1/365 January 1, 2017

With the new year here I decided to revisit this poor, neglect blog of mine.  I realized, I didn't have a single entry for 2016 and the entries for 2015 were almost nonexistent.  How could I have gone 2 years without anything to write about? Then I started to go over the past years in my head. Mom and Dad's many health issues. Dad getting a pacemaker. Mom's Cancer diagnose and the year long fight that followed before it went into remission. Everything leading up to August and the fall mom had that lead to a hip replacement and ending in September with a blood infection, the return of her Leukemia, and her death.

I hadn't realized how much it meant to know that my Mom was there, around the corner, to listen or laugh with or just give a hug. It's not really the need for her that makes this a loss. It's the idea that the woman that took care of me as a child, that helped to create who I am and how I view the world, is no longer there. We have our mother all of our existence, until suddenly, we are motherless. It's a new chapter in life. Whether or not I agreed with my mom's views, I was used to measuring my opinions against hers. When she gave encouragement or advice I could be happy for the help. When I disagreed, I could remind myself how different we were.

The problem was that, after the initial grief, the idea that my mom no longer existed on this earth seemed to shake my view of life. Everyone knows that someday their mother will die. The thing that hit me was that a whole, major part of my life was over. Every part of the relationship and connection was over. As memories spring into my mind, I realize that was past, and never will be again. I might be driving down the road and see a garage sale sign. This triggers my memory. Then I realize that now, it is just a memory, and my mom will never be able to join me, or even reminisce with me.

Why does this revelation hit me so hard? I've experienced death before, but it's something about the fact that it's my mom. I admit I miss the understanding ear, the soft shoulder and smiles that made me feel like everything would be alright. I think it's that my mom was a touchstone. I've lost an important touchstone in my life, and I realize that life is always changing and I'm not sure what's next. I think of things I wish I'd said and questions I wish I'd asked.

So many times I hear others talk of their moms and I silently whisper to myself, appreciate her while you have her. I have spoken the words aloud at times, but I fear the true import of the message cannot be understood until it is experienced. At least I had my mom for a good portion of my life. Some lose their moms way to early and that grief and loss cannot be compared to losing a mom that is older. I thought I was prepared, but my mind and body did things I didn't expect. Grief takes its own time and its own course with each of us. Life is precious. Live each day and each moment like it could be the last. You may have years before you experience the loss of your mom or another loved one, but those years will be filled with precious moments.

Your mother is your first friend and playmate. She’s the one who rocked you as a baby, patched you up as a clumsy kid, and eased your heart as a teen. She helped coached you on the ins and outs of being a first-time mother. In a sense, your mother is the biggest part of your life.

Nothing can prepare you for what it’s like to lose your mom. I’ve had many friends throughout the years who have lost their own mothers. I felt sad for them and offered words of comfort. I had absolutely no idea though how excruciating it is to no longer have your mother with you. The pain is crippling, and it hits you at random moments. One minute you might be fine, and the next minute you are curled up in a ball in inconceivable pain. If you have lost your mother, then you’re probably sitting there nodding your head in agreement.

My mother passed away on September 16^th, 2016. I thought I was prepared for Mom’s passing. I read all the books on death, dying, and grief. I knew it would be hard, but I figured I was ready to face it head-on. After all, losing a parent is a fact of life that millions of people before me have faced. Mom was very brave. I was going to be brave too. I thought I would grieve for a while, and then I would be able to move on with life. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

The first few days after your mother dies are going to feel like a blur. You will function only in that you will help make funeral arrangements, contact relatives, console family members, and go forward taking care of necessary tasks. Numbness is the perfect word for this time. The funeral will come and go, and so will the relatives and well-wishers.

After the burial, it’s time for life to go back to normal, right? Wrong! Life will never be normal again. It will be different, but it will never be as it was. How could it be?

For the first few weeks, your friends and coworkers will be wonderful. They’ll offer you lots of smiles and hugs. They’ll offer to take you to dinner and they’ll listen as you talk about how bad the pain is. You’ll hear a lot of “I’m here for you”, and “If there’s anything I can do” comments during this time.

After a couple months, it will seem like people have forgotten that you lost this important part of your life. They’ll stop asking how you are, and they might even look worried when you want to talk about your mom. You see, people who haven’t gone through this pain think there’s a period of grieving and that's it. After a certain time, you should be ready to move on with your life and "get over it."

But you will never get over it. The pain will lessen, and the moments of intense grief will be farther apart, but how can you ever get over losing your mother

Allow Yourself to Feel What You Feel

Well-intentioned people will try to speed up the grieving process for you. They’ll try to keep you busy, and some of them won’t mention your mother’s name for fear of hurting you. But you must allow yourself to grieve. If you try to stay busy and put it out of your mind, it will catch up to you. You’re going to feel it at some point. It’s best to let it happen when it happens.

After Mom died, I tried to push away the grief. Any time I felt like falling apart, I would take deep breaths and get busy with something else. This worked for a little while, but not for long. The pain was not going away, and I needed to feel it. One night—a month after Mom’s death—I was sitting at dinner  with my husband and children. The kids were talking about their day, and I was trying to actively listen. I felt like my chest was going to explode. I knew what it was, but was trying to ignore it. You see, grief is a very physical thing. You literally feel physical pain. I finally couldn’t take it anymore, and I got up and ran to my bedroom. After that night, I learned to allow myself to feel the pain. I didn’t ignore it anymore.

Don't Put a Time Limit on Your Grief

There is no right or wrong way to grieve, and there's no set time limit on the process.The old saying "Time heals all wounds" is not entirely accurate, but not entirely inaccurate either. I don't know if the wound of losing a mother is ever healed. The pain does get more bearable over time. But how long it should take? No one can say.

Remember Your Mom

That heading sounds silly. Of course, you're going to remember your mom. She was your mom! What I mean here is that you should remember your mom for who she was—the good and the bad.

I spent weeks remembering my mom as this perfect human being who was, by far, the greatest mother who ever walked the earth. Mom was a wonderful person, but let's face it, she's was human. After a few weeks, I started having memories of the real mother I grew up with. She wasn't perfect, and we didn't always get along. Mom had a knack for being negative toward me, and I wasn't always patient with her. Putting Mom up on a pedestal wasn't fair to her, and she would've hated it.

Yes, remembering the bad times isn't always easy. Regret may rear its ugly head, but there's nothing you can do about it now. You can't push it away, because like the grief, it will find you. As they say, it is what it is. My mom knew I loved her dearly, and I knew the same about her. We didn't have the perfect relationship, but in the end, I was there by her side. I watched as she took her last breath, just as she watched me take my first. She was my mother. The good, the bad, and the ugly ... she was my mother, and I loved her.

Allow Yourself to Have Bad Days

It's now been three months since Mom passed away. I miss her dearly. I hold up pretty well, though. I can laugh and smile as I tell my kids something Mom used to say when I was a child. I would say, I'm doing pretty well.

Some days are tougher than others. One reason I wrote this is that yesterday was a particularly rough day for me. I woke up craving my mother's voice. I wanted to call her and hear her laugh. I wanted her to make me laugh.  I needed her yesterday. I cried several times yesterday, and it was okay. I let myself feel the grief again. Those days will come, no matter how long it's been. Let it come.

Smile and Live Your Life

At some point after your mother's death, you will find reasons to smile again. I think this is one of the greatest things we can do to honor our moms and the love we have for them. Find joy again. Laugh heartily. Love deeply. Live like your mother would want you to.

On those days when you just miss your mom, don't fight it. Allow yourself to miss her. 

 "Your mother deserves to be remembered. She deserves to be missed."

I love you mommy and I miss you so much........