Moments

I had a moment today and it took my breath away. What is a moment? It’s a glance, an inhale, a second where a memory is triggered. I was driving to the gym after dropping my kids off at school and I looked into the car in the next lane. A woman sat in the driver’s seat. In that instant, the woman looked so much like my mother that it stopped me cold. She turned her head and the illusion ended, but for one moment I was transported back in time and looking at my mother’s profile.

During the first couple years after my mother’s death, I often had such moments. Now, they are few and far between. It’s always out of the blue. I cry when someone near me wears Chanel #5. I can’t think when I hear a woman laughing in a sexy, throaty voice. My mom had the most beautiful laugh. Or like today, I freeze when I see a particular profile.

If you’ve never lost someone close to you, you have no idea what I’m talking about. It’s not something that happens until you lose that every day contact. When I was younger it was painful to experience such moments. I think I almost enjoyed today’s. Why? Well, it makes me think that my parents are looking down on me. I rarely think of them in my daily life. And such brief glimpses remind me no matter where they are they still think of me sometimes.

Next week, I’m starting a new position. I’ll be moving up in the ranks. I am nervous and excited. I like to think that my mother sent me a little pat on the back today, a reminder that she’s watching and she that she approves.

So for those of you who know about these moments in time, embrace that stinging pain that comes with a sharp memory and focus on the joy that special someone brought into your life.

On Writing

As long as I can remember I have always said I wanted to be a writer. When I was little, I had no idea what being a writer meant. Then I hit middle school and high school, I took literature classes and my first Journalism course. I was hooked. I never wanted to be Lois Lane. I thought that being a reporter meant that I could help people, right the wrongs I saw going on in society around me.

In 1995, I went off to Northeastern University in Boston where I attended the rather prestigious Journalism school. College taught me how to think critically and how to write like a reporter, but I also learned very quickly that it was a male dominated career path. And I began to see the nastier side of the media.

After college I wrote for newspapers dailies, weeklies and even a quarterly journal. I felt more pressured to please advertisers and town managers than to tell the trust or help the little guy. Life issues became more important than the almighty job. I lost my parents, I wanted to focus on marriage and family.

After my children arrived, I stayed home. Days were a whirl of dirty diapers, chasing toddlers and exhaustion. Still, I wrote. Instead of the latest trends in technology, I wrote nutrition and potty training articles for a newsletter.

Fast forward to the present, I am finally working for an independent newspaper with a boss I respect. I feel like we look out for the every day people, not just the elected officials. Last summer, we saw "Newsies" on Broadway. My younger daughter looked at me with respect in her eyes and said, "That's what you do Mom, right?"

My book published in December. Slowly but surely, it's gaining recognition and maybe even a hint of appreciation. Tonight, my older child said, "You're not famous yet Mom, maybe if you wrote something a little happier, less depressing."

I will never be Hemingway, but you know what, I'm ok with that. In my corner of the world, I try to make a difference and writing is my medium.

Parenting

It is a balmy 11 here right now. Winter is in full swing and so is my temper. In the background, I can hear the sound of my children fighting yet again. I find myself wondering what my parents felt or thought when I threw a whopper tantrum. It's one of my most hated moments, a point in time when I have a question, but cannot pick up the phone and get an answer.

My daughters are headed into the teenage years at 9 and 11 they are clearly past the innocence of little girls. I know that we are headed into uncharted waters as parents. I am a little jealous of my girlfriends who can call Mom and ask questions: how do I deal with...., what was I like when...., and what would you do if....

As I look out my window at the frozen landscape, I can remember my Mother telling me so long ago, "Don't just be a brood mare for some man, get a job, do something with your life." I wonder if she too felt her selfness disappear into the monotony of raising children. If she looked at her job as an escape and a way to feel like she was adding something good to the world around her.

I took some of my Mother's advice and I cast some to the wind. I work two or three jobs. My life is often a crazy overlap of teaching, writing, parenting and attending events. But I do understand what she meant. I find myself forgetting who I am. I hear Mommy more than I hear my name. Sure, there are resentful moments, but I find myself feeling maudlin thinking about the day in the not too distant future when my daughters leave home and head into the great big world.

My next goal is promoting my book. Learning to market myself and promote me. You give so much time to your spouse and kids at a certain point you need to take a little for yourself. As for the rest of life, who knows what will be. Right at the moment, I can't look any further than breaking up the next battle between my daughters and longingly gazing out the window wishing for Spring!

Family....

I will be the first person to tell you that you don't get to pick your family. I stay in touch via FB and phone with most of my family, but I don't do weekly phone calls nor do I check up on them too often. I figure if my extended family needs me, they'll let me know.

I have never been close to my Dad's side of the family. I don't know why. They are not bad people. I have loving, cousins, aunts & uncles. Like every other family on the planet we have marriages, births and inevitably deaths.

Recently, I received a note from my aunt. She is 82. The note was a little odd. So, I followed up with some cousins. I asked around about my aunt's health and the state of her world. The most common answer I got was, "It's none of my business but...." or "I don't want to cause any trouble, but...."

I realized that over the years I have felt distanced from the family because of the way we were raised. Other families emote, they share, they have deep conversations. We exchange pleasantries. It is rare for any of us to speak about more than the kids, the weather and the state of world affairs.

All these years, I thought it was just me, but it turns out that everyone in the family feels like the odd man out. Many of my cousins said that they are the last to hear information. While it's nice to know I'm not the only one who feels the distance, it makes me wonder what the future will bring.

I have been on the fence about my New Year's resolution. But I think my resolution will be to work harder on interacting with my relatives. I want my children to understand the value of family and to hear about past mistakes so that we can move forward and not repeat them.