A Week Later

· by: melissa

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My mom is dead.

I keep saying those four words to myself and then I shake my head in disbelief.

How is that possible?

But, it’s been a little over a week since I’ve last seen her or spoke to her. That’s the longest I’ve ever gone without any contact with my mom. So, it must be true. She’s gone.

I saw the casket lowered into the ground. I even did that stupid mitzvah thing that us Jewish people do…I threw a shovel full of earth on top of the casket. The one my mom was in. Forever. But the whole time I was screaming in my head “Are you sure she’s dead?” I mean, what if it’s all been a big mistake?

People keep telling me to write about it, that I’m so lucky to have my words as my outlet. Well, words fail me. Even the cards I’ve been getting in the mail don’t do justice to the numbness I feel.

It isn’t fair.

Life isn’t fair.

My mom is supposed to be here to guide me through my life. I’m only 42 years old, I still need my mom.

There is no one to replace her.

She’s dead. My mom is dead.

My greatest fan. My support. The one person I went to for everything.

Now what.

Who?

Life goes back to normal. Well, as normal as it will be for now.

Laundry.

Whining kids.

Meals to cook.

Dust bunnies to round up.

Work to do.

I have to readjust myself now. My mindset. Those millions of times I called my mom during the day? They now have to be replaced with something else. But right now, it’s just a lurch in my heart. A sinking in my stomach. A shocking realization…”Oh yeah”.

She’s dead. My mom is gone forever. I’ll never see her again. I’ll never talk to her again. I’ll never fight with her again or hang up the phone in exasperation from her again.

She’s gone.

My life will be forever changed.

I am motherless.

And no matter how old we get, women need their mommies.

I am the recipient of her beautiful rings. Maybe some of her fabulous shoes, if they fit.

I don’t care.

Yes, I’m grateful for the time I had with her, especially since she outlived her original 5-7 year prognosis by 20 something years. It wasn’t long enough though.

I will forever live my life guided by wisdom she imparted on me.

But, it’s not the same. It never will be.

My mom is gone.

Dead.

I’ll never see her again.

It may get easier.

It does get better.

But she’s still gone forever.

I’m having the hardest time wrapping my brain around that fact.

Comments

comments

Comments

  1. Stephanie says

    Melissa, my heart breaks for you. I had the same kind of relationship with my dad that you had with your mom. And when he died in 1999, I didn’t know how I could go on. Multiple times picking up the phone and couldn’t hear his voice anymore. I was afraid I would forget what it was like to talk to him, to hug him, or what his face looked like. The good news is, it gets better. The bad news is, the ache will never leave you. You are, however, really fortunate to have had the kind of love with your mom that leaves that ache to remind you what a part of you she will always be. It just plain sucks when a parent dies. It makes you lonely. Talk about her every day. Smile about her. Think about what she might say or do. And in that way she stays alive a little bit. Even though it’s not anywhere near the same, it does help a little. Still, as I sit here all these years after losing my dad, I know how hard this road will be for you and I’m so, so sorry. XO Love, Stephanie

  2. Melissa says

    I am so very sorry, Melissa. You can absolutely feel your pain through this post. Echoing much of what Stephanie said, it will and it won’t get better. There’s nothing like the loss of a parent who was so very much loved, as your mother obviously was. (I lost my dad when I was 15 and hardly a day goes by without thinking of him still.) I’m also 42 and can’t imagine losing my mom too. My heart breaks for you as I wish you peace and comfort. Again, my deepest sympathies.
    Melissa´s last blog post ..Bloggers, Consider Yourself Hugged

  3. Jim Ferris says

    My sincerest sympathies, Melissa. I know the feeling well.

    In June of ’99 I lost my mother. There was no protracted illness. There was no serious medical history. She simply went to bed Tuesday night and didn’t wake up Wednesday morning.

    I think what killed her more than her drinking was loneliness. Within the space of 3 months she lost her husband (my stepdad) and her mother. My mother was very much a people person, and living alone was an uneasy place for her.

    Like you, I had those phone calls I wanted to make that I’ll never be able to make again. Songs that remind me of her. A joke that would make her roll on the floor in laughter. Her hugs and her back scratches…but no more.

    In the last 11 years the desire to make those phone calls has subsided, but she’s never far from mind. It doesn’t help that I now live…on the same street…less than 1/4 mile away from where we lived as a kid and that merely driving by that house can send me back in time.

    The feeling of loss never really goes away.

    She was 55.

  5. Rada says

    I had to spend this Saturday in the hospital with my mom and all this time while there I thought of you and how I am not ready to lose my mom.
    I know as kids we have to let our parents go, but it’s been the hardest time for me to let my dad go, it’s been 16 years and still I have the need to talk him, and I can’t imagine that one day I will have to go through what you just went to.
    Rada´s last blog post ..The List.

  7. Momzombie says

    I lost my father 16 years ago this month. The grieving process is painful but also it teaches you some valuable life lessons. I miss my father so much even still. I am working hard to treasure the time I have with my remaining parent. Much love and peace to you. Ride the waves. Cross the lake of fire.

  8. Amy says

    Thinking of you Melissa, I know you’re hurting. I don’t have any words that will offer real comfort, but I’m always here for you if you need anything.

  9. Elizabeth V. Wheelock says

    So sorry to hear the news, I’ll pray for you that it will get better. When my parents moved to Florida back in ’03’, I was with child with my youngest one. almost due. That wasn’t a happy day for me; being the youngest girl, out of eight kids, the seventh one. Well, back in March this year; my Dad, passed away! I knew he was going soon, but what hurt me the most; is that I couldn’t even go to his funeral. Didn’t have the funds to do so! Another part that hurt me is he didn’t get to meet my youngest. I’ve sent pictures; he did get to talk to him on the phone. But; he never got to meet him in person. I totally agree that no matter how old we get; we still need our mom. May God Bless, and take care!

  10. Jennifer says

    I remember sitting after my father passed away with a watershed of tears streaming down my face and thinking “this just can’t be right.” I sat like that a lot. For a long time. But then one day I didn’t.

    The one piece of advice I can really offer is to take the time to grieve. No really. TAKE THE TIME. Not based on someone else’s schedule or what you think the schedule should be, but for however long it takes. You are not on a time table. It takes what it takes. This make not make sense now, but I promise you that it will.
    Jennifer´s last blog post ..I’m back from BlogHer

  14. Nikki Stephan says

    Saying a prayer for you and your family and sending you lots of love. I lost my mom unexpectedly 2 1/2 years ago, and the wound is feeling really fresh again as I’m less than three weeks out from my wedding.

    You’re right – no matter how old we get, women still need their mommies. Yet we all aren’t fortunate enough to have our moms here with us until we’re old and gray.

    But everything happens for a reason, and everything that doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I promise.
    Nikki Stephan´s last blog post ..One Thing That Should Remain Constant As Our Loves in Life Change

  18. lceel says

    Oh, Melissa, I am so sorry. I never met her, but knowing you as I do, I can’t help but feel she must have been a remarkable woman, for that’s what you are and you didn’t get to be that way all by yourself. May she Rest In Peace. And may you find peace, as well.
    lceel´s last blog post ..Monday Meanders 8-8

  20. The Culture Mom says

    Melissa, I am so sorry for your loss. I have the same relationship with my mother and I would be in exactly the same boat. It sounds like you had an incredible relationship full of love that will last a lifetime. I’m sure it will be hard for some time. Let yourself mourn. But I’m sure she would want you to live. You are still standing on this earth, so live in her memory and do it well.

    May you live a long life.

    (and I missed you dearly at BlogHer. I knew there was something missing.)
    The Culture Mom´s last blog post ..My Impressions of BlogHer 2011 – the Good and the Bad

  21. Kanrenmeg says

    Hi Melissa-been thinking about you and The sadness that I know is heavy in your heart. Losing a beloved parent sucks and you and your mom were so close – I wasn’t as close withmy Dadin the same way but I still grieve for him and wish for the sound of his voice often even after two and a half years. It will get better but a part of you won’t ever stop grieving -just let yourself, give it time and be easy on yourself, girlfriend. Xoxo

  22. Keonte' says

    Oh Melissa, there’s never anything comforting enough to say in these situations. I’ll say a prayer for you and your family. I can’t pretend I know how you feel. Just know that you are loved!

  24. Jodie Ansted says

    I’m so sorry to hear about your mum.

    When I was 7mths old, my sister – then 17 – died in a car accident. Obviously, it was a terrible, terrible loss for my parents and my older sister, who was 21 at the time.

    My mother has always said: “Over time, the pain of losing someone gets and less and less, but you never, ever forget them. Ever.” And I think that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

    Right now, for you, it’s too early to even contemplate how you’ll feel in the future. It’s ok to live in this moment and mourn and to feel really, really sad right now. And to miss your Mum like crazy. That’s human nature. Embrace it. But know that the pain will ease in time.

    x
    Jodie Ansted´s last blog post ..Tips for Ski Trips with the Kids

  26. Lindsey says

    I am so sorry for your loss. You can tell just by reading this post how much she meant to you and how big the hole is in your life. It will get easier, but there will still be hard days. It does get better, but there will still be bad times. You will make it through this.
    Lindsey´s last blog post ..Monday

  27. Rajean says

    Melissa, like all the others, you have my heartfelt sympathy. But I share that reading your post makes me realize how fortunate we all are to have those we’re close to & love in our lives – when they’re here and when they’re not. I hope I can help console you by saying I want to learn to cherish time together on earth a bit more today than I did before reading your honest reflections.

    I hope you’ll honor your life-long & beyond relationship with your mom by talking about her, sharing her with us, with your children. I hope that’s what my children do. I want them to laugh about me, about our times together. I want them to think about what I might say in certain situations. I want them to talk about me. Love & hugs.
    Rajean´s last blog post ..Pay It Forward – Artful Networking

  29. Jen says

    Melissa,

    How sad, I am so sorry.

    I cannot begin to imagine the pain of your loss, although I felt it in your words as I read the news. The more we love the heavier the grief, and our Mom’s well..the loss is profound.

    I hope over time the good memories of your Mom will replace the pain of her death and bring you some measure of peace and comfort.
    Jen´s last blog post ..do you see the poor as i do?

  32. Carissa says

    I would totally come clean your dust bunnies for you. And then just talk well listen. Listen to all the mom stories you must have. 🙂

    So sorry for this loss. Huge.
    Hugs.

  33. Sweaty says

    Dear Melissa, I don’t think there are words that would take away the pain of losing someone you loved as much as you loved your mother. I’m so sorry for your loss, and I hope that in time the pain will ease a little and you will be able to remember all the good times you had spent with her, all the precious memories, with a peaceful heart and knowledge that she is now in a better place.
    Sweaty´s last blog post ..Thoughtful Thursday and other Thursday Hops

  36. Kim says

    Melissa..

    I saw the title of this post when you first pushed it live, however, I couldn’t get past the first few lines… So I closed it and said I would go back.. I thought about it, how painful i knew it was going to be because you bring real emotion into your writing and I was not ready to be faced with words I know I will be feeling soon.

    There are no words for losing your Mom that I can say that will ever, ever make the pain go away. I don’t know how you were able to get the courage up to even shower.. I wanted you to know how very, very sorry I am for your loss. I wish I could hug you and tell you all the politically correct things and it that would miracoulsy make you smile and be ok.. but neither can really happen.. so please accept my thoughts of comfort and prayer that it gets a little bit easier.. Big hugs to you my friend.. xoxoxoxox

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