Determined To Succeed

Day one-hundred-ten.

O.K. So? How did you do on Thanksgiving? Did you go off half-cocked and eat your fill? Or did you go off fully-cocked and clean your plates twice (and finish off others’ too)? I actually did O.K., but just O.K. I had one big plate of food, but just one. I had no dessert (I couldn’t have fit it inside me anyway – after all, my body is not Doctor Who’s TARDIS) but hours later I did have a small plate of fresh leftovers. In the end, like I said, I think I did O.K., and later today I will be working out. Or should I say working off (smile)? No matter the case, I enjoyed Turkey Day 2010, but now it’s time for serious work.

I said in my post on Wednesday that sometimes the holidays are about weight maintenance, and that is the truth. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve prayed to the food gods to NOT gain weight. But that’s not how things work. The only way things work is when I make them work, plain and simple. That goes for all aspects of my life. All our lives, really, including food.

My biggest problem has always been portion control. It’s a thing that goes back for me to when I was a kid. My mom, who always did her absolute very best and worked so hard, did put food on our table, but there were times we both had less than what we wanted. There were times we went a bit hungry. That’s how I came to hoarde food, a trait I carried with me into adulthood. Sigh. Old habits die hard, I guess. Really, really hard.

So, as I surveyed the bounty on the table yesterday I gave thanks to God for the good things in my life, gave thanks for being able to become a better person, gave thanks and prayers for and to my mom, JoAnn (who I imagined had just as bountiful a Thanksgiving in Heaven as I did here) and gave thanks for the food in front of me. Then, I took a breath and decided I was only going to have one plate of food.

After all, no one was going to take my food away from me.

Now it’s the day after and I am thinking about returning to normalcy, returning to my routine of working out and eating smaller portions. Thanksgiving is an amazing day but today is another day, a Friday (and hell no – I didn’t go out at 2:00 a.m. to shop for Black Friday specials), a day leading into the weekend and you guys know how I sometimes fear the weekends. Sigh again, but it’s all O.K. It’s O.K. because, one, I know that Thanksgiving is a day to be enjoyed, food and all. Two, because weight loss and maintenance is all about getting into (or back into) routines and that is what I will be doing. What, I think, we will all be doing.

So, have a wonderful weekend, my friends in weight loss. I am also thankful to all of you, as well. We are all in this together and I am human. I love my turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and everything. But today is another day and this is another weekend, and by the time you next read me I will have worked out three times…and hopefully eaten less, too.

Dear Ma,

Today was a helluva day. It’s hard to believe it’s been a year since you passed away. Sometimes it seems like just yesterday, and sometimes it feels every minute of every hour of the last 365 days.  It’s just past 7:00 p.m. here and the time you past away last year has come and gone as quietly as the moment did then, and I sat and thought about last June 9th – how peaceful it was at 5 o’clock, quittin’ time, when you breathed your last breath and became eternally healed.

I woke up today feeling a mixture of emotions. Some of them were happy because I remembered the kinds of things we did together especially when I was a kid, like when we went to the movies together. How cool that was that you’d let me bug the shit out of ya so we could get to the show early and stand in line to get some popcorn (if we had the money) and get a good seat. Some were sad because I thought about how much I just miss picking up the phone and talking to you. I miss the way you said “hello” when you picked up the phone, the way you laughed and how our last movie together (”The Mummy”) was now just about eleven years ago. Damn, time flies way too fast sometimes. Don’t it, Ma? That’s why I’m writing you this letter. I’m just thinking about you so much.

This morning, after I wrote my blog (a sort of way to keep a diary of thoughts using the computer),  I got dressed and took a walk in the park.  It felt so damn good to just turn off my music and just talk to you. I didn’t care if I looked crazy, I just wanted to have a talk with my mom. It felt good to just talk about what’s going on in my life like we used to. I liked being able to tell you everything. I’m so glad we had that relationship. It’s rare. And yes, I cried a bit. Hell, who am I kidding? I cried a lot. I cried as I was writing this morning and I cried walking in the park. I didn’t care, though. I just needed my Mama.  I just wanted to be closer to you especially because it was rainy today. You see, after you were cremated I spread your ashes in the park you took me to when I was young. It’s called Harold Washington Park now, and it was raining that day like it is today.  That made it seem better somehow, more peaceful, and thank you for holding off most of the rain until I got back in the car. I appreciate that.

Yeah, I thought about you so much. In my blog I wrote about what kinds of food you and I liked and it made me happy to remember all the times we went to Valois, or to get beef chop suey. And Mama, thank you for calling Rosalyn that night we were so broke and so hungry and for walking over to her house at eight o’clock at night to get us the chicken and spaghetti she made for us. In the park today I wondered if I did a good job of telling you how great a mom you were (and are). I wondered if I ever told you how much I loved you for doing stuff like that. I know it had to be hard but you did a wonderful job taking care of us and I love you. Thank you.

The thing I miss the most is just talking. It just felt so fucking good to talk to you, like I had been storing it all up for a while and let it all just come out in a good and happy way. And I know you can’t answer back but it’s like a friend of mine said, I just have to know that you do answer me just in different ways now. It may not be your voice but you do listen and are with me. Like you were last Saturday at the Oprah thing, or holding the rain back like you did today. I just have to listen for you with different ears.

There are definitely times I screw things up, I know that, but I hope I am making you proud of me. Since I got let go from the zoo I’ve been using my time to live out my dream of writing. I used part of that time to take that trip to Egypt you always wanted to take. I am doing my best to help people as much as I can. Hell, I have even been trying to do my best and communicate with Linda (we will see how that one goes). I may not be perfect but I am your son and everything you taught me makes up the best parts of me. I hope you know that, too. We didn’t have a lot but we had each other, and that’s all that mattered.

What’s it like in Heaven, anyway? I imagine it like a big neighborhood. You’re all healed and better and feeling good and you come out on your front porch and say HI to the people keeping you company up there. The cats we used to have, Tiger, Princess and Big Boy, all came to greet you last year when you arrived and now they are all curled up with you enjoying the sun as you pet each one. Please give Tiger a big hug for me and a kiss on her head. I miss her, too. Grandma is there, Virginia is there (say HI to her, too, will ya?) and you have no more pain or sadness. That’s what I imagine Heaven to be like, and your spirit is happy as it always deserved to be.

Down here, things are the same. Still worried about money (I may need to find a job soon), still thinking about getting my “big break.” Still missing you. But I’ll be OK.

I know I could keep talking to you all night, Mama. I guess I just want you to know you did a great job as a mom. You really did. We had some hard times but we also had great times, too. And you made me laugh, like when you said I was your favorite son. It took me a minute the first time I heard you say that and I said “but I’m your only son,” and how we had a great laugh over that so many times afterward. Your smile always made things better and you fixed everything so I didn’t have to worry. Sure there were things we couldn’t afford but you gently said “I can’t get that for you because we can’t afford it.” Thank you for teaching me about money and about the reality of it. Thank you for treating me with intelligence even when I was young. That is why this section of my computer diary is devoted to you. I always was, am and always will be so very proud of you. Those are the memories I will share with the world and the ones I will shout out to whoever will listen.

I really do hope Heaven is like I envision it to be. You worked so hard all your life, Ma. You deserve the rest in such a beautiful place. And you bet your ass I will keep talking to you about what’s going on. I miss you, Mama, so much. So pet the cats, take care just know I love you very, very much.

Your favorite (and only) son. Me.