I rarely post things about how negatively I feel about myself. I figure it's self-defeating and does no good to do so. That being said, I had to post this one time about a photo I have of my mother and I that is very dear to me because it is the last photo we have of us before she passed away.
It was in the summer of 2001. I don't have any official records of my weight that far back, but I'm estimating it was around 330-340 pounds, my highest recorded being 344. In this photo, I can see 2 things: How terribly obese I was and how sick she was. She had a heart attack some time before this was taken and 6 weeks following that had another one that took her life.
I am more than twice her size at this point. She had lost about 40 pounds after receiving a diagnosis of diabetes 10 years prior to her death. She watched her sugars carefully and was diligent in taking her medication. Following the first heart attack, however, I can see how much she had wasted away, how sickly she was looking. I wish I had a date for this picture...but I'm sure that it was very shortly before she passed away: July 27th. This will be the 12th year without her. She was just 73 years old.
I miss her every.single.day. since then. I am crying as I type this, just as any other time that her name comes up or I think about her. I was only 31 years old raising my 9-year-old daughter by myself (with her help throughout the years, thankfully). I was lost after that. I didn't have her to turn to when I was struggling. I can't say that I turned to food after she passed away, because it's obvious here that I had been doing that well enough on my own already. It only got harder after that.
She had two children, my sister and I, and only 2 grandchildren, my daughter and my nephew. She was a loving wife (my parents would have been married 60 years this May), mother, and grandmother. I can't say there was anyone who knew her that didn't like her.
But...that is the past. I like to live there occasionally...well, more than that actually. I spend a great deal of time there. It's comfortable...even though it makes me sad, I'm safe there.
I do know one thing for certain: my mother would not have wanted me to be unhealthy. She and I never talked seriously about my weight, although I'm sure that I dieted a few dozen times during that earlier period in my life. She took control of her life when she got the diagnosis of diabetes and also tried her best to heal her heart, which was irreparably broken.
I owe it to her to finish this journey. If there is anyone I would want to "impress" with my weight loss, it would be her. I do it for myself, but I also have to do it for her. I would like to think she would still be proud of me today for trying.
This is a song that reminds me of her, and I try not to listen to it because of how sad I get...but if I'm already there, I listen anyway.