Adjusting to Celebrating. . .

This past weekend we celebrated both my mother’s 80th birthday and St. Patrick’s Day…let me say I “celebrated” on the outside and cried on the inside.

On the outside I was truly truly blessed beyond words to be lucky enough to have my Mom for 80 years (well almost 60 with me anyway.) My Mom, together with my Dad has been my biggest champion. Always pushing and encouraging me to move forward, reminding me every step of the way that despite my physical challenges, I was as good as anyone else and could do anything I wanted.

Yet I was crying on the inside because now being #paralyzed and in a #wheelchair, I am totally dependent on my honey to drive me everywhere. Thankfully my Mother’s birthday was on Saturday and St. Patrick’s Day was on Sunday otherwise I would be forced to wait until 7:00 pm to see my parents on their special days.

I am no longer able to drive to my parents (or anywhere) and pick up my Mom and take her to a special one-on-one mother/daughter lunch. I am no longer able to spend the much needed quality time with my mother. I try to make up for not being able by buying (ordering online actually as I can no longer go shopping on my own) special 8 & 0 candles, an 80th balloon, my attempt in making her day special. Inside my heart hurts that I am not able to drive over and pick up my Mom and proudly walk hand-in-hand together into a restaurant for our special together or hug her long and hard and whisper Happy Birthday Mom.

On the outside I was excited and again truly truly blessed beyond words to be lucky enough to spend another St. Patrick’s Day with both my parents but it’s my Dad who is 100% Irish. For nearly 60 years we celebrated with our traditional ham, cabbage & potatoes dinner joyfully singing along to a selection of Irish music. A couple of our family’s favorites include I’ll Take You Home Again Kathleen by Daniel O’Donnell and Oh Danny Boy by Bing Crosby. Now sadly, as my Dad finds eating and breathing to difficult he no longer enjoys his traditional Irish dinner or his soda bread, he no long taps his foot to the beat of the music and sings to and with us but he is with us. As I wheel over to my Dad laying on the sofa with his oxygen, Inside my heart hurt that I am not able to reach to hug him long and hard and whisper Happy St. Patrick’s Day Daddy.


As always, I wish you days filled with wonder – take a minute to wonder what it is that made you smile today!

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One thought on “Adjusting to Celebrating. . .

  1. Yes that’s all true. Yet they are here with you. As my son said he knows others are worse off then him. Yet this doesn’t make his loss and pain any easier. You tell him to accept his fate that others are worse off. But you see how that doesn’t matter. You still hurt, you still have a great loss, of what you can no longer do. I am sorry you must go through this . I hope one day they can find something to help you walk again, you have always been so strong. Don’t give up. As long as your breathing there is still hope.

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