No. I mean, I've been really, really sick. Like, scary sick. Half of the people who read this blog see me at least weekly (if not daily) and can attest that I have not been myself.
It started in September with a sinus infection. I treated it with antibiotics. It never cleared up. It got worse. I became this lethargic, nauseous, sleepy, achy pile of bones. I've lost 20 pounds and even though I was one of those folks who could afford to lose a few, trust me when I say that this is no diet plan I'd recommend.
Now, before you go off trying to diagnose me and asking me if I have a tick-borne illness (no - they've checked) or if I am pregnant (definitely not! Dwayne would kill me), let me say that I have been seeing an internist and he is working on figuring out what is going on. The best we can tell, what I have is autoimmune, and I fear that it is Crohn's disease, which my mother battled most of her life. Knowing what it is will be half of the battle. The other half will be figuring out what causes it to flare...the most likely culprit being stress, which I've had boatloads of lately. But that's another discussion for another blog posting.
That should explain where ClareMom has been the past three months. Blogging about food? Forget it! The mere thought of food turned my stomach. I became a withering pile of humanity lying in my bed feeling sorry for myself and leaving all the parenting to my much better half. He rose to the occasion like a champ, even hovering over me with a concerned look on his face. I really did look as though I was a day or two away from pushing up daisies.
While I was lying there, cataloging all of the things I wasn't getting done at work and at home, and feeling upset that I couldn't run around like the marathon mother that I had formerly been, for the first time in a long time I had plenty of minutes to feel sorry for myself. When you've already buried one parent, mortality takes on a whole new meaning. I began calculating how much time I would have left if I were to die at the same age my mother was. Seventeen years. That's all I'd have left.
I realize how morbid, maudlin, and completely miserable this line of thinking must appear to you. But if I am to be completely honest, this is where my mind went when confronted with the fact that I wasn't just going to "bounce back." I had to face facts. I'm not a spry 25-year-old anymore. I'm getting old and my body isn't cooperating the way it used to.
And then, to make things worse, I calculated how old Jared and Jade would be would be if I were to die at 59. Respectively, they'd be 30 and 24. And my heart hurt remembering how lost and unhinged I felt when, at the age of 37, I lost my mother. There was so much we didn't talk about. So much I didn't know.
It's funny now to think about the things I wanted to ask her about. Who was going to tell me about menopause and what it's like? Who was going to give me tips on being a good grandma? Who was going to hold my hand when I went through my first health crisis? These were the things I was thinking about as they lowered my mother's body into the grave. I've always been that way...having some time with a beloved family member has never been enough. I always want more. I run after them, even though they're gone.
Everything within me screams out that my children won't ever know that feeling. I want to leave them with good, solid, truthful information. Lessons gleaned from a life well-lived. Lessons gained from picking myself up out of the dust of failure. Advice and counsel on what to do when you don't know what to do.
So, this year (and perhaps into 2013), I will be dedicating myself to writing advice to my children on this blog in addition to favorite recipes (when I get my appetite back). Perhaps it will help you and your children, too. Maybe you'll read it and decide that I am certifiable. I resemble that remark. Maybe you'll read it and decide you have a few things you want to say to your own children. Maybe you'll even write those things down.
What harm can it do?
At least you know you won't have to read about my experiences with menopause, (a) because I have not yet experienced it; and (b) because I am clueless about it (although I am looking forward to not having my "monthly bill" anymore).
Happy New Year to my family, friends, and faithful followers. God bless you in 2012.
