I miss my mom. I have been the last few days…a lot. It just now – at this moment – occurred to me that it was two years ago this week that she came to stay here after her diagnosis. It’s kind of bittersweet because it was a blessing to have her here for two months but she really only came here to die. Mom missed her independence most of all. She hated to need help. I think I miss her more now. I suppose that’s because I’ve reached a point that I’m allowing myself to think about her more and not close those thoughts out. I think we tend to do that when we lose someone…sometimes it helps to not think about them too much because I think the pain would be overwhelming. It’s hard to believe that in a little over two months she will have been gone two years. I need this blog as much now as I did when I first started it.
I can’t even begin to touch the feelings I have right now. It’s not sadness…it’s more like just a huge hurting emptiness. Mom would have understood. I never gave her enough credit for her intuitions. I’m lying in bed and it’s dark and very still and very quiet and I’m glad I’m here and awake because I needed this time to process what I’m feeling and try to hold on to thoughts of her before a new day begins and I ignore them again.
I remember her face whenever she had visitors stop by. She’d be so excited. She was pretty lonely even with eleven kids. We’re all adults and get busy in our lives and although everyone was good about calling or stopping by…there was still a lot of alone time. I don’t really know how she did it. It’s easy to look back with regrets of what I wish I’d done or should have done…but that’s not a purpose well served. Instead I’m just contemplating her and her life. I’m dozing off to sleep because it’s late and I’m tired…and I’m hearing her voice. The first time since she died that I felt as if I could hear her talking to me. I’m probably making little sense if at all. I’m remembering as I lie in bed…the times as a little girl that I would wake up from a nightmare and tiptoe into my parent’s room and stand next to my mom’s side of the bed and quietly wake just her…and she would hold the blankets up so that I could crawl into bed with her – and the world was soon ok again. I think that’s a beautiful thought tonight for imagery. Anyway…sleep is calling…