18 April 2014

Yep, I blew it ... again

Someone come get my Mommy card.
Today's Good Friday. The day's name puzzles me still. I get that it's good Christ died for me. Christ dying on the cross for me and YOU is crucial to what I believe. But calling the day Christ died good feels wrong. 
So, yes, it's Good Friday.
Or, from my corner, it's "I didn't mail the Easter care packages to our college girls yet and now it's officially too late." They aren't going to get a lovely, fun, yummy and full of goodies package from me.
It was the Caregiver's idea to write this on my wrists.

They weren't planning to come home for Easter. The 20-year-old is at Auburn University (War Eagle!) and will be in Atlanta with some sorority sisters. The 19-year-old is at Lynchburg College (it's a great day to be a Hornet!) and will be in D.C. with her roommate. 
I love it when all our kids are home. It happens rarely now. These two are so far out the proverbial door only their heels are still inside.
They will both have a nice Easter and a fun weekend. But since they aren't going to be home, I've been planning to send them each a box filled with chocolate bunnies, Peeps and peanut butter eggs. And other things college girls need. Toothpaste, shampoo, an ankle brace, pictures drawn by the littlest sister, etc.
Now it's too late. It's Good Friday. It's not going to happen. I haven't even bought anything.

Damn cancer.

Yes, I blame the cancer. CML (chronic myelogenous leukemia) has messed everything up. It's taken my energy, a lot of our money and my ability to think clearly (chemo brain is real). I can't do what I want to do and it pisses me off. I already ask for - and get - help from all angles. But making Easter packages for our college girls is something I wanted to do. It's important that I pick things out. That I pack the box. That I put my love into the box.
I thought I could get it done.
I was wrong.
And now I blew it. It's too late.
The girls? They'll be mad that I'm feeling badly about not sending their boxes. They'll tell me "it's OK" and "isn't what really matters."
It's not like they will be sitting alone in their dorm rocking in the corner because their mommy didn't send them an Easter package.
They are awesome and I love them.
They'll get their boxes ... eventually. But I'm bummed I didn't get it done for Easter.
Christ at the cross is all about forgiveness. Christ will always comfort and forgive when we ask.
Why can't I forgive myself?


2 comments:

  1. Love your site...and in answer to why you can't forgive yourself? First and foremost it's called being a "MOM" and boy we are our worst enemies at forgiving ourselves, aren't we? Everyone will forgive you but YOU, aren't we lucky, NOT!!

    It will be 15 yrs. for me on May 3rd and my body is chemo ravished from head to toe and u know I will forget just about anything at anytime but I will never forget that day, even to what I was wearing but with all of what you say and I say about the past 7 yrs. or 15 yrs....we are still here to say it, to forget it and to still not forgive ourselves for every little thing but thank God our loved ones will still forgive us...so this Easter lets try and forgive ourselves and enjoy the day...I will be with my 5 very handsome, awesome grandson's 6 and under and I have no time but to smile & get busy playing..I never thought I would see 1 of them let alone 5 of them, so I have no business feeling sorry, they just want to love me and play...I can feel sorry when I hit the bed at the end of the day, happy but exhausted from head to toe, so I give God a break for a while and enjoy what I never ever thought I would have!!! LOL!!

    So I wish u and your family a very Happy Easter and so look forward to following your blog, its awesome and so are you my CML Sister, fighting the fight...God Bless, Susan Carrow

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    Replies
    1. Susan,
      15 years? That's fantastic! Good for you! You are an inspiration to me. And you nailed it ... We are still here to say it and forget it and not forgive ourselves and especially to thank God!
      Blessings and hugs to you, CML Sister.
      Patti

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