September

I was driving today when Green Day came on the radio. It was "Wake me up when September ends." It was my theme song for September. Was being the operative word.

You see, September sucks. When I was little, I always looked forward to September. It was the month school started and despite me being a crappy student, I liked going to school. At least, I think I remember liking going to school. I enjoyed my classmates. I think I enjoyed my teachers - or some of them. September was the start of the regular season of soccer. We had practices and tournaments in the summer, but the season kicked off in September.

As I got older, September took on new meaning. September is the month that we had a baby reclaimed from us. We met the birth parents just a few days before the baby was born. A few days after, we brought the baby home. Then, the worst phone call I have had in my life, and I have had two phones that my parents have died. I still remember that day. Vividly. Its one of the three worst days of my life.

Then, a few years later, my dad passed away in September. He was in the hospital for something minor and left me a voice mail. I didn't call back because he said he would be home in a few days. He never made it out of the hospital. I got the call from my mom that he had passed away. We had his funeral a few days later.

Oh, and these were back to back days on the calendar, even though they happened in different years.

Then, years later, my daughter was born. 09-09-09. Yep, my 9 baby. September got a little bit brighter. It still sucked at the end of the month, but at least the first 10 days were fun. (Lets not forget Sept 11.) What is better than your child being born? It ranks up there with the my wedding, the days I met my boys (who were all adopted [not are, as in its something still going on, but were as in it IS done]). So who can hate a month with a child's birthday, especially a child who, at least according to the doctors, was a one in a billion?

Today I had court. I had a rough night sleeping last night. Court went well. But I knew I was putting on a face for everyone. For today would have been my mom's 71st birthday. This day in 1940 she was born. And like my daughter was medically impossible, or so we were told, my mom wasn't supposed to get pregnant and yet here I am. She passed away less than 6 months ago. And I was doing fine. Or at least faking it well enough that no one knew. Then a commercial came on the radio for hospice. My mom died while in hospice. (Does anyone not die in hospice?)

So it made me think more. September sucks. I miss my mom. We were never the closest mother and son. But we were mother and son. We didn't talk much, or enough, especially in the last few years. But we talked when it mattered. That last conversation is something I will never forget and anyone who wants to tell me that it doesn't matter has never had that conversation. You know, the one where you know its the last time you are going to see someone alive and you say those things that you have thought but never said. Those might be the most honest conversations we ever have in life.

And as I sat and thought, and as I sit and write, I realize that my mom wouldn't want me to sit and mope for a month - or half a month. Sure, I can miss her today. I can miss my dad on the anniversary of his passing. But that's it. Two days. September should be good. The fall is coming. Soccer gets started. School is in full swing. Its a reminder of the cycle of life. Its a reminder of the good things in life. Fall colors.........pumpkins.......apples...........the smell of fresh cut grass.........rain.........

So for me, its not Wake me up when September ends. Its wake me up when September comes. Here is to a new month, a new attitude and a new approach. And thanks Mom. There are always lessons you can teach.