Category: Family & Friends

Categories
Family & Friends losing a parent

One Month Later

It occurred to me yesterday that today is the day my mom has been gone for a month.  Some days it seems like this still isn’t real.  And then there are days where it is all too real. 

Last week my sister’s husband, Kevin, and our friend, who was friends with my mom too, went to Minnesota to pack up her house for us.   Kevin said he didn’t want us to have to go through her things-it would be way too difficult.  So they flew out there, packed everything up, and drove back to Colorado.  We are so grateful to them for doing that for us.  Her things arrived at my house last week.  My brother Jeff, and my dad came up to help unpack the truck, but it was so difficult.   

I can’t tell myself she really busy at work, and that’s why she hasn’t called, when I saw all her things she owned in life- some of it she still had from when I was a little girl, in the back of a U-Haul.   

There was one picture she had holding my brother when he was a baby- she was 21, young, free, and beautiful, as a new mother.  I found it years ago in really bad shape and had it restored professionally for her as a Mother’s Day gift.  I wanted to find that picture last night.  I opened all the boxes that were labeled pictures, and found so many pictures she had of us.  Pictures from when we were babies up to just a few months ago.  I wanted to find that picture, because I feel like part of her gets a bit more distant everyday, and there is nothing I can do to stop that.  Seeing that picture would have helped. 

I didn’t find it last night, but I know it is there among her things somewhere. In some box, wrapped in tissue paper.  Her life.  Our life.  Our memories of her are in boxes now.  That is all we have left of her.  It isn’t nearly enough, but it is all we have.  When I saw the box with all our old family and childhood picture books, I felt a sense of relief.  The years she spent creating those for us, we have them now.  We will always have a piece of her and our history with those pictures. 

I drive by the cemetery on my way to work.  I had planned to stop today, but it snowed a foot of snow last night, and I would not have been able to find her grave.  I feel bad  I couldn’t “do” something today and at the very least go to her grave. 

I mentioned in a previous post one of her favorite songs was Somewhere Over the Rainbow, and it was sung at her service.  One of my friends posted a link to a new version of the song she had heard.  I think it is neat that happened.  It reminded me to keep looking for my mom in small things.  Another friend sent me a link a few weeks ago I had forgotten about until now.  It was to another version of Somewhere Over the Rainbow.  My mom would have loved this version, and the pictures. 

I miss and love you, Mom.   

Categories
Activities Family & Friends Running

My 20 Mile Running Week

This past week, I ran 20 miles!  If someone had told me in September, when I started running for one race,  I’d run 20 miles -ever- I would have laughed!

I ran two times this week under five miles, once at 6.2 miles (a 10K distance) and I ran the longest distance I have ever run, at 8 miles.  I was really happy with the 10K distance run.  My time on that was 1:01.  I ran this outside in a lot of mud at a park.  At first I didn’t want to get mud all over me, but after a mile I figured why not, and had fun running through the muck.  I have been wondering if I am going to be able to run my first 10K, the Bolder Boulder, in May sub 68 minutes, and it gave me a lot of confidence today that I will be able to.   

Physically, I’m a little tired but not as much as I thought I would be.  After Ryan was born, I had some funky hip pain that lasted for about 6 months.  I had an MRI done on it, and the doctor told me sometimes after pregnancy the muscles and ligaments never quite get back to “normal.”  He predicted the pain would go away, and few weeks later it did.  However, when I was running the 8 miles, I felt that exact same pain start.  I did a few stretches and used the foam roller on the spot and that seemed to help, but I still feel it slightly.  I am hoping it is a “running” pain and it will work itself out, as I keep running longer distances. 

This week I also got a Garmin Forerunner 405.  I used it today for the first time, and I think I am in love.  For the first time, I can see how fast I’m running each mile, my pacing, and I don’t have to worry about knowing the distances ahead of time.  Today I ran my fastest mile in mile 5, which was kind of a surprise for me.  I can download all the information to my computer to keep better track of my workouts.  I am going to be reviewing it shortly, after I have used it more. 

I am going to keep increasing my distances every week.   From what I have read, usually it is not recommended to increase distance by more than 10% at a time to avoid injuries.  I am really happy I had such a productive running week, and am hoping it will all pay off in April.  My dad has been training to run in a 5K with me, and we are going to do one mid-April.  I am so proud of how hard he has been working, and I know he will do great.  I am going to go for my personal best time for a 5K so that means under 27 minutes. 

This next month, I am going to run farther, run a little harder, and run a little faster.  I think if I do these things, I’ll be able to reach my goal.  I reached one this week I never imagined myself reaching, and it is just the start. 

Don’t bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors.
Try to be better than yourself.
–William Faulkner

Categories
Family & Friends losing a parent Running

Runnin’ of the Green Race

I kept my promise to my mom, and ran in my first 7K (4.4 miles) race.  It was the Runnin’ of the Green in Denver.

I was going to run in this race with my friend, Alison, but sadly her mother-in-law passed away recently, and she hasn’t been able to train for it.  

I arrived downtown about half an hour before the race started, and it was PACKED.  I couldn’t even find the registration booths to pick up my bib and timing chip.  I could barely make my way through the crowd.  I finally found the line; a full city block and a half away.  There was no way I was going to be starting the race at 10 AM.  I figured I’d be lucky to get up to the booth by 11. 

After my last timing fiasco, I was happy to hear the announcer tell the crowd several times the timing chips are not activated until you cross the starting line.  A few minutes later they announced the entire race had been sold out, and if you hadn’t preregistered, there was no more space for runners.  That cleared out some people and lines collapsed.  I walked and made my way to the booth, and only had to wait for about five minutes.  They were announcing it was time to start when I put my timing chip on my shoe.

It was so crowded though!  The race was not started in waves, and really should have been.  I waited about 10 minutes until they said it was time for the walkers to line up before I started.  I hit the start on my watch, and off I went.  The morning had been sunny, and I usually get hot when I run. I wore my capri length running tights and a jacket. I was so glad I had thought to bring my gloves and hat, even though I didn’t think I would need them.  The day before, it was 60!  I think at race time it was in the 30’s, and it was windy.  I definitely needed them!

There were a lot of people walking right off the bat.  There were lots of strollers, dogs, and just a lot of people.  I didn’t start out on my normal pace, because I couldn’t.  I had to watch out for people.  As we ran out of downtown and across I-25, there were two big hills we were running down.  I knew we would be running UP these at the end of the race. I thought back to the Oatmeal 5K when the hills killed me at the end.  These hills were twice that size, but I have been doing the work, and I was actually somewhat excited to see how I would manage them at the end of the race.

As I ran down the hills, I broke away from the mob of people a bit, and I just felt free for a few moments.  I got tears in my eyes- I was thinking about my mom.  It just overwhelmed me in the moment.  I was only about a mile into the race, and knew I had a lot of work to do, so got myself focused again and started thinking about my pacing and breathing. 

I loved the course.  There were some flat parts, and some smaller hills.  It was challenging without being a killer course.  I wish I could say I completely broke away and found that perfect pacing, but I didn’t.  There was just too many people for me.  Every time I started to speed up, someone would step in front of me, or a stroller would stop, and everyone would have to adjust. There was no room to run really like I wanted to. 

As I got back to the section where the big hills were, I figured there was about a mile and a half left. I had way more energy than usual because I had not been running as fast as I normally do.  I thought about running conservatively up the hills, or trying to go a bit faster.  I opted for a little faster.  I sped up, and was kind of shocked when I reached the top of the second one.  I wasn’t out of breath, and wasn’t tired at all. 

I slowed down a little, because there is nothing I hate more than running out of steam right at the end. I like to finish strong. I held myself back until the final half mile, and was ready to sprint, but found out I couldn’t.  There were still too many people, and the streets were narrower now that we were back in downtown.  I tried running around as many people as I could, but it didn’t feel like I was really running- more like maneuvering. 

I finally saw the finish line and figured there was no point in sprinting.  I would have run into people if I did.  I thought of my mom again, and silently told her I was a few seconds away from finishing what I promised her I would do.  I touched her bracelet she wore, that I have been wearing since she passed away.   As I got to the finish line, it was bogged down by people, walking across, so I had to wait for them to walk across, so I could  run across.  Kind of crazy.

I looked down at my watch and it said three minutes!  I knew that wasn’t right and obviously my watch got reset somehow.  I was going to have to wait for the official results.  I decided right then and there I was done with the watch, and not knowing my times, distances, and splits.  (More on that in a future blog post)

I had to wait for someone to cut the timing chip off my shoe, and by the time that happened and I saw the official clock it said 53 minutes.  I figured my time was probably about 45 minutes. It was getting really cold and windy. I found a few running friends from Daily Mile and chatted a bit with them.  I drank some water and waited in the longest line ever for some soup, but it was good.  It had started snowing, and I was freezing, so it was time to go. 

The parking lot was nearly empty when I got to my car, and the snow was coming down. It seemed like another world, being so crammed into so many people while running, and not even an hour later, being in such a wide space alone.  

I turned the heat on and sat in the car for a minute, trying to get warm.  I touched my mom’s bracelet again.  It occurred to me for the first time after a race, she wasn’t going to be calling me to see how I did.  But as I watched the snow fall on Union Station, I felt like she already knew. Sometimes words aren’t necessary. 

Results

Time: 41:12

Age Group Place: 21 out of 74

Division Place: 240 out of 918

Gender Place: 536 out of 2189

Overall Place: 2436 out of 3832

Categories
Family & Friends losing a parent Running

Running and My Promise

Since I’ve started running, I notice time a lot more now.  Minutes, seconds, tenth of seconds. 

It’s been two weeks.  Two weeks, one day, sixteen hours, and twenty minutes to be exact since my mom died.  At times it feels like I just talked to her yesterday, and at other times it seems like it was years ago.  At times things seem hazy- they are familiar but not quite the same anymore.  There are times everything feels “normal” and then something reminds me of her- a song, a book, and the haze settles back in. 

Staying busy helps.  Being with my children, family, and friends help. Being at work helps.  But the loss is always there, and always will be.  Accepting this, I think, is the first step in moving on. 

Last fall I was suffering from shin splints that weren’t healing, and I was thinking about quitting running.  After a lot of thought, and some great advice, I decided to keep running.  I told my mom I had been contemplating stopping, but I wasn’t going to.  She didn’t even hesitate- she told me “don’t stop running.  You love it.”  Point blank-no discussion.  She knew me well.  She called me every week after that to see how running was going.  She called me after every race to see how I had done. 

On the last day before she fell unconscious, she asked me if I was going to keep running.  I told her “yes,” and she smiled.  I got in her bed with her and rested my head on her shoulder. 

She asked me what the next race was, and I told her I was planning on a 7K race (4.3 miles) on March 14th.  She said “good.”  Then she asked what the next one was.  And the next one, and the next one. She asked me what my goals for running are.  She knew I like to plan things.  🙂  She stroked my arm for a few seconds and told me, “Don’t quit.  Don’t you dare quit.  You are so strong, you don’t even know.  Running shows you how strong you really are.  Keep going Heather.”  I promised her I would.  She closed her eyes then to get some rest.   

In the moment, I took that to mean she only meant running.  But since I have thought about it, she meant it in the context of my life too. 

I haven’t felt much like running in two weeks, one day, sixteen hours, and twenty minutes.  But I have. Last week I ran fifteen miles- the most I have ever ran in a week.  It has helped- my mom was right.  When I have been running the haze is gone, and my new sense of normal doesn’t hurt as much.  It is peaceful. 

So on Sunday, I will be running in my first 7K race. It is the Running of the Green race through downtown Denver, and it is a huge fun, party atmosphere run to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day.  It will be fun race to run in.  But I’m not running the race to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, or to party. 

I’m running in it because I promised.

Categories
Family & Friends losing a parent Mothering

My Mom’s Memorial Service

My mom’s (Linda- “Linnie”) memorial service was held on Saturday.  The day was sunny, cool, and a bit breezy.  It was the kind of day my mom would have loved, especially with the Flatiron Mountains of Boulder as the backdrop.  My mom’s older brother, John, passed away in 1952, when he was just seven, and is buried in Boulder.  My mom wanted to be laid to rest with him, and we were very happy we could carry out this last request for her.

 My siblings, Jeff, Mara, Vanessa, and I, were very touched by all the people who attended.  From our bosses and co-workers, to old friends who remembered my mom when we had all been children.  Two of our friends are members of a choir, and they organized some members to sing.  They sang one of my mom’s favorite songs, Somewhere Over the Rainbow. 

 My cousins, Mary and Emily, along with their dad, Mike, read some quotes, and thoughts.  My aunt, Laura, and friend, Christina, read two touching letters from two of my mom’s friends in Minnesota.  My siblings and I all spoke briefly about my mom, and we found out that was harder and more emotional than we thought it would be.  I gained a new perspective though on my mom from hearing what my brother and sisters, and others remembered about her.   

The choir sang another song while my mom’s three grandchildren, Ryan, Cole, and Maelin, each put a rose on John’s gravestone to symbolize their grandmother’s wish, and also how she will live on in them.   

After everyone had left the service, my siblings and I, watched as the interment took place.  It was simple, and it was final.  

We held a reception afterwards at Laura’s house, and it was so nice to see more friends who couldn’t attend the service.  They laughed, cried, listened, and shared memories with us.  I know I speak for my family, in thanking everyone who has supported us through the loss of our mother.  We appreciate all the condolences, prayers, cards, flowers, plants, notes, and well-wishes. It has made a very difficult time a bit easier. 

I have never lost any one so close to me before.  Like most people, I’ve had some hard situations in life, but those seem to cease in comparison to this.  My favorite time of the day now is the first three seconds I wake up in the morning.  Because I don’t remember for those few seconds she is gone.  

During the time I had with her in Minnesota,  I felt like I was forgetting to tell or ask her something.  I couldn’t shake that feeling, and yesterday I realized what it was that I never got to ask her: my mom lost her mom when she was 16.  I keep finding myself wanting to call my mom and ask her advice- how do you get through this? How do you move on after your mother dies?

For the first time ever in my life, I am going to have to figure this one out without her.  

Below is what I spoke at my mother’s service: 

Thinking about my mom, it is hard to narrow down her life, but I remember her always telling me, “you will never know how much I love you, until you have your own children.”  When I was a little girl and heard this, I didn’t understand.  When I was a teenager and she told me this, I rolled my eyes and said sarcastically, “whatever moth-errr”  When I was in my 20’s, and heard this, I thought it was sweet, and when I was in my 30’s and had my own children, I finally understood the magnitude of this simple sentence I had been told my entire life.  I also realized how true her statement was. 

My mom told me about ten years ago, she had regrets in her life, and wished she could have done some things differently.  But she said in her clear, strong, voice that having us- her children- was the only completely perfect thing she had ever done.  She told me we were the best things to ever happen to her.  Then she added, “you’ll never know how much I love you, until you have your own children.” 

During our last days together, I thought about all the times she stayed up with me when I was sick, or was there when I needed to talk, and all the other millions of things a mother does over a lifetime.  I remember she helped me get my first job- at McDonald’s- I was too shy to call the manager back to check on my application, maybe I knew something she didn’t, but she called for me and I got the job.  She was the first person I called after my sons were born, and the one person I could call at 3AM when I had a screaming, sleepless baby up, for advice.  I’ve watched her incredible strength, and determination and her mistakes and downfalls.   My mother taught me how to live, and how not to live. She wasn’t just my mother- she was my friend too. 

I was able to be with my mother in her final days, hours, and moments, and it was a gift.  My mom was there when I took my first breath, and I was there holding her hand, when she took her last one.  Her life is complete and the circle ends where it began- with us, her children. 

I told my mom in our last conversation, she had been right about her statement, she smiled and she also added “I will love you forever.”  

I believe she will and I have started to tell my own children, Ryan and Cole, “you will never know how much I love you, until you have your own children.”  They look at me and smile now when I say this.  They will roll their eyes at me in a few short years when I tell them this.  They don’t understand now, but one day they will.  That will be the legacy of my mother that lives on in her children and grandchildren.  Love. 

My mom and I- 1998