Letter to Moooooomie: March 25, 2016

Dear Moooomie,

I hope Brian won’t mind another letter to you tossed in here.  I so badly wanted to call you the other day.  I finally received my final tooth/implant after a year-long process of multiple surgeries, $4,000 and a whole bunch of healing time in between.   You were the first person I called when I found out, a year and a half ago, that one of my lower teeth had not fully healed after my jaw fracture all the way back in 1996 and it needed to be removed.  You were with me each step of the way through that long process… until now.

Since you were so far away in Minnesota, I sent you picture updates of what my sore and swollen mouth looked like right after my first surgery for the extraction and bone-grafting… and, in true Moooomie fashion you were empathetic and checked in on me often.  It meant so much to you that Leashya was with me through the whole process and took care of me afterwards.

post surgery
Disgusting. And, as it turns out, quite painful.
flipper
My new hardware.

Four months later I was back for my 2nd surgery to insert the post and do some more bone grafting.  My friend Marissa brought me that time and took great care of me; she even texted you a picture of me in the chair just as they were about to get the anesthesia started. You thanked her for being there.  I know you were so grateful for her, and Leashya, caring for me when you could not. When recuperating back at my place that evening I sent you this gem to prove to you that yes, I was relaxing in my “jammies” as you had instructed me to do:

See, Mom? I’m totally resting.

When I was in the dental office a few weeks ago to have impressions done before my implant tooth could be made, the dentist took a picture of me with those mouth-spreader things to show off all my toofers just like they did for my before/after pictures when I got braces in the 7th grade.  When she showed me the picture, I began to laugh uncontrollably (because the picture was absolutely hideous… and awesome.)  Soon the dentist and hygienist joined in and the 3 of us were having a great time. But shortly after the laughter stopped I started to tear up because I had just realized that a stupid picture just like that is exactly the kind of thing I’d have sent straight to you so we could laugh about it together.  I likely would have told you to print it out and hang it on your fridge or put in your wallet… and you totally would have done it, too.  So here it is, Momma. My dentist and I collectively decided that this just might have to be my Christmas card this year:

say cheese final
Say CHEESE! Hilariously ugly.
done
A brand new toofer!

You always took such good care of both of us kids, Mooooomie.  And I probably called you way too much… but I loved hearing your voice often and it felt so good to be loved as much as you loved us.  Each year on the anniversary of my car accident you would send me flowers to tell me how grateful you were that I survived; you treated August 11th just like an extra birthday for me.  You were so proud of me when I crossed the finish line of the Nashville marathon 4 years after breaking my spine– you were just beaming and I was so grateful that you flew all that way to support me and cheer me on.  You, Auntie Barbie and my friend Laura were the best cheerleaders anyone could have asked for.  Even from so far away you still made me feel so, so loved! Flowers on my birthday… every August 11th, cards for no reason, care packages “just because,” a mother’s day card and gift from my cats (aka YOU) and you even sent flowers to all four of us sisters featured in the “Four Sisters” documentary on the night of the premiere.  If for some reason you couldn’t be at any important events in my life in person, you made every effort to be there in spirit and for that I will always be so grateful.

I often hesitated to write too much about the details or specifics of my self-injury when you were still here because I knew that, as my Mom, reading about that would hurt you deeply to know how badly I hurt myself. I wanted to be honest but admittedly was a little guarded about it. You never wanted either of your kids to be in pain because you took that pain on yourself as most parents, particularly mothers, do.  I know that is only one of the millions of reasons Brian’s death was so painful for you.  I can’t imagine the agony you felt in your heart as his mother and to outlive him.  This may sound absolutely ridiculous, but the first time I hurt myself after you died, I was worried that wherever you are now that you could see what was happening and I actually found myself saying out loud to you, “I’m so sorry, Momma… but I have to do this.”

I recently wrote a letter and spoke about an experience I had seeking medical attention after a serious cutting episode.  Most people have responded with only kindness and empathy and for that I’m so grateful as I know it’s a bit of a risk to put myself out there in that way.  The typical response from those close to me involves them telling me they wish I wouldn’t hurt myself that way, that it saddens them to know that I’m in that much pain.  However, not all the feedback has been kind. This is something you wouldn’t expect a parent to say in response to their child hurting themselves:

“Does that truly make you feel better about yourself? If it is, it doesn’t seem to be working! You aren’t comfortable with who you are and that is your primary problem.  If you were you wouldn’t be hurting yourself like you do.”
 And that’s OK, not everyone is going to be supportive… and not everyone is going to understand.  But here’s the beauty in that– I can choose who I allow to get close to me and those who I need to distance myself from.  While I can’t control anyone else, I can control how I respond to them… or, in some cases, to not respond at all.
I so wish you and Brian were still here.  I love this song so much… it always makes me think you guys.  Maybe someday I’ll be able to listen to it without crying.  Have a listen and know I love you both.
Always,
Laura
Don’t Say Goodbye
Songwriters: MILLER/NEWMAN/MILLER
Publisher: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
I’m drinkin’ rain and taking pictures in the dark
With some flowers in my hair and a hole inside my heart
And the hole you left in me is so deep and it’s so wide

If you look I think you’ll see through right to the other side

Take the stars down that I wished on
Take the stars down from the sky
Take my heart and leave me here but when you go don’t say goodbye

I used to wait for trains that never come
I would wait for yesterday but I was waiting for no one
So now I don’t look for you to come walking through my door
Those were just the longings of a child who doesn’t live here anymore

Take the stars down that I wished on
Take my tears so I don’t cry
Take my heart and leave me here but when you go don’t say goodbye

So say a prayer for the ones love left behind
Cause a broken heart grown cold is the hardest burden you can find
There’s a bottle where god keeps all our tears saved up inside
But it’s gonna take a river for all the ones I have cried