I want a retreat to celebrate life – solo trek to do some soul-searching and reflection.
I had a bad fall almost two years ago that caused a lot of damage to my foot. I have not been able to walk normal since then. I’m hoping that this last surgery is my final step to recovery. I am in a cast right now, but I’m optimistic that by summer-ish I will be back to normal. I want to celebrate walking again. On this “vacation”, I want to walk in the beach sand, walk to shops, to better views, to restaurants….everywhere. I want to walk up and down the beautiful whitewashed heaven-like stairs to celebrate I CAN.
Photo by Ryan Spencer on Unsplash
Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. I was searching for the place my Mom always wanted to spend time in: Santorini. She always said that it was the most beautiful place she had ever been and dreamed of going back. Weird. I’ve prefer NOT to travel in Europe. I’ve had a few trips there, but I so much prefer sitting on a Caribbean beach. Until recently, the idea of taking over 10K steps on a vacation was not what I had in mind – the fewer steps, the better. However, exploring the towns built into the cliffs in the Greek Isles kept nagging at me. I started planning my next imaginary vacation.
I want a break away from everyday life, but yet I want to celebrate life. I want to honor my Mom’s wish to spend time in Santorini. I want to see the beauty of one of the world’s biggest volcanic eruptions created. I want to find the perfect little terrace to view the volcano and the rest of the breathtaking scenery, with a sunset to boot. That is how I picture my Mom enjoying this massive awe-inspiring beauty; basking in the sun, taking in the view, sipping a cocktail, while flipping through the pages of the latest People magazine.
Side note: Since this mania began, I have become increasingly fascinated with Santorini. Here is the best video I found showing how the island was formed. The narration is not in English, but you’ll get the point.
Lots and lots of wants.
So, I take a break from the obsessive AirBnb searching and analyzing Google Images. I open FaceBook to get some updates from my Sis. She’s taken my daughter for the week and sure enough, I get to see my cutie smiling from ear to ear.
Then I scroll down, not too far and see the below post (really?…of all times, right now?).
Watching Your Parent Die is Absolute Hell.
I tear up just seeing this picture. I click on it, read the short article, and it brings me right back to summer two years ago. I break down in a full-blown meltdown which hasn’t happened in months. At first, they happened all the time. As time marched on, the pain lessened. However, it comes back when you least expect it – just as sharp as the first.
My Mom had Chron’s Disease, among other serious ailments that stemmed from the illness. She was also an alcoholic. Had her liver been a healthy one, she may be here today. If she had a healthy mental well-being, she may still be here. If she did, she would have loved herself enough to take care of her health, even when it failed her. Her life could have been extended a little longer. However, all the positivity in the world could not have prevented her eventual decline. She battled Chron’s for over half her life. Ultimately, it wore her down emotionally and physically.
On her birthday in July, my brother, sister and I watched her get loaded into a medevac and flown off to a better facility near Boston. It was heartbreaking and a vision ingrained in me forever. During the four months before her death, she was more often than not on life support. The last time she talked to me was the morning before her final surgery. I miss her asking me “what’s new?” even though I already told her like 30 seconds prior. I would tell her 100 times repeatedly now if I could. I continued visiting her and talking to her, but she was unresponsive.
On October 4th, my husband drove me to the ICU unit for what I knew was my final visit. Her husband had made the unimaginable decision to not continue to keep her alive by machines. I can only imagine how difficult this it was, but it was time. A time you never want to admit is here. Him and my Aunt were there and just as in shock as I was even though we knew this was coming. The nurse took her off life support we saw her die in a matter of minutes. Its was awful in every way.
I think of that moment every day, multiple times a day. I now realize over the years just how important the mother-daughter bond is. I can’t bring her back. I can’t change anything in the past. I can only focus on today – my memories of her, and what warms my heart. I’m grateful of the closeness I had with her. I’m thankful for the closeness I have with my sister and brother. I cherish my relationship with my little family of four. I cherish the bond I have with my own daughter. We say together everyday, “I am beautiful, I am strong, and I am kind, always kind“. I have regular talks with my teenage son and we talk about everything. I am 100% honest with him and I hope he is with me, but he is, after all, a teenager.
My husband has been my rock through the years dealing with my ups and downs. We are both well aware of the importance of metal well-being. What I can do now to honor my Mom is ensure that all of us feel loved, feel secure and feel nurtured. When we don’t it’s OK to say that and accept help. It’s OK not be OK. A common symptom when depressed is an overwhelming feeling of being unloved. In reality, this is not true, but it’s difficult to see this through the sadness.
My Mom was adored unconditionally by her husband, the love of her life her last 16 years. However, I know she craved that feeling her whole life beginning much younger than anyone should. There were many times that she was not OK mentally. I just wish I recognized that sooner than later.
Since my accident and my Mom’s death, I’ve done more of what makes me happy. I try not to let others get the best of me, but I’m still trying. I overthink everything, but have improved. I have a therapist who has made a huge impact on my well-being. What helps me beyond words is writing. I typically don’t write about me personally, but of course, it seeps into any blog post I write. My writing is usually positive (about weddings and such) and encourages brides to be unique and to save money in unconventional ways. Writing is my therapy. I don’t have any false beliefs that my writing is great, but does it really matter? Not at all.
Back to the beginning of my story, I WILL BE sipping that drink on a terrace in Santorini. I see a solo trek in my future. I have never taken a vacation by myself and I think it is long overdue.
Mom: a toast will be made on October 4th in your honor and in mine. I already know my toast, “Here’s to you, Mom: We are beautiful, we are strong, and we are kind, always kind“.
Photo by Ryan Christodoulou on Unsplash
