I have the sads....

I'm not trying to bring anyone down today, but this morning I woke up in tears. I'm not crazy, I swear (maybe only a little). However, I had a good reason - my mom died about two months ago and while I've been grieving in what I think is a pretty normal fashion during my waking life, I have only had two dreams about her since she passed away. I am NOT one to share dreams because frankly I find listening to other peoples' dreams to be the most annoying thing in the world - seriously people, your dreams make no sense, it's not a good story and IT DIDN'T EVEN REALLY HAPPEN, so stop telling me about them! I'd rather have my wisdom teeth removed than listen to your dream! I'd rather spend a week in line at the DMV and once the line ends, you don't get squat - not a license, Not a permit, not a non driver ID, not a vanity license plate, NOTHING! That is how much I hate listening to other peoples' dreams. Seriously - buy a dream journal, write it down and leave me out of it, please!

Anyway now I'm going to be a hypocrite for a minute and tell you about my dreams (it's my blog, I can do that). Don't worry, I'm not going to get into details and the only long winded part of this has already occurred. My first dream about my mother was a week ago I think, it didn't really upset me because I knew in the dream that she had passed away but I got to see her face again and it was sort of nice and reassuring. But Last night was the WORST. The dream itself was great, Mom was still alive and the last two months were all a bad dream! YAY! Not yay. Boo. Because I woke up and my stupid dream that had made me so happy was all a lie. I was so upset, it was one of those dreams like where you win the lottery and it's so real and you wake up and you're still broke and you never even buy  stupid lottery tickets anyway so why would you think you won? Idiot. That's what it felt like only a million times worse because this was my mom - who I miss more than anything and my stupid brain lied to me and promised she was alive. My brain is such a jerk. Why would you do that to me brain? why are you so mean? Did you think you were helping, because you weren't. Now I'm sadder than I was before - like I feel like I did the day she died. I had two months of grieving under my belt and I was functioning and kind of normal (meaning I wasn't about to burst into tears on the subway or in the grocery store). I had this under control, I was missing my mom but I could actually get things done. Now I'm a mess and I'm writing about it in a somewhat public forum that is supposed to be about my art. I HATE YOU BRAIN! I should have killed all your cells with alcohol when I was in college! This is what I get for treating you with respect all these years. 

Okay, I feel a little better now that I've expressed that and this post will in fact be art related eventually. First a little about my mother. She was amazing. Everyone who has a good relationship with their mom will say that, but mine was. She grew up the second oldest of ELEVEN (yes I said eleven). Incidentally my grandparents were amazing people also but I'll get to that when I post the series I did of my maternal grandmother. Back to my mom, she had a rough life - not the first sixteen years - those were about as idyllic as life can be when you grow up in a house with TEN siblings. At sixteen her father, whom she loved very much, passed away very suddenly. It was extremely hard on her as well as her brothers and sisters and my grandmother and my grandfather's mother and sister and pretty much anyone who knew him. I don't think she was ever able to stop grieving his death. She met my father in college and they got married and eventually had some kids (me included). Sadly my older brother Ben was hit and killed by a car when he was eleven and my poor mother witnessed this. This also was hard on everyone - but my poor mother could never stop holding onto guilt, as if it had been her fault. But she was very strong, stronger than I think anyone ever knew. She suffered from chronic pain and several degenerative disorders that made day to day life very difficult and I always felt and still feel, the pain was only compounded by the horrible grief and unnecessary guilt that consumed her. She was a woman who could do so many things, she was smart and talented and beautiful. But I have never met a more self deprecating human being so blind to their talents and abilities. She was an amazing dancer as a child (she still had the moves the last time I saw her dance at a wedding). She was an accomplished pianist, but never played because the arthritis in her hands made them hurt too much (although once in a while she would sit at the piano and it was as if she'd never stopped practicing). She was a very talented writer - stories, poems - she probably could have been a lyricist with how good she was at rhyming. As much as she claimed to have no artistic talent - the woman was a master of cakes before they had reality shows about cake decorating. I mean look at this, she did this all by herself - it's to scale:

All of these things she was so good at - but it was her children's accomplishments she was much more interested in. She was our biggest fan, our biggest supporter, no matter how small the triumph. And she was there when we were down to pick us up again. She was the best mother. Not just to her own children, but to anyone who needed her (a trait she inherited from her own mother, I suspect). And boy did she spoil us all rotten. They called her Auntie Claus and she really earned that name.

I have no real conclusion to this so here are some portraits I did of her:

Untitled

the source was a photo of her and my father at the Yale prom. I wasn't kidding when I said she was beautiful. 

Mother and Child 

a portrait of her and my eldest brother Will as an infant

And even though it isn't my artwork, this is my favorite photo of her, ever:

love it.

Boy, do I miss that lady.

* Update* I do have a sort of conclusion to this post, I meant to include earlier. Of all the words of kindness I received right after my mom passed away, the sentiment that has helped me the most, was from a former co-worker and friend. This friend was very close to her own mother and had lost her a few years back. I remember (before my mom passed) how my friend would talk about how much she loved and missed her mother and it always broke my heart, because although I have experienced loss in my life, the thought of losing my own mother seemed impossible to handle. This friend said to me:

"This is the hardest thing you'll ever face in your life.... But you will get through this. Your mother is at rest and she is at peace."

I'm not sure why these particular words are so comforting, a lot of people have made similar statements to me. I think maybe the source - in many ways I think her relationship to her mother mirrored my own. Or the acknowledgement of how hard this is and will continue to be. But ultimately she believes I won't crumble from the weight of this grief. And even though I still tear up when I read her words, I can't help feel a little stronger too.