I spend so much of my life worried about the worst. With that comes the fear that something may happen to me at any given moment, or that each day may be my last. I was listening to Chris and Margot having a tickle fight in her room as I put Fiona down to bed and I thought about going to bed without telling them goodnight but then that sneaking "what if" came into my head and I thought "What if tonight I don't wake up? I would have wanted to tell them goodnight.". I am sure on some level these thoughts are kind of strange, but it does bring some beauty into life if you really think about it. I really never take anything for granted. Every hug, every kiss, every laugh, I soak it all in. When Chris and I disagree about something my first thought is how small these little arguments are when life is so short. Every second he and I get to spend together is so precious and it should be treated as such. When being a parent gets overwhelming I think of how lucky I am to even have these tiny little souls who love me as much as they do and how motherhood is truly a beautiful gift.
Tonight I asked myself "If you knew you were dying and had one dying wish, what would it be?". Things like wanting my daughters and husband to always know how much I loved them came to mind. Wishing I could somehow protect and direct all of them even in my absence. I think really though I would just want to spend one day watching them all enjoy themselves. Hearing Margot laugh; taking her somewhere fun like the beach or the trampoline park and just sitting and watching her have a blast, or watching her do gymnastics and seeing how proud she is of herself, or watching her dance in the living room to her own songs. Letting her have one extra spoon of nutella and hearing her tell me that I am the best mommy ever. Braiding her hair and doing her makeup. Listening to Chris talk about his 3D printer or some other project he is working on. Laughing so hard I can't even breathe over some really dumb joke, or just hearing him chuckle while watching Futurama. I would stay up and watch him play video games and just enjoy his company. I would hold Fiona close and let each snuggle linger. Enjoying each tiny grin. I would hold each of them tight every chance I got that day and let them know I loved them. I would go to bed and hold my husband's hand and wait for Margot to come crawl in and join us and I would go to sleep knowing that nothing could be happier than the time I get to spend with my family.
& Thankfully I can do this every day already. I can cherish every single little thing. I can let them know every chance I get how much they mean to me, and if something ever were to happen to me I can know that there is nothing more I could have ever wanted out of life than our little happy family.
I never wanted to be a mom. It just was not anywhere in my plans. I had an idea of what success I wanted to accomplish in my life and that was my goal. I was studying cellular and molecular biology when I found out I was pregnant. My plan was to pursue my PHD at Duke with a focus on Mycology and Virology. I never sat around and day dreamed of what motherhood was. I didn't even like kids. I wanted to become a scientist. I wanted to live in the city in a small apartment with a poodle. Those were the things I dreamed of. Being a mother just wasn't something that I ever considered.
We are born into this world to parents who love us tremendously, but we grow with a lack of understanding as to how precious we are to our parents. It is not until we become a parent ourselves that we understand any of what being a parent means. No part of my childhood did I ever step back and notice the compassion or concern or pride my parents had for me, it is only now, as a mother myself, that I can see it. It is only as a mother can I see the value in children. The value in the sacrifices parents make for their children. The great joy beyond comprehension that comes with being a parent.
When I became a mother I lost all sense of ego. Suddenly only my daughter's success was important to me. The juxtaposition of those feelings is intense. Nearly 7 years have passed since I experienced it, so I no longer feel capable of putting that sensation into words, but I recall being so perplexed by it for months. Nothing I had ever accomplished could ever be more important than what she will accomplish in her life. I do recall always thinking those questionnaires you receive at each baby check up to check for postpartum depression were silly because there were many questions that read "Do you no longer enjoy things you used to enjoy?" and I would always think "Yes, of course.". What mother who truly loves their child wouldn't answer yes to that question? The things I enjoyed had evolved. I would rather tend to my daughter than spend a night at a bar with friends. In many ways everything had changed for me. My past self had died. Part of you morns that loss.
Motherhood is difficult and never ending. Every moment of your time with them is spent in service. You are mentally and physically exhausted. And even if you are able to have a little me time away a mother is never free of the worries that come with motherhood. Your child is always on your mind. You are always worried about them; are they being cared for properly in your absence? It's something that is not often talked about but the reality of motherhood is that your mind is never truly free and your life is never solely yours anymore. That sensation is also bizarre.
It's all something a college kid could ever understand until it happened. The rollercoaster of emotions in those first few years. It's lonely, but it's also not because you will never be alone again. Throughout all the difficulties it is also so rewarding and with every gummy little smile and met milestone your love grows. Eventually you begin to see the college kid you were in the same foreign light you did motherhood, as it becomes a person you no longer relate to or understand.
The other night Margot came to sit with me in our recliner. She sat behind me while Dante tried to get to her and I spun the chair around back and forth so he couldn't reach her. She laughed and teased him as we spun. Then she started telling jokes. She would move my mouth and say silly things and then I would move her mouth and say silly things. She was laughing so hard at herself and had us laughing too.
At some point I just hugged her so tightly and told her how much I loved her. I told her that one day she will not be spending her nights laughing and joking with us like this, that she will be in her room, too cool for her parents. She always says "No I will not" when I say things like that. That she will always love us and want to play with us, but I know these moments must be cherished.
When Margot started playing by herself in her room with her door closed Chris and I were simultaneously relieved and heart broken. We sat and talked about how independent she was becoming and it made us both cry. It is nice to not have to play with her constantly, but all these moments of separation will get longer and longer and before we know it she will not seek us out anymore. As she grows more independent she will need us less, possibly love us less, but we will always love her just the same as we love her now and desire her company just the same.
Once Margot and I watched what we thought was a nature documentary about cheetahs, but it ended up being about the sacrifices mothers make for their children all across the animal kingdom. In it they followed a mother panda. Female pandas live their entire lives in solitude outside of the time they spend with their newborns. As the baby was learning to do things on its own the mother would scoop it away and try to prevent it from learning, maturing. Once a baby panda learns to climb a tree they are ready to leave their mothers, so each time it tried the mother would bring it down. This resonated with me so heavily. You want your child to lear grow and prosper, but each step they take leads them further from you. Watching them slowly leave is the hardest part of parenting.
I will grieve every milestone she passes which leaves her needing me less, but for now I will enjoy these nights of laughter and cuddles while I have them.
Dallas's death is still something I think of often. I am not sure I will ever forget that phone call from my mother. She called me early one morning and she told me Dallas had been hit by a car while crossing the road and that they were trying to get in touch with his mother. I asked if he was in the hospital, if he would be ok, and she said, as kindly as she could, that she was sure he had passed. I had just seen him. I had just driven up to NC for court that Monday for his DVPO violation. He had been arrested so they gave a new court date. I remember being so resentful over having to make that drive to NC for the court date. He never showed up for them so they would just reschedule and it was a lot of driving for me. I sat in the court room and waited until they called his name. He came up on the tv screen in an orange jump suit. I heard his voice as he told the judge his name and then they asked me to leave the room so he could consult with his attorney. Hearing his voice was hard. I began trembling and couldn't calm myself. They came out and asked me if I was okay letting him off this time for the violations if he did therapy. I said yes. It wasn't necessarily what I wanted but I just wanted to get out of there. I was shaking so bad I was embarrassed. After his passing I kept thinking how if I had said no or pressed for something more that he may have been kept in jail longer and he wouldn't have been killed.
When I had found out about the new court date I was very confused as to why they issued a new date. From what I could tell by his constant messages he had went to Florida to spend some time with his mom and brother. I didn't understand why he came back to NC so quickly and how he got arrested in that time. When I spoke to his mom after his death she said that she had called a bounty hunter on him because she had put forward money for bail that she wanted back and he was picked up from her home and taken to NC. He had nothing when he was picked up, not even his wallet. After the court date with me instead of being released in Lenoir he was sent to Waynesville for a probation violation I believe. They ended up letting him out at midnight, again with nothing to his name. He couldn't get a hotel because he did not have his wallet. He attempted to get help from his mom and brother and even friends but no one was able to assist him. He spent the night in the woods. That night it was raining so he was cold and wet. He had called his mom the following morning afraid he would die from the cold and she told him to go back to town. He may have been on his way back to town when he was struck.
The series of events that lead up to his death were hard to hear. My dad was upset over the way no one was able to help him because if Dallas had called my dad, no matter what had transpired between Dallas and me, my dad would have come and picked him up. My dad's words in the wake of his death were "we weren't friends anymore and he didn't call me. He didn't feel like he could call me." That thought really hurt my dad. The last thing my dad ever said to Dallas hurt him too. The last time my he saw Dallas was outside of court in January when I went to request the DVPO get renewed. Dallas was running late and dad was waiting outside for me. He told him to just leave. Dad told him that we were all done with him and to just move on. Dallas would always say if I left him he wouldn't have anyone. He had people in his life, sure, but he didn't have that someone that would put down everything they were doing to help him out of the many situations he got himself into. My family and I were those people for him. We had even driven to that same city at midnight to get him out of jail a few years prior. Still yet, at a certain point there was only so much you can do for someone who is always getting into trouble and never learning from their mistakes, and he was not our responsibility.
If I had known those last few years would be his last would I have done anything differently though? Those same thoughts that haunted my dad in the wake of Dallas's death haunted me too. I know it was in the best interest of both me and Margot. I know as the threats grew and his antics became more and more dangerous that I had to do what was necessary to keep her safe, but I couldn't help but feel guilty. I felt like I had kept her away from him. I felt like I had abandoned him. He had a way of making you feel responsible for him. I really did try to keep him a part of her life. The last time she saw him was at a parade in Hudson. He asked if we would meet him there so he could see her and we did. After the parade was over he asked me for a ride to his truck, but then refused to get out of my car. I think about that day so often and how he could have been a happy part of her life, but he had to ruin everything. I think about him kneeling down and picking up candy for her during the parade, but then threatening me for hours in my car after. Ironically it was a result of his threats that lead to me getting the DVPO that kept him permanently away from us. Dallas would send door dash meals to my parents' house to see if I was there. When my parents began refusing the meals he began sending an officer to do wellness checks on me. One of the officers he sent sat me down and told me what I needed to do to stop it ,get a DVPO.
I did hate that the last time I saw him was in a court room on a tv. The last time he saw me, as far as I know, was in a court room, on a different day, as I was telling the officers that he had arrest warrants and they arrested him. He always forgave me though. He wrote me that same night when he was released after I pushed for him to be arrested. When I was told he had passed I did wish that somewhere in the past two years I could have spoken to him calmly. Without all the chaos that had become his personality or the constant threats he would give. I wished I could have told him that I did care for him, but not in the way he wanted me to. That I only ever wanted the best for him. He had such talents. Somewhere inside of him he had a lot of love to give too. He just threw everything away that was good about himself to drugs and alcohol. I wished more than anything that he could have straightened his life out. I also think a lot about what he was thinking about in those last few minutes of life. Did he think about me? Margot?
The weight of the news that he had passed was indescribable. My mind was spinning with thoughts, memories, regrets. I thought about the time we drove on the beach at Daytona and played in the water and he said it was the happiest he had ever seen me, and truly I was happy. We got sand all in the car. I thought about the time he took parts out of my car so I couldn't escape him. How horrible he could be to me at times. I thought about the way he would tell me how he was jealous of my brother Carl, and how Carl could have any girl he ever wanted. I thought about how we used to play chess and watch pbs with an antenna because we were too poor for internet. He always beat me at chess. I thought about the time he wanted to take Carl out to drink for his birthday and then spent all of our money on alcohol for himself that night. I went to pick them up but he didn't want to come, then 30 minutes later he called me because he was lost and Carl and I had to search for him, then carry him from a bench, and shove him in a car at Folly Beach at 2 a.m. because he was blacked out drunk. He threw up all in my car that night. I thought about how happy he was every Christmas and birthday to receive literally anything at all. I never had much money to spend on his gifts but he was always so happy over any little thing I bought him. I remember him shaking a box that had a tool in it he wanted and how his face just lit up and his mouth dropped. Or how I got him a lunch box from Walmart one year and he bragged about how it was the best lunch box ever. One year he wanted a big knife to wear on his belt so I got him a knife for his birthday and he wore it everywhere he went. It was so obnoxious but it made him happy. I thought about how the last year we were still communicating he asked me if I got him anything for his birthday but I was so mad at him those days that I had not. I wished I had bought him something. I thought about the last time I really enjoyed spending time with him, when we drove the globe and got lost on those winding back roads. We stopped at a gas station before we started the trip and he got a pickled egg and Margot was in her pajamas and she rode one of those mechanical horses. Margot still remembered that pickled egg years later when we went into a gas station and she pointed to one and said "like my old daddy". I thought about all the car rides we took together. The time I shaved off all of his dreads. When we drove to Asheville and ate astronaut ice cream. The way he would hold a cigarette. How he was always pacing around never sitting still. The good, the bad, the memories just spinning. We spent so many years in each other's lives and had so many memories.
As I write this it has been a few years now since he has passed. Margot doesn't remember him well, but she talks about him from time to time or asks me questions about him. She is too young to know the truth about some of what he put me through, so I just tell her the good. I sometimes think that his life was headed to that point of addiction where a person becomes homeless and loses their mind. I will see someone drunk on the side of a gas station begging for money and think how in a few years time that could have been Dallas. I am glad Margot will never see him like that and that the memories I can share with her can all be good. My grandmother said he was like a lost lamb and god was bringing him home. I think everyone who knew Dallas could understand this thought. He really was lost.
His friend told me that he had taken some drugs while in the jail the night before he was killed. He used to say to me that he did not want to grow old. He always wanted to die young. He did not want to be an old man. If nothing else he got that wish and maybe he didn't feel anything at all. His entire passing reminds me of Ode on a Grecian Urn, forever young, frozen in memory.
"Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
Ode on a Grecian Urn
Tonight was the hardest thing I have experienced as a parent. That may be an exaggeration, but it certainly feels that way now. Margot has been in love with cats as far back as I can remember. When she was born I wanted her to like bunnies. I had bought her a few bunny things and her first birthday was bunny themed, but she had other plans. When we lived alone my brother had found a cat and I decided to pick it up for her. Margot may have been 3 years old, maybe younger, but she loved it. I remember the first night with that cat Margot stayed up all night long just watching it sleep while we were all three in bed. When we moved in with my parents right before we moved to South Carolina my mom made that cat an outside cat and eventually it was no longer with us.
Fast forward 3 years or so; No change in her obsession with cats. At school it is one of the only things she writes about. She is constantly drawing cats on everything. Chris and I decided we would get Margot a cat. We brought one home one week while Margot was spending the week with my mother. We wanted to make sure our dog would be good with the cat and we wanted to make sure Chris wasn't allergic before introducing the idea to Margot. Our dog was excited but gentle and at the end of the week we decided to keep the cat. Unfortunately we regretted that decision more and more as the months went by. We have leather furniture that was getting scratched up. The cat was always getting into some sort of mischief. She was a kitten and it is expected, but it was hard to tolerate. Changing the litter box became such an unwanted chore. The last straw for me was having to keep the cat out of the bassinet for Fiona. I could hear her jump into it in my sleep some nights and when I would pull the sheets from myself to get out of bed she would aggressively jump out. Chris and I talked about how if a baby was in there the simple act of trying to get the cat out of the bassinet would result in the baby getting scratched.
We decided to put the cat outside. Margot would still be able to see it when she wanted and there would be no fears of the cat jumping on the baby and the furniture would no longer get scratched up. We thought this would be perfect, but the cat had other ideas. Most of the day she would sit and scratch at the door. She would move from the back door to the front door meowing and trying to get in. She would even climb the front door and peer in through the window at the top of the door. The foam weather stripping around the doors was getting scratched up and ruined from her constant scratching. If you opened the door she would dart in. She wasn't happy outside and she wasn't getting used to it. We were faced with a hard decision, but we knew she needed a new home. We didn't want to break Margot's heart though so we just put this in the back of our mind.
One day Margot went outside to jump on the trampoline and the cat joined her on the trampoline. The cat ended up scratching Margot a few times which hurt her feelings. Margot came in and said she wanted to get rid of the cat and get a nice cat or a puppy. This was our chance. I decided to list her places on Facebook for people who were looking for a new pet. Eventually someone got in touch with me about her. They said they had just lost their cat of 13 years and were looking for a replacement. Margot had already said she was ready to get rid of it so I told the lady she was welcome to take her. We spoke with Margot before we left to meet the lady about what was happening. She was sad but the promise of getting a new cat or dog was somewhat exciting. I really thought including her in this process was important and beneficial. As we got in the car and drove closer to the meeting spot Margot grew more and more upset. She said she would miss the cat. She worried she would not get another cat. She worried the cat would miss her. When we finally made it to the meeting place Margot hugged midnight and kissed her over and over. When the lady arrived Chris handed her midnight through the window. We rolled the window up and Margot lost it. I am not sure I have ever heard that cry from her. Margot cries all the time over everything, but this was authentic, it was pure sadness. She was heartbroken in a way that I am not sure she has ever experienced before. Chris said it made him cry. I just wanted to get to the back seat to hold her. I can't get the sound of her cry out of my head.
There are times as a parent where you have to make a decision that makes you feel guilty forever and this is going to be one of those moments. I felt bad for putting her through that. I felt bad about ever getting the cat. It didn't feel fair. We got burger king and played Roblox when we got home. It's possible she already forgot about the cat, but Chris and I will never forget this night.
We as humans are all relatively similar. Life is relatively short and insignificant. There are few things that set each person apart from the next or make a life well spent. For me knowledge is one of those things. I feel like it is our duty as a human race to take the knowledge we currently have and further it for the next generation. I will always have an appreciation for those with a drive to learn. I love seeing what people are passionate about and learning from those around me. I would love to be able to pass down any and everything I can learn in my lifetime to our daughters.
Recently Chris and I had to replace our HVAC system, and the entire process made me so grateful for the knowledge of those who surround us. We were initially quoted something like $9,500 to have ours replaced but with the help of our friends and family we were able to do it ourselves for $4,500. Chris's friend Jeremy was the one who told us what unit would work with our home. My dad had installed HVACS with his father, so he agreed to come down and help us put it in. He basically installed the entire thing himself with Chris watching and learning. Chris's dad came over to help as well. Jerry is good about doing things properly, in the most safe and effective way, and helped Chris prepare the attic for the HVAC as well as help get the unit into the attic. (Chris actually hadn't measured the hole to the attic so they had to take the ladder off and moulding to get it to fit). We then had a local HVAC company come out and inspect the unit before we actually turned it on and he said "you should be impressed by your husband, he did a good job up there." and Chris told him it was mainly my dad who did the instillation.
We couldn't have done any of that without the help of those around us and it just made me think of how truly valuable knowledge is and how in our entire lifetimes we may not gather half of what some of those around us know. I then started to think about the vast amount of knowledge some people have acquired in their lifetimes. I think often of my grandfather, Rick, who seems to know how to do anything. You can look around his property and see his sawmill, remnants of his cabinet making, obviously the paving stuff, old restored cars, the house he built, the pool he dug and installed; or, you can go to one of the many homes he has renovated and see his skills in construction. I remember helping him with things like roofing for some extra cash as a teenager. My dad says that my grandfather's grandfather had a wide array of skills too. He apparently was a mayor of a town and could make furniture by hand and would go so far as to stain it naturally with actual walnuts or whatever people originally used as stains. My dad also has such an eclectic array of skills; he can look at a tree and identify it, can wire up a breaker box, can mechanic, can install an HVAC, can drive heavy machinery, can build just about anything, and can give you a guided tour of Lenoir and its surrounding area with facts about things you never knew, among other skills. When my dad came over to help me remodel my backyard when I lived in NC I was amazed at how well he could drive a bobcat. There were so many moments I thought he was going to fall off a hill or flip that thing over. It almost seemed like an extension of himself. Chris's parents also have amazing skills that they have acquired in their life. And it doesn't stop at just our family. So many of our friends are remarkable as well. Chris and I are so fortunate to have been exposed to and able to benefit from, both recently as we build things around our home and as we were growing up by our families, all of this knowledge.
Today Chris and I were talking about the world, as we tend to. We were talking about how some people spend so much of their life just trying to argue with others (especially on the internet). Like there is a drive to just be right all the time. There are also some with a drive to constantly be better than others. We spoke about the harms of such habits; That it may cause one to somewhat hide much of their life for fear of being proven wrong or being called out. It causes some to become closed minded and leaves them constantly defensive. It can even become a taxing task to keep up with the image they want to portray. This got us talking about the importance of having a little humility in life. I called it "announcing your failures".
I think having humility towards yourself is such an important part of life. Being able to laugh at yourself. Being able to let go of trying to hide the imperfections and to let go of needing to be better than anyone. There is no value in such an attitude towards life. There is nothing rewarding about that behavior, only stress and pain. I laugh at myself all the time. I immediately tell someone about whatever dumb thing I messed up. I admit when I do something wrong. I give myself the space to be imperfect. Doing this is also interwoven in the ability to truly be yourself. Chris is the same way. Not having to compare yourself to others or compete with others, to just be able to be yourself free of those specific influences.
Also, people who are unapologetically themselves are so beneficial to society. People who are openly vulnerable become examples allowing others to be gentler to themselves during their own failures. There really is such value in that. Hearing that someone also failed at something you failed at makes that failure seem more human. Life is chaos. Some people treat it like it's way more serious than it is. No one really knows what they are doing. There is no right or wrong path to follow, they all lead the same place at the end. We are often harder on ourselves than we should be. Some are harder on others than they should be. Everyone could spend more time announcing your failures.
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