heartbroken.
PUC sent us straight to the ER, where they put her in an uncomfortable bed that she complained about. I couldn’t stand to see her in there, so I stayed outside most of the time. Still in a daze, I went to her friend Janet’s house to take a shower so I could go prom dress shopping with my best friend Jamie. I went into Mom’s room and said I love you, and she said it back.
I got a call about an hour later from her. She told me that they were moving her to Stanford to run some tests, and that she would have to stay there for a little while. With tears in my eyes and a forced cheerful voice, I said okay, and said that I loved her, and she said it back.
I worried about her when I went shopping, but not too much. I told everyone to call me if absolutely anything went wrong. So when no one called in those six hours, I felt at ease. I wasn’t called until around nine o’clock on my way home, from Mary, Nancy’s sister, who had followed the ambulance up to Stanford. I told her that I would just go up to the hospital after Easter brunch the next day, because I was burnt out. I figured it wouldn’t be a big deal since she was going to be there for awhile, and I hated being in hospitals.
Two minutes later, I got a call from my Uncle Jim from Turlock. “Honey, you need to come tonight. Your mom is really sick.” Those weren’t exactly words I could go home to.
By the time I got there, it was nearly eleven, and I was frantic. I had texted by friend Gabe, so scared for the unknown, and he assured me “Everything will be all right. Stanford is a really good hospital, and they’re going to take care of her.”
Having that in mind, I was not ready for the big news that was about to be laid on me.
I finally was allowed to see Mom, but before they let me, Mary warned me of what she would look like, so I wouldn’t be as scared when I came into her room. “She’s on a respirator to help her breathe, and she has tubes with blood coming out of her, and medicine going in.”
I couldn’t stand this, so I broke down. As the tears ran down my face, I tried to keep myself from picturing her as a sick person. How could that be? Just hours ago she was fine. My mom had to be fine. She just had to be.
I sat down in the waiting room, as more people filtered in to be with me. Janet, Mary, and Nancy went in to see Mom and to talk to her doctor. My greatest fears that haunted me on the way to the hospital weren’t going to be all in my head anymore.
Three of them surrounded me, took my hands, and held me. “Should we tell her?” asked Mary. They returned nods with teary eyes.
Mary sighed. “Mom has been diagnosed with Leukemia. She’s bleeding in her stomach, and her brain. She has a very special case, and they’ve been trying everything,” she paused, “but they don’t think she’s going to make it through the night. I’m so sorry sweetie.”
I felt my whole body grow numb. Everything became blurry, as I went into hysterics. Nancy held me close as I screamed uncontrollably “She can’t leave me! It isn’t true!” No matter how many times they said “Of course she won’t leave you. She will always be with you,” I couldn’t stop crying. One minute I thought she was staying in the hospital for a few days, the next she was going to die. How could this happen to me?
Somehow, I was able to drag myself to her hospital room. There were a couple of nurses in there, who looked up and smiled warmly. And there she was. Yellowed skin, tape over her mouth where tubes were hooked up, discolored hair. It was unreal; to see someone so who used to be so full of life, now slowly slipping away and turning into a memory, right before my eyes.
I went by her side, pulled up a chair, and careful stroked her hand. It felt smaller now; puffed up and scaly. I was almost afraid to touch her, but I knew I wanted to cherish these last moments with her.
Soon they kicked everyone out so that they could try their very last option, which was to try one session of chemotherapy. Meanwhile, the doctor called for a family meeting, to explain in detail what was going on. All twelve of us, four relatives, seven “extended family members,” and I squeezed into the conference room, listening to the doctor’s details of mom’s condition. Mom had a special case of Acute Promyelocytic Leukemia. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t keep up with all the blood she was losing, and not even the quadrupled medication doses could save her. There was nothing they could do, except make her last night as comfortable as possible. All I could do was sit there, nod my head, and hold back the tears.
Even when I went back to her room, I kept the tears back. With the beeping monitor, the numbers getting progressively lower by the minute; my random spasm jumps from nerves; people coming in and out to see her; nothing would stop me from being strong for her in her last moments on Earth. This was our last night, and it was going to be perfect.
It broke my heart to see her suffering in that last hour. All the while, I held her hand, adjusted her blankets, kissed her hand, yelled at the nurse whenever blood dripped from the tubes onto her delicate skin. I was so torn apart. I couldn’t stand her leaving me, before I had even turned sixteen, without sharing all the things I wanted her to in my life. I would be without her graduating high school and college, getting married, having children. I couldn’t comprehend the thought of all this. But, the unselfish side of me kept whispering to her softly, “Go on Mom. Go. I’ll be fine. It’s okay. Let yourself go. It’s time.”
I just kept looking back at the screen, expecting for the beeping to rise in high intervals all of a sudden, just in like all those hospital shows. But, before I knew it, the nurse calmly stated “Now, she has passed.”
My world turned upside down. I immediately let go of her hand, and ran to my uncle and sobbed. No one can ever know the pain that I felt, at fifteen years old, at two o’clock in the morning on Easter Sunday, when my mother just died of Leukemia, when she was diagnosed with it just twelve hours before. It created such physical pain to my nerves and heart, and face wait drenched with tears.
An hour later, I was sitting in the completely full waiting room. I said aloud, “You know, I don’t think she could have ever imagined that this many people would have come.” The whole room warmly agreed, reflecting on how modest she had always been. I felt so blessed, to be surrounded by a whopping fifteen loved ones, who I knew were going to take care of me. Even on my darkest day, I somehow knew that everything was going to be okay.
It was then that I went back to say goodbye to her. She looked so beautiful, now without all the tubes. She looked peaceful, and was even smiling slightly. I cried softly as I told her how much she meant to me, that I would be forever grateful to everything she’s ever done to me, and that I wouldn’t let her down. I kissed her hand, said I love you, and let go. I let her go, knowing that someday, I would be reunited with my one true hero, in that big musical in the sky.
Looking back on this, I am so incredibly glad I shared this story. Although this isn't a good memory, it keeps your memory alive. Also, I'm annoyed reading the awkward sentence structure, and mentally adding in details that I had to delete to keep the paper to 5 pages.
To anyone reading this, please call up your parents or caregivers and tell them you love them. It's horrible to think in a mindset like this, but you never know when the people you love will be taken from you. So make your last memory with them a good one.
I love you so much Mom. This goes without saying. But, I will always hold close in my heart what our last words to each other were.
Love your babydoll, Tessy Loo Loo
I have decided to resurface this (digging it out from the prehistoric facebook "notes") after writing this over three years ago for my english composition class. Mary texted me asking me if she could read this out loud at tomorrow night's Relay team captain's meeting. I guess the captains were told to share their stories of why they relay, and she remembered that I wrote this.
I have the original paper somewhere in my room, with my grade (A+, sheesh, it better have been!) and a very eloquent and thoughtful note from Mr. Peters. He told me to cherish my story. Well, hear I am, cherishing it, and sharing it once again.
Note to readers: this is not a light read. Only read if you have time/the courage to read a 5 page paper about the worst night of my life. Grab some tissues.
Tess Kelly
Mr. Peters
AP Composition
9 September, 2009
A New Reason to Mourn on Easter
No one ever expects the worst to happen. For me, having to face the doom of having everything that was ever familiar to me in life, shattered, at only fifteen; well, it was not exactly my cup of tea. Still, my mind often drifts back to that night, in an attempt to remember how things used to be, even if it means going through that pain all over again.
It was early April, and I had just finished up another play. Mom and I were both pretty exhausted, after all the hustle and bustle. Mom woke up that Monday with the stomach flu, a really bad case of it. It got to the point where she couldn’t even walk from her bedroom to the bathroom without getting winded. She threw up constantly, and was living on Sprite Zero. Me being the selfish teenager I was, I didn’t think anything of it, until her best friend Nancy started nagging her to go see a doctor. It wasn’t until that Friday, when her boss screamed at her, that she finally gave in. We went to Pinnacle Urgent Care, but had to come back the next morning.
Mom had driven herself home, while Nancy’s son Danny and I went to the movies. I came back home, and the door was locked, and the light was off. I was so confused and couldn’t find her anywhere. I called Nancy in a panic. I went back outside and saw her; she was in the car, taking a nap. “It’s more comfortable in here,” she had said. I dragged her inside, now seeing that this was a lot more serious than I thought. I fell asleep to her wheezing in the next room.
She couldn’t even dress herself in a timely manner. I had to wake her up, and it took her at least twenty minutes just to change her clothes. She didn’t even remember to tie her shoes, so I had to tie them for her when we were in the waiting room. I was trying so hard to ignore how bad she looked. She couldn’t think straight at all. I was trying to tell her a funny story, and she had barely acknowledged that I had spoken. I was heartbroken.
PUC sent us straight to the ER, where they put her in an uncomfortable bed that she complained about. I couldn’t stand to see her in there, so I stayed outside most of the time. Still in a daze, I went to her friend Janet’s house to take a shower so I could go prom dress shopping with my best friend Jamie. I went into Mom’s room and said I love you, and she said it back.
I got a call about an hour later from her. She told me that they were moving her to Stanford to run some tests, and that she would have to stay there for a little while. With tears in my eyes and a forced cheerful voice, I said okay, and said that I loved her, and she said it back.
I worried about her when I went shopping, but not too much. I told everyone to call me if absolutely anything went wrong. So when no one called in those six hours, I felt at ease. I wasn’t called until around nine o’clock on my way home, from Mary, Nancy’s sister, who had followed the ambulance up to Stanford. I told her that I would just go up to the hospital after Easter brunch the next day, because I was burnt out. I figured it wouldn’t be a big deal since she was going to be there for awhile, and I hated being in hospitals.
Two minutes later, I got a call from my Uncle Jim from Turlock. “Honey, you need to come tonight. Your mom is really sick.” Those weren’t exactly words I could go home to.
By the time I got there, it was nearly eleven, and I was frantic. I had texted by friend Gabe, so scared for the unknown, and he assured me “Everything will be all right. Stanford is a really good hospital, and they’re going to take care of her.”
Having that in mind, I was not ready for the big news that was about to be laid on me.
I finally was allowed to see Mom, but before they let me, Mary warned me of what she would look like, so I wouldn’t be as scared when I came into her room. “She’s on a respirator to help her breathe, and she has tubes with blood coming out of her, and medicine going in.”
I couldn’t stand this, so I broke down. As the tears ran down my face, I tried to keep myself from picturing her as a sick person. How could that be? Just hours ago she was fine. My mom had to be fine. She just had to be.
I sat down in the waiting room, as more people filtered in to be with me. Janet, Mary, and Nancy went in to see Mom and to talk to her doctor. My greatest fears that haunted me on the way to the hospital weren’t going to be all in my head anymore.
Three of them surrounded me, took my hands, and held me. “Should we tell her?” asked Mary. They returned nods with teary eyes.
Mary sighed. “Mom has been diagnosed with Leukemia. She’s bleeding in her stomach, and her brain. She has a very special case, and they’ve been trying everything,” she paused, “but they don’t think she’s going to make it through the night. I’m so sorry sweetie.”
I felt my whole body grow numb. Everything became blurry, as I went into hysterics. Nancy held me close as I screamed uncontrollably “She can’t leave me! It isn’t true!” No matter how many times they said “Of course she won’t leave you. She will always be with you,” I couldn’t stop crying. One minute I thought she was staying in the hospital for a few days, the next she was going to die. How could this happen to me?
Somehow, I was able to drag myself to her hospital room. There were a couple of nurses in there, who looked up and smiled warmly. And there she was. Yellowed skin, tape over her mouth where tubes were hooked up, discolored hair. It was unreal; to see someone so who used to be so full of life, now slowly slipping away and turning into a memory, right before my eyes.
I went by her side, pulled up a chair, and careful stroked her hand. It felt smaller now; puffed up and scaly. I was almost afraid to touch her, but I knew I wanted to cherish these last moments with her.
Soon they kicked everyone out so that they could try their very last option, which was to try one session of chemotherapy. Meanwhile, the doctor called for a family meeting, to explain in detail what was going on. All twelve of us, four relatives, seven “extended family members,” and I squeezed into the conference room, listening to the doctor’s details of mom’s condition. Mom had a special case of Acute Promyelocytic Leukemia. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t keep up with all the blood she was losing, and not even the quadrupled medication doses could save her. There was nothing they could do, except make her last night as comfortable as possible. All I could do was sit there, nod my head, and hold back the tears.
Even when I went back to her room, I kept the tears back. With the beeping monitor, the numbers getting progressively lower by the minute; my random spasm jumps from nerves; people coming in and out to see her; nothing would stop me from being strong for her in her last moments on Earth. This was our last night, and it was going to be perfect.
It broke my heart to see her suffering in that last hour. All the while, I held her hand, adjusted her blankets, kissed her hand, yelled at the nurse whenever blood dripped from the tubes onto her delicate skin. I was so torn apart. I couldn’t stand her leaving me, before I had even turned sixteen, without sharing all the things I wanted her to in my life. I would be without her graduating high school and college, getting married, having children. I couldn’t comprehend the thought of all this. But, the unselfish side of me kept whispering to her softly, “Go on Mom. Go. I’ll be fine. It’s okay. Let yourself go. It’s time.”
I just kept looking back at the screen, expecting for the beeping to rise in high intervals all of a sudden, just in like all those hospital shows. But, before I knew it, the nurse calmly stated “Now, she has passed.”
My world turned upside down. I immediately let go of her hand, and ran to my uncle and sobbed. No one can ever know the pain that I felt, at fifteen years old, at two o’clock in the morning on Easter Sunday, when my mother just died of Leukemia, when she was diagnosed with it just twelve hours before. It created such physical pain to my nerves and heart, and face wait drenched with tears.
An hour later, I was sitting in the completely full waiting room. I said aloud, “You know, I don’t think she could have ever imagined that this many people would have come.” The whole room warmly agreed, reflecting on how modest she had always been. I felt so blessed, to be surrounded by a whopping fifteen loved ones, who I knew were going to take care of me. Even on my darkest day, I somehow knew that everything was going to be okay.
It was then that I went back to say goodbye to her. She looked so beautiful, now without all the tubes. She looked peaceful, and was even smiling slightly. I cried softly as I told her how much she meant to me, that I would be forever grateful to everything she’s ever done to me, and that I wouldn’t let her down. I kissed her hand, said I love you, and let go. I let her go, knowing that someday, I would be reunited with my one true hero, in that big musical in the sky.
Looking back on this, I am so incredibly glad I shared this story. Although this isn't a good memory, it keeps your memory alive. Also, I'm annoyed reading the awkward sentence structure, and mentally adding in details that I had to delete to keep the paper to 5 pages.
To anyone reading this, please call up your parents or caregivers and tell them you love them. It's horrible to think in a mindset like this, but you never know when the people you love will be taken from you. So make your last memory with them a good one.
I love you so much Mom. This goes without saying. But, I will always hold close in my heart what our last words to each other were.
Love your babydoll, Tessy Loo Loo
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Somber morning dreams.
Dear Mom,
When I went back to bed this morning, I had the weirdest dream. A whole bunch of us went to the movies, but I couldn't figure out what was going on. I was being antisocial or something. The movie and Nancy and someone else wanted to see, you had already seen, so we decided to watch 27 Dresses, or was it Valentine's Day? Something that I own, so it really didn't make sense why we would pay money to see one and not the other. Anyway, I went to grab seats in the balcony of that theatre (some fancy movie theatre) and waited there the entire movie, but you and someone else had already grabbed seats on the main level. I was very angry! We got out of our movie and you went home, walking and talking with someone else and I couldn't get your attention.
I waited for the other movie to get out, which I guess actually was a 4 hour disney movie, that kind of reminded me of Epic Mickey, but when the theatre door opened it looked like colors of the wind from Pocahontas. So i had to wait there for another hour before Danny, Ashlyn, Laura, and I don't remember who else, to get out.
I woke up confused. And angry, because I wanted to hang out with you some more. I think you were ignoring me because I shouldn't have been sleeping, if I'm so stresseed about with school and work. As I probably should be working on my project right now, and not writing this.
See, this is why I have grown a hatred for sleeping in. I don't mind as much now, but a few years ago it freaked me out. I didn't want to see you in my going-back-to-sleep-super-weird-over-the-top dreams. I knew if I decided to fall back asleep in the morning, that's when I would dream about you.
Now I cherish those dreams. Seeing you in my sleep is better than not seeing you at all. Even if it's only for a few minutes.
I miss you. <3
Love your babydoll,
Tessy Loo Loo
When I went back to bed this morning, I had the weirdest dream. A whole bunch of us went to the movies, but I couldn't figure out what was going on. I was being antisocial or something. The movie and Nancy and someone else wanted to see, you had already seen, so we decided to watch 27 Dresses, or was it Valentine's Day? Something that I own, so it really didn't make sense why we would pay money to see one and not the other. Anyway, I went to grab seats in the balcony of that theatre (some fancy movie theatre) and waited there the entire movie, but you and someone else had already grabbed seats on the main level. I was very angry! We got out of our movie and you went home, walking and talking with someone else and I couldn't get your attention.
I waited for the other movie to get out, which I guess actually was a 4 hour disney movie, that kind of reminded me of Epic Mickey, but when the theatre door opened it looked like colors of the wind from Pocahontas. So i had to wait there for another hour before Danny, Ashlyn, Laura, and I don't remember who else, to get out.
I woke up confused. And angry, because I wanted to hang out with you some more. I think you were ignoring me because I shouldn't have been sleeping, if I'm so stresseed about with school and work. As I probably should be working on my project right now, and not writing this.
See, this is why I have grown a hatred for sleeping in. I don't mind as much now, but a few years ago it freaked me out. I didn't want to see you in my going-back-to-sleep-super-weird-over-the-top dreams. I knew if I decided to fall back asleep in the morning, that's when I would dream about you.
Now I cherish those dreams. Seeing you in my sleep is better than not seeing you at all. Even if it's only for a few minutes.
I miss you. <3
Love your babydoll,
Tessy Loo Loo
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Raindrops keep falling on my head.
Dear Mom,
So I started writing a poem, but it came out really "boo hoo" and "waaaaa" so I am not posting it until further notice. Basically I've been an emotional wreck lately, and I am taking it day by day to figure out why. It's been a tug of war: trying to get my emotions out in the open, but ticking off my friends in the process. Wanting attention and support, but acting closed off and being passive-aggressive. I'm a hot mess, to say in the least.
I think one of my issues is that I really really rely on other people. I have always been the kind of person who needs other people, in some shape or form. Even if I want to have a night in, I'm always texting people, checking facebook, etc. I look at how I live my life, and in some aspects, I really really live for other people. Sometimes I do things for myself, but a lot of the time I rely on others. And lately it's gotten to the point where I'm not getting the exact same thing in return. Not that I have bad friends, I just have been a smothering, attention-needing monster lately.
I wish I knew how to fix this. I mean look at you, you are one of the most independent ladies ever. (But, at the same time, you had plenty of people in your life who would do anything for you, whether you asked them to or not.)
I just think I hate having loss of control, so I try and control the people I love in order to ensure to myself that everything will be fine, and that things can stay the same. I don't do change. So I think I've just been in this denial stage of holding onto everything as close as possible, instead of living my life to the absolute fullest to create the maximum amount of happiness possible. I need to start living for me, instead of chasing after the changes that are happening around me.
I guess this entry isn't sounding any better than my poem. Point is, I wish things were easier. In some aspects there have been good changes. Officially being a Communicative Disorders major, shadowing Marian and Norma at school, choreographing Spamalot. I am thankful for the kinds of opportunities that I have taken on lately. And you know what? I did all of that for myself.
So that's progress, right? And I do understand that change can be good. But I've been crazy negative and whiny lately. I'm working on it, though.
What would you say if you were here? Honestly, it wouldn't matter what you said, it still would have helped. Even just a hug from you would be nice right about now.
I miss all the times where I wouldn't have to explain something to you. You always knew what was going on, who I liked, if something was up. "What ever happened with so-and-so?" "Wait, how did you know I liked him?" Typical mom mind-reading.
I know this will blow over soon. I just feel like Eeyore, with a rain cloud looming over me, when everyone else is all miss mary sunshine.
Anyway, like always, I miss you like crazy. <3
Love your baby doll,
Tessy Loo Loo
So I started writing a poem, but it came out really "boo hoo" and "waaaaa" so I am not posting it until further notice. Basically I've been an emotional wreck lately, and I am taking it day by day to figure out why. It's been a tug of war: trying to get my emotions out in the open, but ticking off my friends in the process. Wanting attention and support, but acting closed off and being passive-aggressive. I'm a hot mess, to say in the least.
I think one of my issues is that I really really rely on other people. I have always been the kind of person who needs other people, in some shape or form. Even if I want to have a night in, I'm always texting people, checking facebook, etc. I look at how I live my life, and in some aspects, I really really live for other people. Sometimes I do things for myself, but a lot of the time I rely on others. And lately it's gotten to the point where I'm not getting the exact same thing in return. Not that I have bad friends, I just have been a smothering, attention-needing monster lately.
I wish I knew how to fix this. I mean look at you, you are one of the most independent ladies ever. (But, at the same time, you had plenty of people in your life who would do anything for you, whether you asked them to or not.)
I just think I hate having loss of control, so I try and control the people I love in order to ensure to myself that everything will be fine, and that things can stay the same. I don't do change. So I think I've just been in this denial stage of holding onto everything as close as possible, instead of living my life to the absolute fullest to create the maximum amount of happiness possible. I need to start living for me, instead of chasing after the changes that are happening around me.
I guess this entry isn't sounding any better than my poem. Point is, I wish things were easier. In some aspects there have been good changes. Officially being a Communicative Disorders major, shadowing Marian and Norma at school, choreographing Spamalot. I am thankful for the kinds of opportunities that I have taken on lately. And you know what? I did all of that for myself.
So that's progress, right? And I do understand that change can be good. But I've been crazy negative and whiny lately. I'm working on it, though.
What would you say if you were here? Honestly, it wouldn't matter what you said, it still would have helped. Even just a hug from you would be nice right about now.
I miss all the times where I wouldn't have to explain something to you. You always knew what was going on, who I liked, if something was up. "What ever happened with so-and-so?" "Wait, how did you know I liked him?" Typical mom mind-reading.
I know this will blow over soon. I just feel like Eeyore, with a rain cloud looming over me, when everyone else is all miss mary sunshine.
Anyway, like always, I miss you like crazy. <3
Love your baby doll,
Tessy Loo Loo
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Flash. Little Moments.
Dear Mom,
Flash.
Summer before seventh grade. We are at Sally and Sara's (old) house. Sara, Amanda, and I are practicing singing "Angel" for luminaries. I can't even look at you because you have tears rolling, no, RACING, down your face. Tears of joy. Kathy laughs at this, because everyone knew how sentimental you are.
Flash.
Sophomore year. I am asking for family heirlooms for my Mr. Moore project. You're in your room, going through old jewelry, showing me old things of my grandmother. You then find your engagement ring, the gold rose one. I ask if I can have it, taking it away before you give me an answer. If we hadn't had that conversation, a few weeks later, I would not have known how important that piece of metal was, would not have held it close like I do now.
Flash.
Shannon's baby shower for Brody. You laughing at me and Sara while we eat the baby food. Watching you carefully write in her baby book.
Flash.
Every friday night. We were either out to dinner or shopping with Danny and Nancy, or over at Janet's house. Because it's against the rules to cook dinner on fridays.
Flash.
Single digit age. You rocking me singing "Rock a bye baby," rolling me to the floor when it got to "then down will come baby, cradle and all." Put on repeat for a good half hour, I can imagine. This goes along with me trying to sing the lyrics to Knickerbocker.
Flash.
Fruit salad. You made a lot of fruit salads.
Flash.
You were in the bathroom, showing off you "Ciara" perfume, and it was driving me nuts that you would NOT pronounce her name correctly. Little did you understand that you were wearing the perfume of someone with a song named "My Goodies."
Flash.
Seventh grade. You and Michelle were in the front seat (obviously) and Kayla and I in the back. Passed by Tres Pinos School after the 8th grade graduation, stating "hey, this will be us next year!" You and Michelle were not thrilled with this idea.
Flash.
Fourth grade dance classes. You would be sitting off to the side sewing my fairy halloween costume.
Flash.
Getting in the car after Shirley's funeral. Discussing how delighted we were with the reverend, agreeing that she would be the best choice for someone's funeral service. You saying "If we ever go to church, we are going to her's." Four months later, she was the reverend at your funeral for this very reason.
Flash.
Doing my sixth grade project about a musical artist, and doing it about George Strait. Interviewing you, learning about different concerts you've been to, how you've seen him when he was playing small shows in Salinas before he got big. Laughing at your starstruck face.
Flash.
Every Christmas or birthday. Always getting you some sort of jewelry. Usually a pin. And you wore them all, even the tacky ones.
Flash.
Barbie. I should have an entry by itself just for this story, I can't control my laughter remembering this for the first time in awhile. When you had died your hair this time, you and Janet were too busy watching Providence that you didn't rinse out your hair soon enough, so your hair turned out platinum blonde. The next day I walked behind you on the couch and was startled. You asked what was wrong and I replied "I thought you were Barbie!"
Flash.
Wasn't too long before it happened. I get a text from Danny asking what your middle name is, and you barge into my room, on the phone with Nancy, and say "DON'T TELL HER WHAT MY MIDDLE NAME IS!" And when you finally told them, they didn't believe you. I never got why you didn't like that name, it really isn't that awful. I guess that's why you went simple for mine, "nicole." It's hard to hate a name like that.
Flash.
Listening to you quietly attempt to sing in the car. I guess you weren't THAT bad but it was hard to know what your voice really sounded like if you never let me hear it.
Flash.
You burnt the sausage. I walk into the kitchen, which is almost completely black. Instead of turning off the stove, I run into the laundry room and scold you for trying to burn the house down. Because I am a helpful daughter.
Flash.
Your Christmas sweater. The black one with a pyramid of white teddy bears, reaching for a star.
Flash.
Every night since I was 2 or 3. The goodnight dialogue that never failed.
*Kissing cheek or forehead* Goodnight Mom.
Goodnight Baby Doll
See you in the morning
See you in the morning too
Love you
Love you too.
Flash
Flash
Flash
Flash
Flash
It's all the little things, all these little moments, that fill up my memory. I try and reflect, try and take time to remember. Because I will hate myself if I ever forget what you were like.
It's these little moments that I miss the most. The ones that in normal life would not make a difference to me. But now, it's all I have. And now, it's all I want. For all of these every day moments, to happen now.
Love your baby doll,
Tessy Loo Loo
Flash.
Summer before seventh grade. We are at Sally and Sara's (old) house. Sara, Amanda, and I are practicing singing "Angel" for luminaries. I can't even look at you because you have tears rolling, no, RACING, down your face. Tears of joy. Kathy laughs at this, because everyone knew how sentimental you are.
Flash.
Sophomore year. I am asking for family heirlooms for my Mr. Moore project. You're in your room, going through old jewelry, showing me old things of my grandmother. You then find your engagement ring, the gold rose one. I ask if I can have it, taking it away before you give me an answer. If we hadn't had that conversation, a few weeks later, I would not have known how important that piece of metal was, would not have held it close like I do now.
Flash.
Shannon's baby shower for Brody. You laughing at me and Sara while we eat the baby food. Watching you carefully write in her baby book.
Flash.
Every friday night. We were either out to dinner or shopping with Danny and Nancy, or over at Janet's house. Because it's against the rules to cook dinner on fridays.
Flash.
Single digit age. You rocking me singing "Rock a bye baby," rolling me to the floor when it got to "then down will come baby, cradle and all." Put on repeat for a good half hour, I can imagine. This goes along with me trying to sing the lyrics to Knickerbocker.
Flash.
Fruit salad. You made a lot of fruit salads.
Flash.
You were in the bathroom, showing off you "Ciara" perfume, and it was driving me nuts that you would NOT pronounce her name correctly. Little did you understand that you were wearing the perfume of someone with a song named "My Goodies."
Flash.
Seventh grade. You and Michelle were in the front seat (obviously) and Kayla and I in the back. Passed by Tres Pinos School after the 8th grade graduation, stating "hey, this will be us next year!" You and Michelle were not thrilled with this idea.
Flash.
Fourth grade dance classes. You would be sitting off to the side sewing my fairy halloween costume.
Flash.
Getting in the car after Shirley's funeral. Discussing how delighted we were with the reverend, agreeing that she would be the best choice for someone's funeral service. You saying "If we ever go to church, we are going to her's." Four months later, she was the reverend at your funeral for this very reason.
Flash.
Doing my sixth grade project about a musical artist, and doing it about George Strait. Interviewing you, learning about different concerts you've been to, how you've seen him when he was playing small shows in Salinas before he got big. Laughing at your starstruck face.
Flash.
Every Christmas or birthday. Always getting you some sort of jewelry. Usually a pin. And you wore them all, even the tacky ones.
Flash.
Barbie. I should have an entry by itself just for this story, I can't control my laughter remembering this for the first time in awhile. When you had died your hair this time, you and Janet were too busy watching Providence that you didn't rinse out your hair soon enough, so your hair turned out platinum blonde. The next day I walked behind you on the couch and was startled. You asked what was wrong and I replied "I thought you were Barbie!"
Flash.
Wasn't too long before it happened. I get a text from Danny asking what your middle name is, and you barge into my room, on the phone with Nancy, and say "DON'T TELL HER WHAT MY MIDDLE NAME IS!" And when you finally told them, they didn't believe you. I never got why you didn't like that name, it really isn't that awful. I guess that's why you went simple for mine, "nicole." It's hard to hate a name like that.
Flash.
Listening to you quietly attempt to sing in the car. I guess you weren't THAT bad but it was hard to know what your voice really sounded like if you never let me hear it.
Flash.
You burnt the sausage. I walk into the kitchen, which is almost completely black. Instead of turning off the stove, I run into the laundry room and scold you for trying to burn the house down. Because I am a helpful daughter.
Flash.
Your Christmas sweater. The black one with a pyramid of white teddy bears, reaching for a star.
Flash.
Every night since I was 2 or 3. The goodnight dialogue that never failed.
*Kissing cheek or forehead* Goodnight Mom.
Goodnight Baby Doll
See you in the morning
See you in the morning too
Love you
Love you too.
Flash
Flash
Flash
Flash
Flash
It's all the little things, all these little moments, that fill up my memory. I try and reflect, try and take time to remember. Because I will hate myself if I ever forget what you were like.
It's these little moments that I miss the most. The ones that in normal life would not make a difference to me. But now, it's all I have. And now, it's all I want. For all of these every day moments, to happen now.
Love your baby doll,
Tessy Loo Loo
Monday, June 11, 2012
Stressed. But what else is new?
Dear Mom,
This has been a roller coaster of a weekend. To put in as few words as possible: you never know what life is going to throw at you. And time is a precious thing. I wish everything that my friends are going through would just go away and we all could live a simple care-free summer. But I know life doesn't work like that. The new set of graduates are leaving (3 are going out of state), and I guess it's just hitting me hard. Plus, my friend from school received some of the worst news of her life.
Sometimes I shut myself out when I'm sad. Then I remind myself how blessed I am to have such supportive friends.
This has been a roller coaster of a weekend. To put in as few words as possible: you never know what life is going to throw at you. And time is a precious thing. I wish everything that my friends are going through would just go away and we all could live a simple care-free summer. But I know life doesn't work like that. The new set of graduates are leaving (3 are going out of state), and I guess it's just hitting me hard. Plus, my friend from school received some of the worst news of her life.
Sometimes I shut myself out when I'm sad. Then I remind myself how blessed I am to have such supportive friends.
With all these goofy faces, it's hard to stay stressed. Thank goodness I get to see a lot of these doofs more often now.
Anyway, don't worry about me. I just worry about my friends when things get tough for them. I hope things clear up soon.
Miss you. <3 Please watch over Katie for me in her new life journey. Hopefully I will get myself to write more about that later.
Love your Baby Doll,
Tessy Loo Loo
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Three years.
Dear Mom,
Okay. FIRST OF ALL. I would like to share with you a horrible and horrifying thing I just found out. First off, a "Pure Country 2" was made. They tried to make a sequel of this 1992 classic TWO YEARS AGO. Would you like to hear a synopsis?
"From the director of the 1992 hit Pure Country comes this heartwarming story of three angels who bestow the gift of song upon a young girl named Bobbie (Katrina Elam), who must learn to follow their rules if she wants to keep her extraordinary talent. As she grows up, Bobbie's voice brings her fame in the world of country music, but will she be able to regain her talent after her misbehavior causes the angels to take back their gift?"
Okay. FIRST OF ALL. I would like to share with you a horrible and horrifying thing I just found out. First off, a "Pure Country 2" was made. They tried to make a sequel of this 1992 classic TWO YEARS AGO. Would you like to hear a synopsis?
"From the director of the 1992 hit Pure Country comes this heartwarming story of three angels who bestow the gift of song upon a young girl named Bobbie (Katrina Elam), who must learn to follow their rules if she wants to keep her extraordinary talent. As she grows up, Bobbie's voice brings her fame in the world of country music, but will she be able to regain her talent after her misbehavior causes the angels to take back their gift?"
....Okay what the hell is that crap?? Angels? I really wish I could have shared this moment with you in person. This movie has George Strait in it... as himself... not as Dusty... So.... they basically just used the movie title for people to see the movie, but it has NOTHING to do with Pure Country. Just the same country star and director. People these days.... this is just a disgrace!
Anyway, I had to share this with you. So, I'm really cool and decided to watch the recital dvd from 2009, when they made that beautiful dedication to you. I needed a good cry. And I probably will continue to have little outbursts for the next twenty four hours.
You see, for some reason, every year, it's just not easy. In two and a half hours it will be exactly three years since I lost you. It just bewilders me. That just seems so far away. How have I managed to live without you for three entire years? It just breaks my heart realizing that. I guess it should be a good thing that I have come so far since then. But right now it just sounds awful. I hate that I've had to live without you for that long.
I'm sitting attempting to write out my feelings, wearing your George Strait concert shirt and taz sweatshirt, snuggling with my hospital blankie from that night, listening to all the songs that remind me of you; hoping that some sort of inspiration will come. Something to honor you by. But it's hard to put into words how hard it is to miss someone you love so very much.
How about we move to a happier point.
Anyway, I had to share this with you. So, I'm really cool and decided to watch the recital dvd from 2009, when they made that beautiful dedication to you. I needed a good cry. And I probably will continue to have little outbursts for the next twenty four hours.
You see, for some reason, every year, it's just not easy. In two and a half hours it will be exactly three years since I lost you. It just bewilders me. That just seems so far away. How have I managed to live without you for three entire years? It just breaks my heart realizing that. I guess it should be a good thing that I have come so far since then. But right now it just sounds awful. I hate that I've had to live without you for that long.
I'm sitting attempting to write out my feelings, wearing your George Strait concert shirt and taz sweatshirt, snuggling with my hospital blankie from that night, listening to all the songs that remind me of you; hoping that some sort of inspiration will come. Something to honor you by. But it's hard to put into words how hard it is to miss someone you love so very much.
How about we move to a happier point.
To me, it's all about the little things that get added up. Like this picture. It seems more than a coincidence that we took this photo together 3 or 4 months before you died, when the next recent picture is from when I graduated the 8th grade. It just makes me smile that I have this. So many people will look at this and say that I look just like you. To me, this picture just proves how much prettier than me you are. Seriously, I can't believe you smiled your real amazing smile for this picture. It makes me so happy that I can keep this picture forever. Every time I look at it, I can see everything that made us, us. It shows our inseparable love.
Maybe instead of feeling sad, I can feel lucky. I can brag about the mom I have that exceeds anyone's expectations of a "good person." I know you're shaking your head at me, but it's true. Losing you wasn't just hard for me; everyone lost you. I still feel weird seeing other people being seamstresses for shows, and you're not with them. You affected so many lives, Mom. No one else could ever compare to you.
So yeah, I am lucky. I know that. And maybe I shouldn't feel especially sad today. I mean, I can get sad year round. But it's hard thinking about where I was 3 years ago. By this time I was told you weren't going to make it through the night. It's just not the greatest thing to think about over again. Yet, I continue to do so. It's hard not to.
Sorry, I keep going back and forth between happy and sad, but that's just how I work in times like these I guess. You make me the happiest person in the world. Which also can make me feel like the saddest person in the world, knowing you're gone.
I love you so much Mom. I can never say it enough. Sometimes I wish I could wake up from this nightmare. But sometimes life just makes you live through the nightmares I guess.
Alright, now it's midnight, officially the worst date of the year. I wish you were here with me. I wish I was home.
But for now, I think it's time that I snuggle in your old clothes, and try to have good dreams tonight.
Goodnight mommy. I miss you.
Love your baby doll,
Tessy Loo Loo
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Writing&Thinking.
Dear Mom,
Well, three years is just
around the corner… It hasn’t really hit me. I have been saying/thinking three
years for a little while now, so I’m not sure if I will be super sad this year.
Which, you know, might be a good thing.
I remember junior year when
one year hit.. I think I slept like 3 hours that night. I started folding
laundry at 4 in the morning because I couldn’t sleep. Of course I didn’t have
too much of a problem on easter because… I was in Spain… haha J
I was thinking about junior
year English class, and how Mr. Peters had us write an eyewitness story. He
knew you had recently passed, so he kind of glanced at me and told the class,
“Don’t shed tears over this. I don’t want this assignment to upset anyone.” I
just smiled and thought, “Challenge accepted.” And then I wrote that story
about that horrible Easter eve/morning, April 12, 2009. I’m so glad I wrote
that story… and the feedback I got from him was great. It really empowered me
that I could tell that story, and that I really knew I told it well.
I really wish I wrote more. I
used to write poems and stuff all the time, and you loved them. I guess this
blog helps my writing outlet to an extent. I’ll try writing more poems for you.
I’m not really sure how to
end this entry… I kind of was just preluding for whatever is going to come. Or
not.
I just really want to talk to
you.
Love your baby doll,
Tessy Loo Loo
Monday, March 12, 2012
Missing you, and everything else.
Dear Mom,
Today when I was taking a glorious nap, I had a dream. It was of course a random dream, and had nothing to do with you. I was lost at an airport with some friends, and all I remember is thinking about a zebra, and thinking of you, then I started crying. (In the dream.) It made no sense.
It kind of carried on over to real life though. Of course I miss you all the time, but I guess it took a random dream to remind me again. When I woke up from the dream, all I wanted was to cuddle with you.
You're not the only one I miss. Sometimes I feel far away from some of my closest friends. It's really hard to not communicate with people you used to talk to all the time. I wish I knew how to fix that.
This is a weird sense of loneliness. Some people I feel closer to than I would have ever imagined. But maybe that's because I had to fill in space for the ones who decided to replace me.
When I miss you, I get into thinking mode, and start thinking about everything in a gloomy and critical light. I guess that's what makes this blog good for me.
So now I am going to go to sleep, and wake up to a brand new day. (It's hard to say that without cringing since I absolutely despise Mondays.)
I love you.
Love your baby doll,
Tessy Loo Loo
Today when I was taking a glorious nap, I had a dream. It was of course a random dream, and had nothing to do with you. I was lost at an airport with some friends, and all I remember is thinking about a zebra, and thinking of you, then I started crying. (In the dream.) It made no sense.
It kind of carried on over to real life though. Of course I miss you all the time, but I guess it took a random dream to remind me again. When I woke up from the dream, all I wanted was to cuddle with you.
You're not the only one I miss. Sometimes I feel far away from some of my closest friends. It's really hard to not communicate with people you used to talk to all the time. I wish I knew how to fix that.
This is a weird sense of loneliness. Some people I feel closer to than I would have ever imagined. But maybe that's because I had to fill in space for the ones who decided to replace me.
When I miss you, I get into thinking mode, and start thinking about everything in a gloomy and critical light. I guess that's what makes this blog good for me.
So now I am going to go to sleep, and wake up to a brand new day. (It's hard to say that without cringing since I absolutely despise Mondays.)
I love you.
Love your baby doll,
Tessy Loo Loo
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Talk with your eyes, not your mouth.
Dear Mom,
Man am I going through some roller coasters. And man do I wish I could have you hug me and kiss me on the cheek like you used to.
I can't exactly pinpoint what's going on so I guess I'll just talk. So, today is Valentine's Day. I honestly don't care about being single today. I've always been single for Valentine's Day, and never mind making plans with friends instead of with a guy. But something hit me tonight. Thinking about all the boys who have let me down, and past stuff with friends.
Words, sometimes, mean nothing.
Promises are forgotten.
Friendships are lost, enemies are formed.
Miscommunication happens.
No matter how good of a person you are, people will still screw you over.
Yeah, I know, I sound super cheery right now. I'm not even going to repost this on my facebook wall because I don't want to be that pathetic girl who is venting on Valentine's Day. But I promise that there is a point to me saying all this.
Look at these pictures.
Man am I going through some roller coasters. And man do I wish I could have you hug me and kiss me on the cheek like you used to.
I can't exactly pinpoint what's going on so I guess I'll just talk. So, today is Valentine's Day. I honestly don't care about being single today. I've always been single for Valentine's Day, and never mind making plans with friends instead of with a guy. But something hit me tonight. Thinking about all the boys who have let me down, and past stuff with friends.
Words, sometimes, mean nothing.
Promises are forgotten.
Friendships are lost, enemies are formed.
Miscommunication happens.
No matter how good of a person you are, people will still screw you over.
Yeah, I know, I sound super cheery right now. I'm not even going to repost this on my facebook wall because I don't want to be that pathetic girl who is venting on Valentine's Day. But I promise that there is a point to me saying all this.
Look at these pictures.
Now, sometimes I feel like pictures shouldn't need captions. Looking at these photos, I can see what words would try and express what's going on. Smiles don't just happen with the mouth; it's really about the eyes. Someone's eyes can say so much, without speaking any words. That whole saying "actions speak louder than words?" Yeah, they do.
Idk, maybe I'm talking in circles. All I'm saying is that I've been let down by so many people. It's hard to have a good attitude about love and relationships, when you've constantly been reminded of what can go wrong, and that people will always find reasons for why you are not good enough.
Then I look at these pictures.
I see happiness.
I see life.
I see family.
I see love.
These pictures, along with other memorabilia, are all I have left of you. And honestly, they show more promise to love than all of those who have let me down in my life. You holding my hand in that picture is a symbol.
"I will always be here with you, every step of the way."
Is it weird that I'm comparing my shitty love life to a picture from when I was little? Maybe. But it makes sense to me. People can let you down and make you feel worthless and replaceable. But the people that really matter, they're the ones who show the promises they don't have to even say out loud. I mean heck, I couldn't even say when the last time you went out with a guy. It wasn't while I was alive. And look, look at how happy you are. You continued to love and spread love to everyone around you, even if maybe you didn't have as much as everyone else did.
I long for the day when I have my own daughter, and get to experience this kind of never ending love.
You give me hope, Mom.
Love your baby doll,
Tessy Loo Loo
Monday, January 16, 2012
The Cycle of Death.
Dear Mom,
But what I do know, is that a lot of good people have been taken away from the people around me lately. My heart aches for them, understanding their pain, to a certain extent. I hope someday soon they'll all truly understand that it DOES get better. It's not just an overused phrase.
Maybe there's no reason as to why people are taken away from us. It's just the cycle of life. To me, it really is a cycle. Cycles never end. Just like life. I believe we move from one life to the next. We just don't know what's in store for us until OUR time comes.
Even though I'm talking in circles right now, I guess the point I'm trying to make is that I'm glad I've learned what I've learned about death, because it helps me when things like this happen to those around me. Tragedies are never easy to deal with, but I guess I like being strong for other people, instead of trying to be strong for myself.
I love you Mom. Thank you for all that you've taught me.
“Death takes the good, too good to stay, And leaves the bad, too bad to take away." --Harold Kushner.I found this quote tonight, and it really made me think. In fact, I am thinking so many things about it, that it's hard to put it into words.
But what I do know, is that a lot of good people have been taken away from the people around me lately. My heart aches for them, understanding their pain, to a certain extent. I hope someday soon they'll all truly understand that it DOES get better. It's not just an overused phrase.
Maybe there's no reason as to why people are taken away from us. It's just the cycle of life. To me, it really is a cycle. Cycles never end. Just like life. I believe we move from one life to the next. We just don't know what's in store for us until OUR time comes.
Even though I'm talking in circles right now, I guess the point I'm trying to make is that I'm glad I've learned what I've learned about death, because it helps me when things like this happen to those around me. Tragedies are never easy to deal with, but I guess I like being strong for other people, instead of trying to be strong for myself.
I love you Mom. Thank you for all that you've taught me.
Love your BabyDoll,
Tessy Loo Loo
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