Year of Firsts - Part 1

So it has been over a year since my Mom has passed away. Everyone said the “year of firsts” is the worst. With this in mind I prepared for the worst and hoped for the best when those firsts were coming.

My first- first was after the death and the funeral it was time for me to head back to Manitowoc. It is a four hour drive. A long drive to allow for a lot of time of thinking. I knew if I thought too much I could drive myself crazy. So I turned on the radio and sang my heart out. I am a really good singer when I am by myself, or at least I tell myself that. As I reached Milwaukee though the songs were not strong enough to overcome the thoughts and the emotions building inside. In the past besides my husband, my Mom was the other person I would call when I was having a bad day. In fact I would usually call her first and then if she was not available call my husband. There is nothing more comforting and satisfying as having Mom listen to me, say she understands, provides advice and then tell me it will be ok and that she loves me. That is what I needed at this moment. I had just experienced one of the most traumatic events in my life and I wanted to tell Mom about the events. Sure she was there during the events, but she wasn’t there now to comfort me. Milwaukee to Manitowoc was much of a blur as I cried at the loss of my Mom and all the times from that moment on that I would need be able to receive her comfort in those crazy moments. Even as I write this the tears begin to fall recognizing how often I have wanted to reach out and talk to Mom. We used to talk two to three times a week. Sometimes for just a quick check in and others for hours as we shared about the challenges of the week. Fortunately for her the challenges are done, mine have continued and even more so because one of my main challenges is just not having her. Yet I seem to manage every time. I have had to turn to my faith more, my husband more and quite often just keep it to myself more.

The next first was receiving a call on my cell-phone that said “Mom.” When I saw that for a slight moment I got that emotion of excitement when I knew Mom was calling, until I realized this time it would not be her. It was Dad calling to check in on me. It was nice that he did, but it forced me to face the fact that Mom was gone. No more would the calls from home be from Mom. I was with Dave when this happened and he provided the comfort I needed as I erased the name mom from my phone and replaced it with home. I do have to say since Mom’s passing Dad and I have definitely gotten closer. My Dad is not always that talkative. In fact many times when I would call home and he would answer we would talk about the weather and what was for dinner. As soon as we got the two surface questions out of the way he would say, “do you want to talk to mom?” Sometimes I would let him know that I wouldn’t mind talking to him, but he would still just hand the phone to Mom. Dad and I have had to learn to talk to each other beyond the weather and dinner. We have had our moments where we have not seen eye to eye or moments of misunderstandings. However for the most part it has been nice to get to know and talk to my Dad more than we have talked in all my years.

We had Mom’s birthday to overcome. It was nice as the whole family came together for dinner to celebrate the life of Mom and the legacy she had left behind. Speaking of legacy….Mendota High School where Mom had worked purchased and dedicated a plaque in Mom’s honor. All of the staff were welcomed to donate and attend the ceremony. It is a beautiful plaque that hangs just outside the cafeteria doors. The plaque includes her picture and reads, “a dear friend, dedicated co-worker and true Trojan Hero.” The high school volleyball team even raised money in memory of Mom to be donated to the American Cancer Society.

Mom was a big supporter of the American Cancer Society and the Relay for Life. This year she was only part of the team in Spirit. I did join the team this year and am still upset that I have never participated with Mom, Aunt Rita and the others in the past. This year though the team hosted a 5k. The race went past my parent’s house and some of our team decorated the yard in her memory. One runner even put Mom’s name on her number bib, so Mom could run the race with her. Aunt Wanda made a beautiful quilt to auction off and donate the money to Relay for Life. On the quilt is a label with the words, “in memory of Carolyn Pollard.” Although many still thinks it wasn’t legit, but I am sure it was fate, my Aunt Jeri won the quilt and donated it back to me which now rests on Mom’s quilt rack in my living room. Our Relay for Life shirts displayed Mom’s initials on the sleeve. Plus the event was moved from outside to inside Mendota High School. Because of the weather and the move to the high school, I was able to give my talk on being a caretaker in the very cafeteria that Mom had helped design and worked in for many years. I was able to walk the very halls and the gym that she walked many days. Relay for Life is always fun outside, but this year it was nice to be in the place that her spirit resonated with so many everywhere we would go in the building.

Other firsts in 2013 was Dad’s birthday. Thanksgiving was another, but wasn’t as difficult for me since I barely ever went home for Thanksgiving. I fed an army so to distract me from the emotional turmoil. Christmas though…was another holiday. Christmas is a big thing in my family. We all get together, have dinner, go to church and come home to open presents. We have a big family but I could always here Mom’s laugh among the voices. This hear the room seemed silent as the laugh was not there…Mom was not there. I usually say grace before the meal and I was prepared to keep it short. However Elissa read this beautiful poem of lost ones at Christmas time. As she read I kept telling myself to not listen, don’t cry. I repeated that to myself probably twenty times, but it did no good. I could only get a few words out for the prayer and could not compose myself. Rita took over. As soon as we were done with prayer, Dad and I headed to the other room and cried. The only gift I wanted that year and the only gift I will never receive until I pass is to just see my Mom, get her big hugs and be able to sit by her side as we talk until we are too tired to talk. Another first though that Christmas, Dad went to church. That had not happened for quite some time. I enjoyed having him there. I know Mom was smiling and I hope it becomes a new tradition.

One more first in 2013 that I can’t forget to mention was what happened that first weekend home after the funeral. The first night I got home after the funeral I was so excited to be in my own bed with the ability to sleep and not open my eyes until my body was rested. However that next morning at 4:30 am I heard a rooster do its cock-a-dooling. Then I heard another and it went on. I remember not opening my eyes, but simply saying, “really?” I thought for sure they would end soon. Yet it kept going on. So I finally opened my eyes and noticed it was 5:10am. I thought maybe the roosters just wanted out of their cage, so I threw the covers off, put on my slippers and went to go open the cage. I came back to bed and hoped for the best. Yet instead of them quitting they just got louder as they walked over by our bedroom window to make their presence known. I decided to get up. Before Mom got sick the roosters were still just babies and were not vocal at all. So I was not prepared at all for the loud commotion in the morning. The second morning was no different and the roosters would not shut up. As I laid in bed frustrated by the inability to sleep in, I exclaimed the roosters would have to die. This was on Friday. Saturday, with Dave’s desire to please his wife. Gathered the roosters. As I looked out the window and saw he had a rooster in his hand, for a brief moment I felt sorry for the fate that awaited the rooster. But then I heard that loud noise in the morning in my head and my moment of sorrow passed. So this was the first time I experienced a real-life killing of a chicken, making fresh chicken stew, and lacking the care for eliminating an animal’s life. I still care for all the other animals, the roosters had to go though.