A Barrel of Nelsons

So today is that day. Mother’s Day.

I just sent e-cards to my mom and Sara. Mom got a Maxine-based one since Maxine is her “thing.” And she got a cute cat one from the “Grandkitties.” Sara got a kitchen based one.

I’m going to call my grandma later, because not only is today Mother’s Day, tomorrow she turns 80.

I’m not going to church today. It just wouldn’t do me any good.

Baby I, V’s baby and A&A’s baby, is getting baptized today. I’ve gotten to see him a couple times in the past few weeks. Once when one of his mom’s had to come in and do something at the church, she left him in my office so she could move some stuff and I just watched him sleep while I folded some papers. Then last week A&A came in for the pre-baptism appointment and I saw him again. He’s growing so fast.

I’ve already said a little silent prayer for V this morning. I don’t know how she’s feeling about this all, but I wish her strength and some measure of peace today. Even if it’s just a single moment, everyone needs a little peace in their turmoil. I thought about sending her a card, anonymously, but I didn’t want to intrude and I’ve really never met her, nor do I know her specifics. But I thought about it, and I feel a bit crummy that I didn’t.

—

So I’m about to do something crazy for Mother’s Day. I’m sucking it up and writing S. See below to see how bad I sound. It’s getting printed and sent asap though, before I lose my nerve. Say a prayer that it doesn’t make me sound like a total dweeb, okay?

—

Dear S -

Happy Belated Mother’s Day. I say belated because I’m writing this the morning of Mother’s Day and as I’m planning to print it out and send it “snail mail,” and it’s Sunday, it probably won’t get to you for a few days.

This letter is even more belated than those Mother’s Day wishes. I’ve been trying to write something like this for close to 18 or more months and we can both see how well I’ve done with that. I should probably put some disclaimers on here, most of them going back to the fact that I’m a stubborn twerp occasionally and I have a tendency to stick my foot in my mouth alot. I’ve also spent too much time in the company of (at least one of) your brothers and while I don’t have their dry wit down, I top off alot of my words with a heaping dollop of sarcasm. It’s not always appropriate, and sometimes my common sense filters don’t catch it. I’m also taking a gamble and not having my usual proofreader go over this ahead of time. Please pardon any horrible spelling and/or grammar snafus or snarls.

I suppose I should begin by saying that attached to this, (unless I’m really dumb and forget to attach it) there is a medical history that is as belated as everything else. I don’t know how completely current it is for anyone other than myself, but if you ever have any sort of an emergency question, my mom knows lots more than I do. You can reach her at *My Mom’s Email Address*, if you feel comfortable doing so, or you can ask me to get ahold of her.

I guess this is the point for startlingly blunt admissions. Or at least blunt ones.

I’m jealous of you. There now I’ve said something that you’ve probably been able to guess for a long while. Yes, I’m jealous not just because you’re raising the daughter I gave birth to, but because you seem to have it all together while you’re doing that and raising your other kids too. Emmers has told me that you read (or did read) my blog, and I’m sure that you’ve seen my personal green-eyed monsters dancing out there on the screen.

I want you to know that it’s not personal. Really. Now, I know that I hate when people say, “It’s not personal,” because alot of the time it still feels personal. So I know that me saying that may mean squat. And I want to apologize for that, because I don’t want to make you feel bad about me feeling bad.

Past that, I want to tell you that the anger you may read on here isn’t directed at you. I rail against alot of stuff, but yet again, it’s not personal. I don’t want you to think that I hate you because you adopted The Sweetling. I hate me because I gave her up. I hate how some people around me were able to make me feel like I should give her up. I hate me because I didn’t say “No, I don’t want to give her up.” And I hate some very specific people from the hospital who treated me like junk. But I don’t hate you. Though I am jealous.

Wow, I’m reading what I wrote and I’m really hope I don’t sound like a total jerk.

I owe you a specific apology too. I posted pictures and names of your kids on my blog and that was wrong. Super wrong. I know that it won’t make complete amends but I wanted to let you know that I went back and put passwords on all the picture posts I could find, and I changed the all the names I could find. It took longer to change the names because I stopped to figure out nicknames to change them to. But it took me a long time to get over some stupid indignation about it and just do it too, and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t think. I wanted so badly to show off this beautiful little girl that had once been a part of me that I completely threw logic and my brain out the proverbial window. I’m sorry.

Now after I’ve said that, I’m going to stick my foot in my mouth and ask you for something. I’d really appreciate it if just every once and awhile, you sent pictures our way. I’ll understand if you don’t. I mean there’s a whole last paragraph of reasons you shouldn’t. But I want to tell you that out of everything, that’s one of the things that hurts most. There are occasional “fixes” when someone else shows us a picture or something, but having to get stuff third party like that… well, to tell you honestly it makes me feel forgotten and discarded. Which I mean, there isn’t much of a reason for you too remember me, but … yeah… This is the foot in mouth part.

The other foot in mouth part… Well actually if I start counting foot in mouth parts of this letter I’ll probably end up looking like some sort of mutant cow. But anyways,… another one of those foot in mouth requesty type parts…

My grandma, my dad’s mom, turns 80 years old tomorrow. She’s this wonderful tiny woman, who I love so very much… and well, I can’t really think of a good way to say this, but … I was wondering if maybe you might consider sending her a card… possibly with a picture of the Sweetling. Yet again, I’ll absolutely understand if you don’t and I mean this is someone you’ve never met, but I just thought I would ask. I’m her oldest grandchild and my cousins and sister are no where near having families, so The Sweetling is (biologically) her only great-grandchild. Yeah, I’m sorry if I sound like a dweeb asking this, and I hope I don’t offend you. My family is having a birthday celebration for her on the 22nd of June so if you could just drop a card in the mail between now and then it would be fine, and if you don’t it’s okay too. Her name and address are:

I hope things are going well for everybody there. I know you must have your hands full with … well with all of them.

So I guess this is where I should end it … I’ve probably taken more than enough of your time and I hope I haven’t been as annoying as I think I might have. Like I said at the beginning, health history as I know it is attached. If I get any changes I’ll let you know. Also, if for some reason you’d ever like some pictures of me when I was younger (I saw a picture of The Sweetling from Christmas and I want to say that I had that same hairstyle 20 or so years ago.) or anything like that… let me know. Or ignore me if you’d never want anything like that, because like I said before, dumb things come out of my mouth.

Well, that’s it I guess.

Oh, what with the Insight / Comcast mess, my new email is: , in case you need anything.

Happy Mother’s Day again.

-Ang

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