Kaddish

So it has come. The end of the time for saying Kaddish. (If you have no idea what I am talking about, go read here: http://www.jewfaq.org/death.htm) So what I have learned over the last 11 months?

I have no fucking clue. Its been 11 months. Reflection. Thought. Some prayer. (Yes, I do believe in prayer.) I think there are some things that I am sure I did right and some things I am pretty sure I screwed up. In no particular order............

If I could go back in time, I still wouldn't tell my mom about Tyler. She was dying. It wasn't her burden to carry, it was mine. She had already dealt with the loss of her spouse, her only daughter, her parents. She didn't need to deal with the stress of a child who is troubled. She had enough on her plate. I get it. And, even though I believe in my heart it caused some difficulty between us, I wouldn't change it. She needed to focus on herself, her well being, her ability to fight this crappy disease.

I still would want to be put out of my misery. I saw the suffering in person on our last visit to her. I saw her smile and sit with my baby. I saw her struggle to get out of bed and sit with us. I saw her talk. I saw how much it hurt. Life is a matter of quality, not quantity. If someone can live to be 100 and be healthy and not in pain, then great. I am all for that. If someone is 60 and is in constant pain and can't have the quality of life that he/she wants, then there is a place for helping those people get out of that pain. We can give people pot for pain, but we can't help end a life of someone who is cognizant and has made a decision that life is too painful and too difficult to continue? I don't mean suicide or depression, but I mean someone who is sick, knows he is dying and wants to end the pain. If it were me, I would want to be put out of the pain.

I would have spent more time with my mom. I wasn't a great son. I know. I was pretty good when I was younger. I was respectful. I did my best - except in school. I wasn't trouble. I think I was successful in her eyes. Whatever else you think of me, and opinions vary widely, I have a great family, most people like me and I have a decent job. But when my dad passed away, the tension between my mom and me was difficult to break. He was the go between. He kept tensions down. And then he was gone. And I dont think we knew, either of us, how to interact without him there. Maybe its a failing of mine. Maybe its just how my family was. I don't know.

Then my mom's sister, I refuse to call her my aunt, made a comment about how my dad's passing was a blessing. That set me off and I wanted my mom to stand up for my dad. She didn't want to cause problems with her sister. She let it slide. That was odd. My mom always fought - with me, with the principal, with anyone who wronged her family. Interestingly, I am very much like her in that way. And now, when I needed her to do it, she backed off. I think that had an effect on our relationship. I see that now. Had I seen it then, maybe I could have talked to her about it. But I didnt. Maybe I didn't have perspective. Maybe I was being short sighted. Maybe I was too pissed off. I dont know. But now that chance is gone.

I would have learned more. My 5th grader was doing a heritage project. I didnt have answers to his questions. Where do we come from? What good stories are there? I know my dad's stories. I know most of my mom's stories. But I don't know my story. I dont know my family's story. Now I am sitting here, pushing 40, not knowing enough about my family. That bothers me.

I would still have no regrets. My life isnt perfect. Some of it, no a lot of it, is my fault. I understand that. I take responsibility for what I have done. I have made decisions. There are consequences. I have to live with them. I get it. But I dont have regrets. No, I have one. One regret that will never change. When my dad was in the hospital, I never went. I know, I know. He was going to be released. They said he was fine. But he wasn't fine. He passed away. I never got that last chance to talk to him and see him. That is my one regret.

But I dont regret the rest of it. I did what I could. I tried. I was the best son I knew how to be. Now I am the best dad I know how to be. I am not perfect. I dont want to be perfect. I dont need that burden. I need to be me, however that is.

So, 11 months of Kaddish. 11 months of reflection. I miss my mom. Even though I didnt talk to her often, I miss her. She isnt here. There is a security blanket that is gone and is never coming back. There is absolutely nothing I can do about it. I have had to grow up a lot in the last 11 months, not just because of this, but it has been harder with this.

So, I leave you with this. I love you mom. I miss you. Thank you for being the best mom you could be. I appreciate that more than you know.