You are a part of me, always.

I have gone back and forth about sharing this post because it is a subject that weighs extremely heavy on my heart almost every single day. This is why I'm just now getting around to posting it. Before I really get into the depth of this I just want to let everyone know a couple of things, 1. // I am not sharing this because I am looking for sympathy or needing someone to feel sorry for me. Honestly, I'm writing this for me because if I don't find some healthy way to express these emotions then I will keep them bottled up and I will eventually explode and turn into the person I once was and that's what I'm trying to avoid. 2. // I am utterly vulnerable and this topic has always and probably always will leave me with mixed emotions and mixed feelings so just love me through it.
Ok? Here we go.

Now, I cannot recall my precise age {somewhere between 6-7} but that doesn't make my memory any less capable of understanding what was happening in my life. I always remember my parents having problems and from what I can remember, it was always my father to the rescue. I remember living back in my home town of Greenbrier, West Virginia. My younger brother by only a year and a half {it even feels weird calling him my little brother as he's almost six foot four.} We lived in this red brick house that had farm door shutters and a backyard every country kid lives for. I had a fairly 'decent' childhood. Woke up before the sun and played all day in the fields until the street lights came on. I was grateful. It was my grandmother who raised us for the most part because my dad worked out of town and my mother, well, I can't really tell you what she did on a daily basis because she was in and out so quick I can't really remember her face.

What I do remember clear as crystal is the day my dad finally came home for good and with him was a new car. Little did we know, that car would be transporting us thousands of miles away from everyone and everything we knew. When my dad gave us the news about us moving to Kansas, I don't think I really had too much feeling about just because at the time he worked so much that when he did finally come home, we just wanted to be wherever he was. So, that next day, we packed nothing but our clothes and we packed up our things in dads sports car, said our goodbyes and that was it. That was the last time I saw that part of my life. The last time I got to see her. My mother.

Now, as time went on and we got settled, life moved on. I didn't think too much about my life back home or the people. Everyone and everything just slowly faded into the back of mind. I would sporadically get thoughts of my grandma and of course my mother, curious about their well being and praying that they thought of me once in a while. See, whatever happened between my parents when we were back home, I'll never really know the truth, and I really don't even know if I care to know but what I do know is whatever did happen, ruined my chances of ever getting close to mother again.

Years went by and my father dated. MOST of his girlfriends I didn't care too much for but in 1998 that all changed. He had met this woman he worked with and it was getting serious, seriously fast. I remember one night after dinner, my father sat down with my brother and myself and he let us know that there was a special woman in his life and he finally wanted us to meet her. Not only meet her but her TWO kids. No. I was not happy about that by any means but it wasn't my decision. Besides, I was only a child. I just knew I didn't want my father with anyone who wasn't my mother. The funny thing is, I turned out to love this woman and her two daughters like they were my mother and sisters. Days would go by where I would be waiting for something to go wrong and it would just be back to my dad, my brother and myself; and not because I wanted something to go wrong but just because I was used to things in my life falling to shit. Finally, it felt like a big weight was lifted off of me and I was starting to feel a sense of completeness. {The completeness I often daydreamed about having with my biological mother.} Like I said, I kept my emotions bottled up and I got so used to it that it would take a life changing situation to cause all of those emotions to rise again so my heart was finally feeling happy. It was patched up just a little and then BAM! We were a family of six who did normal, fun family things and who would soon be a family of seven which would make our household feel that much more full. Five girls and two dudes. Life was good and all of those bottled, mixed up emotions seemed to fade away in the distance. 

Want to know how that chapter ended? That's just it, it ENDED. They eventually split up and it happened so freaking fast, it gave me whip lash. There we were again. Left alone. Another family torn a part and completely broken and I knew that no patch, no matter how strong could fix it.
Those bottled up emotions I had spent so much time trying to hide and get rid of, washed over my soul so heavy that I started to drown in depression. Was there something wrong with us? Were we bad kids? Were we not good enough? I couldn't process or understand why everyone was leaving us. I sank so deep into depression and anxiety as I hit my teen years that I a truly did not give a shit about anyone or anything. I did what I wanted and authority was irrelevant to me. My thoughts were this: 'What was the point in listening to anything an adult had to say? They lie and make promises they can't keep.' I knew that where I was in my life was not ideal but I kept screwing up in school anyway. I made boys my number one priorty and penicillin became my best friend. I sniffed it so many times a day {even in the girls bathroom at school} that I would forget which class I had to go to next.

I was a big ball of mess. I started drama with other girls in school. I purposely stole other girls' boyfriends. I was sniffing so much penicillin that I could literally run my own pharmacy and I was getting mixed up with all the wrong crowds. I started stealing from stores and even from people I loved, just to be able to afford my weekends out at the football games and buy the clothes and shoes and unnecessary things I was buying to fill this void. So many hurtful and dumb choices I was making just to fill this gigantic hole in my soul. So many people I hurt and lied to just to try to make some sense of what my life was and who the hell I was. I lost a lot of people during this time in my life and the rebel in me kept doing stupid shit on purpose because I had already lost so much, whats one person or one more situation? During these years in my life I never once talked to my mother. As time went on, I started to ask the questions I felt I needed answers to and although I got answers, they were so one sided that it made me ask more questions. I mean, what's a girl gotta do to fill this void I've been feeling for most of life?

It wasn't until I gave birth to my eldest son back in March of 2009, I remember receiving a message on Facebook that said my mother was trying to get in touch with me.....

My first thought was why? After all of these years of no phone calls, no visits, not even letters. Why now? My second thought? Thank you Jesus, because I have missed this woman more than anything in this world. Finally, after all these years of pain and open-ended answers, I was finally going to be able to have that mother/daughter relationship my soul so desperately long for. I remember just sitting and praying. Praying for forgiveness for all the wrong I had done and I even remember trying to make deals with Jesus, that if he just kept my mother close to me that I would never do another bad thing as long as I lived.

We talked almost everyday after that. I thought at first it might be weird because so many years went by but it wasn't weird at all. Hearing her voice made the rest of the world disappear. Even though she was thousands of miles away, it was like she was sitting right next to me. Best friends, like I always dreamed for. We talked about our days, we talked about boys, we even hit base on a lot of touchy subjects I was eager to get answers about. I kept her updated with her first grandchild's milestones and we even made plans to come out to visit her so she could finally meet him and the man I fell so deep in love with. My life was starting to make sense again and my soul was feeling so full. 

Well, After time went by, our talks got shorter and the amount of phone calls between us simmered down. Her number changed a lot so I never had a reliable phone number to contact her on. Eventually we only talked on occasion and our conversations were always brief. I think at this point I was already so immuned to being rejected by most of the people in my life that once again, I went back to bottling up my emotions and tucking them away because at this point I was completely and utterly exhausted with life. I guess I was just content with the few times I did get to hear from her. Whether we talked everyday or once in a blue moon, I was just grateful for the chance to hear her voice every chance I got. Not too long after that, I stoppped hearing from her completely and there went my heart, soul and mind shattered yet again into an infinity amount of pieces that there was no way this shit was healing. I was absolutely devastated. She's gone again with no warning. Like I've been dreaming this whole time. Heart broken is used so lightly these days. There I was left yet again wondering what was wrong with me? I obviously had to be problem, right?

This is the part that is so hard for me express. I'm literally bawling my eyes out as I type this.

.....December of last year, we had just moved here in October in hopes of better opportunies. I had just started cosmetology school and things in my life were actually ok. I had my husband, I had my kids and for that I was grateful. Up to this point, everything else rarely crossed my mind. It's crazy to think that we can train our minds to completely shut out an entire part of our lives as if it never existed and that is what I did. It worked for the most part and that worked just fine for me.

Then... the week before Christmas, I had a facebook messenger notification pop up on my phone from my aunt. I was actually getting ready {for what was only my 5th day of cosmetology school so, a week in.} that morning so I postponed reading it so I could finish what I was doing and I would get to it before I headed out. Well, when I finally sat down to read the message, I was really wishing I hadn't. In the message my aunt had informed me that something had happened to my mother and she was in the hospital. Now, after an on and off messy, sporadic relationship with this woman I called my mother, I shouldn't have cared as much as I do care and a part of me even tried not caring but I couldn't help it. I had asked for the number to the hospital in which she was staying and after revving up enough courage to call, I did...

Here I am thinking, what in the world do I possibly have to say to her now? Our relationship {if that's what you call it} had permanently been ruined and I wasn't sure I would be able to hop back into it with her. I was so focused on what I was going to say and it turns out that none of it really mattered. This was going to be time that I got to express how the past years have made me feel. I was finally going to ask her that one question I've been dying to know the answer to...

"WHY DID YOU ABANDON ME AGAIN AND AGAIN?"

Well, I never got a chance to ask any questions. I barely even got a chance to process what was actually happening. When I had talked to the nurse caring for my mother, she had informed me that my mother had had a stroke and it caused a brain aneurism to rupture and she had been put on life support ONE week prior.

ONE WEEK ON LIFE SUPPORT...

LIFE SUPPORT. LIFE SUPPORT. LIFE SUPPORT. Kept running through my mind like a really bad folk record. Why? Is she okay? What exactly does all of this mean? The nurse also informed me that they were keeping a close eye on her vitals and brain activity and that they would keep me updated on any progress she had made....

Fast-forward to a couple of days later when I had received another phone call. It was the same nurse who informed me about the updates on my mothers health and not one good thing was said. She then proceeded to tell me that my grandmother had consented them to move my mother to hospice....

 That same day, my grandmother was admitted into the same hospital for having a heart attack. {she's okay now.}

What the hell did this all mean? It meant that I was about to be handed one of the biggest and scariest decisions a person could ever make in their life. 

"I'M SO SORRY TO INFORM YOU THAT YOUR GRANDMOTHER HAS BEEN ADMITTED BECAUSE SHE HAD A HEART ATTACK DUE TO STRESS." 

"BECAUSE SHE IS TOO DISORIENTED TO MAKE ANY BIG DECISIONS AND YOU ARE NEXT IN KIN, WE NEED TO KNOW WHAT YOU WANT US TO DO."

"YOUR GRANDMOTHER'S ORIGINAL PLAN WAS TO TAKE YOUR MOTHER OFF LIFE SUPPORT AND LET HER DIE NATURALLY."

Let her die? She can't die. I could not let her leave me again and this time for good. There were so many things we never talked about. There were so many things that I never knew about her and she never knew about me. She hadn't even meant her grand-kids or son in law. This could not be it. I prayed and I prayed and I would dream of her getting better and I would dream of that trip we used to talk about and I hoped that she knew how much I loved her and I hoped she knew how much I missed her.

My mother passed away on December 24, 2014 and not a day goes by that I don't think of her.
My soul will always wander and cry out for her and that closeness we could never quite reach.

I won't ever have the direct verbal answers I have been yearning to know since I was a little girl.

I won't ever be able to hear her soft, gentle, country accent that still lingers in my thoughts.

I won't ever be able to see her face, or hug or or kiss her.

She won't ever be able to know what her daughter was like or what type of woman I grew up to be.

We won't ever be able to do those things I've always dreamed of doing with her because she was taken from me so fast that I never even got to say goodbye.

I spent so many years angry with her and so confused as to why she was always in and out and now that she's gone, I don't care about any of that.

I just want her to know that whatever situation(s) was happening in her life that kept her strayed from me, is okay.

I want her to know that I'm not mad at her and I forgive her.

I want her to know that her grandchildren are amazing children and even though they have never met her, they love her unconditionally, regardless.

I want her to know that my husband is a godly man and she would be so proud.

I want her to know that I don't blame her for anything.

Most of all though, I want her to know that I am finally in a good place in my life and my soul has never felt closer to hers.

Mom, you will always be a part of me and wherever this life takes me, I know you're here to guide me through it. I feel you. I miss you. I love you. Forever.

Yours,

Sissy.

Sandra J Bittinger

'The Original Sailing Soul'

Aug 13, 1961 // Dec 24, 2014

She was 53 years old.

The one thing I do remember and will cherish for the rest of my life is this song and us dancing shamelessly to it together.
...until we can dance together again in heaven.

"When I dip you dip we dip."  <3