My son turned 21-months today. Tomorrow I run my first half-marathon in a year. Sunday is Mother’s Day. This trifecta has my mind spinning with emotions – some high, some low – but all of it is topped with gratitude.
When I decided I’d run the Journey’s Half-Marathon six months ago, I didn’t realize it was on Mother’s Day weekend. For obvious reasons, this holiday is particularly difficult for me and many people I know. On the one hand, I want to celebrate the single most influential person in my life… while at the same time mourn her loss and attempt to let go of the anger of her choices. After 19-years of dealing with this turbulent, emotionally charged weekend annually (thanks Hallmark), I can say it is getting easier.
Don’t get me wrong. If I’m honest, I still haven’t 100% forgiven my mom. And, I still miss her terribly. I still tear up when I see heartfelt Mother’s Day commercials that are designed to tug at my heart and guilt me until my wallet pops open and I rectify those feelings by buying trinkets, cards and flowers. Kudos to these marketers by the way. It still works on me and I don’t even have a mother.
I think it gets easier as time goes on because I’m realizing how little control we have over some portions of our destiny. I had 18-years with my mom. She was an amazing mother who loved me unconditionally. Unlike so many of my friends, I had time to say good-bye. I knew my mom was dying, long before she took her last breath. I know without a doubt she knew how much I loved her when she finally passed.
This past week, I was shocked to hear the news about Dave Goldberg dying. I’m slowly working my way through Sheryl Sandberg’s book wondering where I fell on the continuum of career versus family. At times I applaud her efforts, while at other moments, I despise her. Now, I just feel her loss and am reminded that nobody can escape fate. Yesterday, a long-time acquaintance visited me at the hospital to talk about his efforts to pay it forward. Several months ago while competing in a ski race, he went into cardiac arrest. Call it fate. Call it God. Call it whatever you want… but a physician happened to be skiing behind him. For 25-minutes, this man conducted CPR on the trail and while he was transported via a snowmobile sled to an ambulance. Once at the ambulance, they were able to shock him back to life. Just a few months later, he’s back to bike riding and coordinating a free communitywide CPR class, forever changed but healthy, happy and alive.
I don’t know where I fall on the spectrum of grief. I know it is ugly and unpredictable. But in this moment, I can also say that I’m grateful to the woman who made me and this weekend I’ll do my best to remember all she did for me. Tomorrow, I run for me because she gave me the strength and courage to race, even if I suck. She taught me that it isn’t always about winning. That, just showing up and playing hard is enough. Even death can’t take that away from us and for that I’m extremely grateful this Mother’s Day weekend.
I love you mom. Always have and always will.