Today is hard. I read that short sentence and think about how many posts I used to start that way. Quite a few. Not so much anymore, but today – I did. It’s my favorite time of year. It’s also the time of year Mom came to stay while she was sick. October until shortly before Christmas. In hind sight I guess it was pretty amazing to have her here in the autumn – as well as pretty apropos. The last couple of days though have been especially hard. I’ll be in the middle of doing something and feel the urge to tell my mom something or ask her something and just as quickly I’ll remember she’s not here to ask. It happens more than it used to. I think the loss goes in stages or phases or whatever you want to call it. Each is a bit different but similar. The first year you’re so buried in grief that you don’t feel so much. You’re numb. Then that second year comes along and the pain is so overwhelming at times that you don’t know how you’ll bear it. This third year has been overall a respite from the dark and the sadness but there are more times like this in which I think about her still being here. And right now I miss her so much. And I’m angry. I’m hurting. I’m in the lashing out mode but I’ve never been good at that so it’s all bottled up inside. That’s when the tears just fall. I haven’t had a good cry in a long time. That’s another side to all of it. You subconsciously have it building up inside over time and eventually the tears come out. I don’t know. Sometimes it just doesn’t feel like it matters what I feel like. I’m at that point too where I’ve put the timeline on myself and said “no more grieving”. Well screw that. It’s a bit unhealthy and something I always advocate against for other people – but I hold myself to these impossible standards in everything for some ridiculous reason (I have definite ideas of why) but which just don’t matter anymore. Tonight I just want to bury myself away and not be. I’m so angry. Not even just for mom but for the huge chunk of my life – our lives – that was torn away in that short two year span. Aunt Dolores, Aunt Audrey, Aunt Pat, Aunt Velma, Aunt Nancy, Aunt Grace, Uncle Max, Uncle Les, Bob, Mom and Maddie. My young cousin’s husband. It seemed like every time I breathed someone was gone. And I’m angry. I’m angry that I feel like a mixed up mess. I’m angry I’ve gained weight. I’m angry there are days I can’t pull it out of myself to just be good enough for myself. And I’m angry that I care. No – it’s really just not a good day today.