I sit at my kitchen table. In front of me is my laptop and my cup of coffee which is slowly growing cold. I’m just staring, thinking, listening to cats meow and the washing machine gently whirring.
Today is one of those days. The kind that is bittersweet yet shouldn’t be.
I dropped my nervous son off at school, leaving him in the hands of a new teacher who looks like she should still be in second grade herself.
When I was certain he would be OK, I kissed him and left. Not before volunteering to be head room mother…yet again. To my son it’s important that I’m involved in his school. To me, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I walked back to my car, shivering against the cool fall air that is making itself known as it nudges the summer away, leaving in its wake memories of the scent of chlorine and the sound of carefree laughter.
I sit in my car for a second and take a deep breath. I’ve been waiting for a few weeks to have my own routine back. And finally, it’s arrived. But almost too quickly.
My heart skips a beat. I feel like I’m forgetting something. Something important. Something that I always do after I drop my son off at school.
Instinctually, I reach for my phone.
Then my heart sinks and tears well up.
This time, every single day, after I have dropped my son off…
I call my mom. To see how she is. To discuss the difficulties and wonders of my children. To just hear her voice and reassure myself that she is OK.
But she isn’t here anymore.
The reality is startling. It takes me a minute to catch my breath and regroup.
School breaks, for some reason, were always a time when I didn’t talk to or see my mom as much as I did during the school year. So, even though she died in August and my life changed dramatically…it was OK because I was surrounded by my children and my husband. The kept my physically and emotionally busy, leaving me to only think about my mom during lulls in the day.
But now? The void is unmistakeable. It is tremendous and gaping.
I ache for my mom.
I keep thinking that she’ll be back, this is only a vacation. Because she can’t really be gone. Not forever. Not permanently.
She is though. All those millions of phone calls during the day, all the visits to her house…
No longer.
Which leaves me with empty moments, dark holes in my day that were once lovingly filled.
So here I sit. Alone at last. A quiet house. My computer. My coffee. My laundry.
And I’m a lost little girl, alone and scared, at least for the next few hours.
I know, I’ll get used to it. But I’ll never REALLY get used to it.
My “me” time used to include my mom in so many different ways.
Now, my “me” time is just…not the same.
But life continues moving rapidly forward, leaving just memories of what used to be and promises of what’s to come.
I guess I have to shake myself off and move forward with the rest of life.
It’s just so damn hard right now.
I know it’s hard, Melissa. We don’t realize how often we think of someone until they are gone. My heart is with you.
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HUG.
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I remember sitting in my house after my dad died hoping that it was all just a bad dream and that he would be back. Surely it couldn’t be for real that he was gone. I think that is one of the ways our psyche protects us from the loss, but not fully realizing that it is real until we’ve gotten more used to the idea. Big hugs my friend. Great big hugs.
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Hugs!
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First time reading your blog. I’m really sorry about your mom.
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Oh hon. I’m sorry! I only wish I could have some sort of relationship with my Mom even HALF like the one you had with yours. It kills me that she’s alive and well (after surviving a deadly, aggressive cancer) and yet I’ll never get through to her…never cut through all her b.s. to have a real, meaningful, adult relationship with her.
You’ll find your new “normal”, hon. You’re one of the strongest women I know!!!
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I agree; you’ll never REALLY get used to it. Cherish those memories. Huge hugs to you.
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Melissa, my heart breaks for you because I know what you’re going through. Time heals but the scars remain. I like to think that the scars are there to make sure we don’t forget them. She is there, she is watching, she is listening. I believe that. Look for her in your dreams. XOXO
My heart goes out to you. I have a close relatiinship with my mom. Only problem is that she lives in Florida, and she can’t hear very well, even with a hearing aid. Which is hard. I have kept in touch through letters, but it’s not the same as having a conversation with her. And actually getting to see her would be better. Prayers, and thoughts are with you.
Oh Missy, this so, so hard. It will be better, even if your pain will never go away it will be better.
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