{"id":4929,"date":"2019-05-10T15:30:38","date_gmt":"2019-05-10T22:30:38","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/?p=4929"},"modified":"2019-05-10T15:30:52","modified_gmt":"2019-05-10T22:30:52","slug":"may-is-for","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/?p=4929","title":{"rendered":"May is for …"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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i know that I am doing alright<\/em> when conversations of Mother’s Day go on for a week or more and I realize one day that not once did i couple that thought with my own mother .. estranged for some 10 years now.\u00a0 (That’s more than five million minutes, cause you know I said it took me a while to remember, I didn’t say that I went HAM on the math once it crossed my mind.)

Each of my daughters have talked about stopping to see their grandmother on separate trips they are planning to that neck of the woods.\u00a0 I trust they will be welcomed with open arms and all of her love.\u00a0 Her absence has never been about not loving them, as much as her own illness and how her coping mechanisms didn’t coexist with our existence. <\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

And as a decade of dust settles on the story of missing mom, I am present to how grateful I am for the last seven plus years that I have been sharing my life with the redneck who loves me.\u00a0 The only southern man<\/a> I knew growing up was on a vinyl record.\u00a0 Mom was never much fond of my husbands, though I don’t think she was any fonder of any of the four men who took her hand.\u00a0 But I’m quite sure, she would not have approved<\/em> of the Kentucky jack of all trades.\u00a0 The word uncouth comes to mind, because Mom was quick with her disdain of common.\u00a0 She hated my patchwork slip covers and never could understand why I didn’t wear designer clothes.\u00a0 Which is funny, because her Fitigues <\/a>looked like they came from a second hand store.

No she wouldn’t care for any part of my life now.\u00a0 Not my multigen home filled with love and laughter.\u00a0 Not the fact that i don’t leave the house because I can’t cope with this illness at large.\u00a0 Not the over sexualized avatars and the virtual worlds that I call home.\u00a0 To be sure, there is so much of who I am that I would find it hard to freely be had she been with me back then.\u00a0 Now of course, I’m solid and sold on my choices and proud of the life I maintain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And in truth there are many more facets of our diamond in the rough edges of a chronically ill life that she would simply adore .. like our cooking.\u00a0 Mom loves good vegetarian food, and gosh she loved butter.\u00a0 She would enjoy all of our meals, to be certain.\u00a0 She would also support our politics and have wonderful historical antidotes on feminism through her mid-century modern mind to add to the conversation.\u00a0 Mom would revel in her grandchildren, seeing herself no doubt in each of their proudest accomplishments.\u00a0 She would tell them they are doing amazing, everyday.\u00a0 Her great grandsons of course would make her well up in tears.\u00a0 She was always most wonderful with little babies and so very patient with my kids when they were toddlers.\u00a0 She would understand our physical pains, because she shares them and she’d encourage us all to do all we could do, but to balance that with moments of rest.\u00a0 She had spoon theory down before it was a thing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mom knows that I know that she loves me.\u00a0 That was how I was raised.\u00a0 I know that she knows that I love her too, because that is what we were all about regardless of distance time or space.\u00a0 On this mother’s day then, I get to embrace all of her gifts and share the best of them with my family.\u00a0 I am Mom, I am\u00a0 broken and it’s beautiful<\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

i know that I am doing alright when conversations of Mother’s Day go on for<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"categories":[12],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4929","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-dharma"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4929","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4929"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4929\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4936,"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4929\/revisions\/4936"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4929"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4929"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4929"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}