Torts & Tots

Motherhood. Lawyer-dom. And maybe a few nice recipes.

Turning The Page.

with 4 comments


It’s been a little hard for me to look at this blog lately. When I first started this, my purpose was two-fold. One, all of our family is out-of-town, so it was an easy way to share our day-to-day lives. Two, it was a substitute for my noticeable lack of baby books. But, as is almost always the case in life, what starts as one thing ended up as an entirely different thing. I talked to my mom almost daily. She heard every story I had. And yet, this blog became a thing between us. I would write a post, she would call me laughing, and we would re-live the blogged-about moment. Before long, each time I wrote a post I was writing it for her, including the tidbits I knew she would find funny, writing in much the same tone as our blunt conversations.

And now she is gone. But the blog lives on. And I hate the blog a little bit. I’m holding a grudge against a blog. As much as it has encapsulated the joys and pitfalls of my growth experience as a mother, it reminds me of what I no longer have. Herein lies the problem with my attitude towards life these days. I have thirty-three years of the brightest of happy memories with my mom. But I won’t let myself open them. I can’t bare to peek in, to think about that happiness because it makes my pain much more acute.

I’m not good with grief. I have never known what to say to other people who were grieving. I think, in part, because I have never understood what I could say to alleviate someone else’s pain, could never find the words. But I also think, in part, it was because I couldn’t bear to feel that pain, to let myself imagine having that kind of loss myself. I remember the first time I ever let myself think what it would be like if my mom died. It was almost two years ago, and we had just learned about the first of my mom’s health problems. It was a flicker across my mind, quickly buried. It kept bobbing back up over the next two years, always dismissed, but each time returning more quickly than the last. And then one day, it wasn’t me quietly fearing that my mom wouldn’t make it – it was my dad telling me that she was not going to make it. It was me watching my mom fade away.

Apparently, I’m not good with my own grief either. I’ve never been a sharer of my deepest emotions or comfortable feeling sad or vulnerable. I always thought that I was strong. But grief is the thing that shows you how breakable you truly are. And how changeable your life really is.

But as uncomfortable as I am in my own skin these days, I have to start letting the happy in. I have to relive the happy memories to chase away the bad ones, even though it will sting. Someone I love and trust very much recently told me, that “we can’t see everything as a loss and forget all the amazing blessing we had and want to pass on to our children.” And it made me realize how very much I am doing that.

So today, I’m going to try to quit hating this blog so much and try getting back on the horse with the hope that, once again, it will start as one thing and end as another. It starts with this post and this picture. A picture of my mom and Claire. In fact, the last picture of them, which coincides with the last time I remember being with her before her life took a turn down a path that led to us saying goodbye to her. And I will think of each post as a continuation of our thirty-three year, ongoing conversation.


Written by tortsandtots

April 14, 2014 at 8:12 am

Posted in Uncategorized

4 Responses

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  1. Aaaaand now I’m crying. And I totally get it. I say you still write to your momma. I think she still reads your blog.


    April 14, 2014 at 3:08 pm

  2. Jaime, I always thought that you looked a lot like your mother. Now, I know that you are like her, thoughtful, kind, and loving. Talk about her often, for then you can come to grips with your grief. I love you,

    Doris Spoarks

    April 14, 2014 at 7:42 pm

  3. Wonderfully written. I always enjoy your posts because they’re so witty. Although you wrote to your mother please remember your posts make others laugh, too. I pray writing will help you grieve and work through your feelings. You’re an amazing person!


    April 14, 2014 at 8:05 pm

    • Thanks friends. I hope my mom is still reading!


      April 14, 2014 at 8:13 pm

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