Tag: motherless daughter

Coming Full Circle – September 2nd

It’s come full circle for me, Monday, September 2nd, being the one year anniversary of my father’s passing. I put my music and writing projects on hold a little over a year ago due to his declining health.  Managing his healthcare turned out to be a full-time job, and even though I was blessed to share the challenge with my two siblings, it was something I needed to give as much of my head and heart to (while also being present to my husband, child, and day job).  As much of a Wonder Woman I’d like to imagine I could be, there’s only so much any of us can do in a day.

Then there’s heartbreak:  I had to put the music, the writing, the dreaming aside, for a while.  I admit, I was disappointed and frustrated at the time.  But, no regrets.  My dad, I mean, he was pretty awesome.  Maybe not perfect, but awesome none-the-less.  All around cool guy, and while we had our rough years, in the end, we were like this.

He lived with my husband, my son and me for that last year.  Wow, that was a challenge!  But I am so grateful my son had time with his Papa Dodie. Selfishly, I’m just glad for every moment I had with him too. I don’t care how grown up or mature you get, a girl still needs her daddy.  Every morning when I walked out the door to work, he’d say, with this look of adoration and sincere amazement, “You look GORGEOUS.”

And here’s the thing:  I never questioned that he believed it.

How many times in our life do we hear that?  I heard it everyday for that last year.  And I miss it now.

Like I said, awesome.

After his passing, it took time for me to be present to my music and writing projects, open to the creative spirit.  Gratefully, experience has taught me that even the creative spirit needs rest at times – time to process and heal before it can give its best.  Just like any other part of the body.

I waited, sometimes patiently, others not.  (That’s the anxious, anal, task-master bitty in me that has to get things done!)  And now, I am proud to share that the music is done. On the one year anniversary of my father’s death, it is finished.  I know he had something to do with it.  Life just works that way, doesn’t it?

A Mother’s Day Tribute – Sort of

My mom passed away when I was 16.  My sister was only 8.  After a long bout with breast cancer in a time when nobody talked about breast cancer, she finally let go, and I believe found her peace.  She was my best friend.  My greatest role-model.  My mama.

I was just a girl.  Over the years, I have had to navigate my way through becoming a woman.  While every book written or kind words from loving family and friends is helpful, nothing can make up for the mom I should have had during the past 25+ years.

I miss her every day, still.  Sometimes I’m not even fully aware of it, but it’s there.  I think maybe, being normal for me has been redefined to being someone with a small, yet not insignificant piece of her heart missing.  We all have our losses, and I realize this is part of what connects us as humans.

Missing, is a sense in itself it would seem.  There are people who have had organs removed and say that at times they can feel that missing organ.  I somehow get what they mean.  I mean, I can actually feel that missing space inside me.  It manifests itself in an anxious, unsettled tension that takes me over, almost as if a little alarm is going off.

It wasn’t until a few years back that I put two-and-two together and realized this missing feeling always coincided with dates related to my mom:  her birthday, the day she died, the day we buried her.

June 30th is one of those days — her birthday.  After so many years of not knowing what to do with the feelings I had, I decided it was time to write a song — a dedication to the beautiful person I loved.  Rather than a sad tribute, I chose to make it a sort of “what would I do if you were here today” celebration of her spirit:  buy her flowers, make her breakfast in bed, taking her shopping, hold her, hug her, let her know how beautiful she is.

I’d buy her a cake, for sure.  Chocolate, of course.

The song — Buying A Cake — lets me do that.  Because I know in my heart that when I sing it, she feels all the love that I have for her.  And it was her lovely spirit that allowed me to write such a beautifully emotive song.

Happy Birthday, to my mama.  This one’s for you.