Well, here goes.
As the calendar speeds closer and closer to the one year anniversary of my mother's death, I become both more agitated and more quiet inside.
I shall confess here to a little magical thinking - when the year is up... POOF! I will be able to take off my figurative "widow weeds" and move on.
The difference in the grieving process between my parents is so...well, different. Silly me for thinking they would be the same.
The edge of grief that is my father's death is dull and rarely causes pain anymore. Could it be because his, though sudden, was expected? He had an incurable cancer, there was no question it would kill him. Maybe it's because it's been 13 years.
Just yesterday, the song "Addicted to Love" came over the airwaves while I was shopping and it made me smile - because my dad knew and liked that song from his late nights watching VH1.
My mother's march to death was sad and slow and destroyed every bit of the person she used to be.
This grief regularly dropkicks me.
At the costume jewelry section in Kohl's, at restaurants where we used to eat, sometimes passing neighborhoods we used to drive through looking at houses.
Boston Terriers. Beaded Christmas ornaments. Cookie books. The smell of coconut custard. Jello salad. Barbie dolls. Old school script handwriting. Fabric stores. Tea with milk. When I'm driving (Your father would have gone then.).
Everywhere. Every day.
Oh Kim... Have you read some of the near-death experiences online, stories of people who visited Heaven for just a little bit? Perhaps those would encourage you about your mom because now she is the best she's ever been, sharp as a tack mentally, beautiful and at her prime (most people say that folks in Heaven usually look to be around 30 - 40, you know, like when most of us look our best here). These stories and what the Bible says about Heaven comfort me so much about my loved ones who live there now and make me excited in the meantime as I wait to see them again. Just a thought.... I'm so glad you're blogging again because I, too, was going to tell you that I've missed your quirky posts. You are a blessing to many of us! Hugs, Debra
ReplyDeleteMight as well face it...and yet despite these sniper attacks of sorrow, you continue to live a gracious beautiful life. Or that's what I see.
ReplyDeleteRegarding the magical one-year mark, there may be something to that. And not to be morbid but in the hopeful, "cheerfully awaiting" sense, it means you're that much closer to seeing her again.
Anon cp