Normally, this is a knitting blog, but seeing how I can't knit this week because of past events, this will be a different sort of entry.
I need to write, because if I don’t then I’ll talk to everyone I know about this... and I really am sick of doing that. I wish I didn’t still feel like this. I’m trying to avoid it at this point, but this is just something that cannot be avoided, no matter how hard I try. But what do I write? That I hate tomorrow, St. Valentine’s Day? It has always irked me that people just call it Valentine’s Day, not St. People say St. Patty’s or St. Patrick’s Day, why leave out the St for tomorrow?!? I was never a fan of the day, but damnit Mom, you just took the cake on it. I don’t know if I’d still feel this way if she died on the 13th or the 15th. I have a friend who didn’t find out until the 15th and she says that helps for her, but ugh, I don’t. I was there, with the whole family, sitting on Dad’s lap, my brother and grandmother to my right, my two aunts and grandfather to my left. We were all there for her last breath and Grandma was the one who finally said she was gone.
I think she held on for the 14th, honestly. I mean, there were so many times she didn’t feel loved from her family. She waited for all of us to be in the room with her. I think she knew what was going on, even if she wasn’t responsive. I never said goodbye. I couldn’t, I didn’t want to believe that she would actually go. I don’t believe that time was the last time I will ever see her. I know she lives on, somewhere. I’ve felt her, felt her holding me, comforting me when I’ve needed it, so has my father. It’s that small amount of hope that helped me carry on through the years after, through all the depression and the pain.
That was 9 years ago. Some times it feels like forever ago, some days it feels like yesterday. To any of my friends who have lost loved ones, the pain does get easier to deal with, I promise. You might not think so at the time, but it truly does. I was also young. At 16, it is difficult to watch your mother die and know there is absolutely nothing you can do to help. I remember many times my mother asked me to help her change her bandages after her mastectomy. Every time I saw the scars and wounds, I cringed. I wanted to help, but it was so, so hard.
I don’t remember much about those two years that my mother was sick. I just tried to be a normal kid, go to school, dance, bowling, doing homework, going on dates, and all that fun stuff. It pains me so much that my mother wasn’t there for either of my proms, my graduation from both high school and college, and most recently, for my wedding. She won’t be there when I find out that I’m pregnant, when I give birth, or when I have questions about raising my children. She really was my best friend.
Now I have another best friend, my dear and loving husband. He lost his father 5 years ago around Thanksgiving. It didn’t take me long after college to find him either. We met May 23, 2006, almost 3 years ago now, one year after my huge breakup with my ex, Jay. I won’t spare his feelings anymore when I say he was an abusive asshole who didn’t give a damn about me, but I clung onto him because he was the only real thing I had at the time (which was 2 years after my mom’s death and my freshman year in college). I’ve forgiven him long ago, but there are others in my life that may never.
When I went on field camp through Lehigh University (college near my hometown), I met Aaron. I wasn’t there to impress anyone. Aaron and I became friends and he treated me with such respect. In that month of camping, I came to a lot of realizations, especially about my relationship with Jay. It helped that I had absolutely no cell phone reception in Wyoming or Idaho. I didn’t want to be treated with the lowest priority on the totem pole, which he always did. Aaron’s friendship was a fairytale I needed and because of him, my entire life changed. He’s one of those people who did the smallest thing by being kind to me and he changed my life forever. I’d like to thank him one day for that.
I broke up with Jay as soon as I got back to PA with the camp and I was supposed to go on a Cruise with his family, but I was in NO shape to do that! After I got back to Arizona, I dated a couple of friends, who knew me while dating Jay, and a few who didn’t. I even remember the day he found out that I went out with someone else and he keyed my car (which he denied but why was he searching around MY car for his keys, when he wasn’t even at the bar I was at, and it just so happened that my car was keyed too? $800 worth of damage!). Ah, fun memories.
Then I moved back to PA at the end of 2005, when I graduated from college. I continued to date when I moved back. I remember that first St. Valentine’s Day when I had a date, which involved me NOT cooking and my date did (SCORE!!!). When I met Rob in May that year, I wasn’t really dating anyone, I worked way too much. Rob and I became friends through the band, and he was the only one over 21 at the time, so we went out for drinks a lot and got to know each other.
Rob and I ended up having lots in common. My friends in Philly made fun of me because he was a ‘redneck.’ My thoughts were, well, this is a redneck who has an education and works for TV. Just because he hunts, enjoys the outdoors, has a pickup truck, and wears camo (ok scratch the last part), doesn’t mean he’s a redneck. I mean, he is, and so am I, but they always said it with such a degraded sound.
We dated for a week in July until someone introduced us as his girlfriend, which freaked me the heck out. I was not, in any way, ready for a relationship. I was still healing from Jay. Rob was pissed at me for a month and a half, but luckily, he had a very good friend (that I met a few times). Her name was Tara. She told him what she believed I was going through, which she was right. He began to forgive me for breaking his heart. And I was with him when he got the call on September 24, 2006 that she was killed in an accident the night before. I barely knew her and yet, I have her to thank for my husband. It hurts to know I can never thank her for that.
I helped Rob get through the pain of Tara’s death. After a bit over a month, I realized that I felt for Rob the same way he still felt for me. We were coming back from his cabin (the first time I was there) when he told me he still had feelings for me. It wasn’t until November 6, 2006 that I decided to make it official that he was my boyfriend. That took a lot of me to say that. Plus, I didn’t want to do to him what Jay had done to me.
St. Valentine’s Day 2007 was awful, in a funny way. Rob was hoping to get back from Atlanta, GA in time... and he would have if I-78 wasn’t a cluster-fuck. He was stuck on the interstate for 14 hours in that awful snow fall that PennDOT knew about and did absolutely fucking nothing about. Do I sound bitter?!? Yea, I was extremely pissed NO ONE got fired on that. But I got my flowers and a teddy bear from Rob anyway. Rob had gotten (the infamous) Mr. Bear earlier in the week. The next day, Dad ended up locking my keys in my car (Rob had the other set) with the engine running and a full tank of gas. Hilarious story looking back on it.
In March, Rob and I moved in together, much to my father’s dismay. However, I lived in Philly and Rob in Nazareth. We compromised and moved to Allentown. Rob proposed to me on September 8, 2007 in Virginia Beach at sunrise by writing it all in the sand and having my mother’s ring. I decided to keep that for our daughter. I wear it occasionally, but for some reason, I don’t feel that I could wear it.
Rob and I were married on October 11, 2008. We’ve been married for 4 months now. My life’s a lot different than it was even a few years ago. I’ve changed. The past 9 years have been so different. I don’t regret anything, because I wouldn’t be the woman I am today had things been different. I miss my mother so much and I wish that Rob had been able to know her, just as he wishes I would’ve been able to meet his father.
There are times that I wonder who I’d be and how different my life would be if my mother had never been diagnosed or passed away from breast cancer. I used to have dreams of her a lot, but I haven’t had any recently. I think she’s looking out for my father more now. I’m no longer depressed, no longer on antidepressants, which is a wonderful feeling. My wounds are healed but the scars are still visible. They’ll fade eventually, and the reminder of them will become less and less. But the scars remind me who I am and where I came from. And nothing will take that away, I won’t let it.
I know I am very blessed with my life. I have a wonderful and loving family and in-laws. I might be one of the rare people who adore her mother-in-law. Sue is so nice and kind, and helps me pick on my poor husband. I cannot imagine what she or my father went through with the losses we’ve shared. I don’t know what I would do if anything would happen to Rob. I just remind myself of that every time he does something that ticks me off. But I do thank God for all of the blessings in my life. Things could have been a lot different, but I know there’s someone watching out for me.
Like my mom told me in March 2000, “Remember I am your Mother and your prayers are being heard.”
I need to write, because if I don’t then I’ll talk to everyone I know about this... and I really am sick of doing that. I wish I didn’t still feel like this. I’m trying to avoid it at this point, but this is just something that cannot be avoided, no matter how hard I try. But what do I write? That I hate tomorrow, St. Valentine’s Day? It has always irked me that people just call it Valentine’s Day, not St. People say St. Patty’s or St. Patrick’s Day, why leave out the St for tomorrow?!? I was never a fan of the day, but damnit Mom, you just took the cake on it. I don’t know if I’d still feel this way if she died on the 13th or the 15th. I have a friend who didn’t find out until the 15th and she says that helps for her, but ugh, I don’t. I was there, with the whole family, sitting on Dad’s lap, my brother and grandmother to my right, my two aunts and grandfather to my left. We were all there for her last breath and Grandma was the one who finally said she was gone.
I think she held on for the 14th, honestly. I mean, there were so many times she didn’t feel loved from her family. She waited for all of us to be in the room with her. I think she knew what was going on, even if she wasn’t responsive. I never said goodbye. I couldn’t, I didn’t want to believe that she would actually go. I don’t believe that time was the last time I will ever see her. I know she lives on, somewhere. I’ve felt her, felt her holding me, comforting me when I’ve needed it, so has my father. It’s that small amount of hope that helped me carry on through the years after, through all the depression and the pain.
That was 9 years ago. Some times it feels like forever ago, some days it feels like yesterday. To any of my friends who have lost loved ones, the pain does get easier to deal with, I promise. You might not think so at the time, but it truly does. I was also young. At 16, it is difficult to watch your mother die and know there is absolutely nothing you can do to help. I remember many times my mother asked me to help her change her bandages after her mastectomy. Every time I saw the scars and wounds, I cringed. I wanted to help, but it was so, so hard.
I don’t remember much about those two years that my mother was sick. I just tried to be a normal kid, go to school, dance, bowling, doing homework, going on dates, and all that fun stuff. It pains me so much that my mother wasn’t there for either of my proms, my graduation from both high school and college, and most recently, for my wedding. She won’t be there when I find out that I’m pregnant, when I give birth, or when I have questions about raising my children. She really was my best friend.
Now I have another best friend, my dear and loving husband. He lost his father 5 years ago around Thanksgiving. It didn’t take me long after college to find him either. We met May 23, 2006, almost 3 years ago now, one year after my huge breakup with my ex, Jay. I won’t spare his feelings anymore when I say he was an abusive asshole who didn’t give a damn about me, but I clung onto him because he was the only real thing I had at the time (which was 2 years after my mom’s death and my freshman year in college). I’ve forgiven him long ago, but there are others in my life that may never.
When I went on field camp through Lehigh University (college near my hometown), I met Aaron. I wasn’t there to impress anyone. Aaron and I became friends and he treated me with such respect. In that month of camping, I came to a lot of realizations, especially about my relationship with Jay. It helped that I had absolutely no cell phone reception in Wyoming or Idaho. I didn’t want to be treated with the lowest priority on the totem pole, which he always did. Aaron’s friendship was a fairytale I needed and because of him, my entire life changed. He’s one of those people who did the smallest thing by being kind to me and he changed my life forever. I’d like to thank him one day for that.
I broke up with Jay as soon as I got back to PA with the camp and I was supposed to go on a Cruise with his family, but I was in NO shape to do that! After I got back to Arizona, I dated a couple of friends, who knew me while dating Jay, and a few who didn’t. I even remember the day he found out that I went out with someone else and he keyed my car (which he denied but why was he searching around MY car for his keys, when he wasn’t even at the bar I was at, and it just so happened that my car was keyed too? $800 worth of damage!). Ah, fun memories.
Then I moved back to PA at the end of 2005, when I graduated from college. I continued to date when I moved back. I remember that first St. Valentine’s Day when I had a date, which involved me NOT cooking and my date did (SCORE!!!). When I met Rob in May that year, I wasn’t really dating anyone, I worked way too much. Rob and I became friends through the band, and he was the only one over 21 at the time, so we went out for drinks a lot and got to know each other.
Rob and I ended up having lots in common. My friends in Philly made fun of me because he was a ‘redneck.’ My thoughts were, well, this is a redneck who has an education and works for TV. Just because he hunts, enjoys the outdoors, has a pickup truck, and wears camo (ok scratch the last part), doesn’t mean he’s a redneck. I mean, he is, and so am I, but they always said it with such a degraded sound.
We dated for a week in July until someone introduced us as his girlfriend, which freaked me the heck out. I was not, in any way, ready for a relationship. I was still healing from Jay. Rob was pissed at me for a month and a half, but luckily, he had a very good friend (that I met a few times). Her name was Tara. She told him what she believed I was going through, which she was right. He began to forgive me for breaking his heart. And I was with him when he got the call on September 24, 2006 that she was killed in an accident the night before. I barely knew her and yet, I have her to thank for my husband. It hurts to know I can never thank her for that.
I helped Rob get through the pain of Tara’s death. After a bit over a month, I realized that I felt for Rob the same way he still felt for me. We were coming back from his cabin (the first time I was there) when he told me he still had feelings for me. It wasn’t until November 6, 2006 that I decided to make it official that he was my boyfriend. That took a lot of me to say that. Plus, I didn’t want to do to him what Jay had done to me.
St. Valentine’s Day 2007 was awful, in a funny way. Rob was hoping to get back from Atlanta, GA in time... and he would have if I-78 wasn’t a cluster-fuck. He was stuck on the interstate for 14 hours in that awful snow fall that PennDOT knew about and did absolutely fucking nothing about. Do I sound bitter?!? Yea, I was extremely pissed NO ONE got fired on that. But I got my flowers and a teddy bear from Rob anyway. Rob had gotten (the infamous) Mr. Bear earlier in the week. The next day, Dad ended up locking my keys in my car (Rob had the other set) with the engine running and a full tank of gas. Hilarious story looking back on it.
In March, Rob and I moved in together, much to my father’s dismay. However, I lived in Philly and Rob in Nazareth. We compromised and moved to Allentown. Rob proposed to me on September 8, 2007 in Virginia Beach at sunrise by writing it all in the sand and having my mother’s ring. I decided to keep that for our daughter. I wear it occasionally, but for some reason, I don’t feel that I could wear it.
Rob and I were married on October 11, 2008. We’ve been married for 4 months now. My life’s a lot different than it was even a few years ago. I’ve changed. The past 9 years have been so different. I don’t regret anything, because I wouldn’t be the woman I am today had things been different. I miss my mother so much and I wish that Rob had been able to know her, just as he wishes I would’ve been able to meet his father.
There are times that I wonder who I’d be and how different my life would be if my mother had never been diagnosed or passed away from breast cancer. I used to have dreams of her a lot, but I haven’t had any recently. I think she’s looking out for my father more now. I’m no longer depressed, no longer on antidepressants, which is a wonderful feeling. My wounds are healed but the scars are still visible. They’ll fade eventually, and the reminder of them will become less and less. But the scars remind me who I am and where I came from. And nothing will take that away, I won’t let it.
I know I am very blessed with my life. I have a wonderful and loving family and in-laws. I might be one of the rare people who adore her mother-in-law. Sue is so nice and kind, and helps me pick on my poor husband. I cannot imagine what she or my father went through with the losses we’ve shared. I don’t know what I would do if anything would happen to Rob. I just remind myself of that every time he does something that ticks me off. But I do thank God for all of the blessings in my life. Things could have been a lot different, but I know there’s someone watching out for me.
Like my mom told me in March 2000, “Remember I am your Mother and your prayers are being heard.”
In memory of
Carla Niemy Taft
6/15/1957 – 2/14/2000
6/15/1957 – 2/14/2000
