Today I feel
like I am spent. I really feel like I have nothing more to say, but then that
isn’t true because here I am typing.
My mom took
center stage last night in a dream. I didn’t like the dream. She was dying. She
wanted my dad, brother and me beside her and when we gathered, she fell face
first into the pillow. I must have been sleeping that way because it seems
strange that I would dream it like that. In the next instance, she was up
walking around, still dying, but not dead. She mumbled but never really talked.
What does all of that mean? I have no idea.
I cried a
lot yesterday, just missed her too much. It seems like each month that passes, I
miss her more. I thought it was supposed to get better. At least that is what
everyone, and I mean everyone has been telling me. So far, they are wrong. It
has been four months. Four really long months. My husband says it has gone by
fast. Not for me. I use to call her on my way home from work. She was either
first or second on my list of people to call when I had news. My biggest fan is
gone….still. I wish God would let her come back, just for one minute, to tell
me how to be. It won’t happen and I know that, but still, I wish it would.
I have a
great life. I can’t complain but then most people say that and then turn around
and complain about something. Really, I am blessed and I try not to take
anything for granted. I am just sad. Not all the time, but in spurts. It’s the
same as when she was sick; I was never sad for long stretches. I think I save
my sad days up and then let them all come out at once. I don’t do it intentionally;
I just have so much other stuff that I have to push the sad back and keep
moving. I’m guessing it isn’t the healthiest way to deal, but it just sort of
happens. I have considered grief counseling. It doesn’t appeal to me, but it
could help. There is a class at my church. As luck would have it, it meets at
night when we have soccer practice. By the way did I mention that I volunteered
to coach my daughter’s soccer team? Clearly I love to pile things on. So grief counseling
at my church is out. I’ll keep writing. I’ll either figure it out or someone
will tell me I am doing it wrong.
I think
there have just been too many firsts that have happened and I miss telling my
mom. People say that she sees us, that she knows what is going on. I’ve said it
before, I don’t think so. If the folks in Heaven were able to watch us, know
what is going on, they would be heartbroken at the sight of their loved ones
grieving and struggling to build this new puzzle we were all given. If that
were the case, then Heaven wouldn’t really be Heaven would it? No, my mom is
living peacefully, without worry, pain, suffering or heartache. My mom is in
Heaven. I know that for sure. Selfishly, I wish she was here. I am wondering
what that says about me. I am wishing that my mom leave Gods Kingdom and come
back…here. Who would ever want to do that? I am happy for her and I look
forward to our reunion, many, many, many years down the road but all I want is
60 seconds.
I mentioned
a puzzle a few lines ago. I love puzzles. As I type, my daughter is putting one
together with joy and contentment. I don’t like this puzzle that I’ve been
given. It doesn’t want to go together. I am starting to think that the pieces
don’t fit. I never wanted it, but it is here and I have to figure it out. My
Granny and I would put puzzles together and when one piece wouldn’t fit, she
would jam it in and move on. There may be a lesson here. I’ll have to think
about it.
I'm tired, I think I'll put the puzzle away for now. It is just too much for this particular
moment. I’ll try again tomorrow.
Last night,
as I was getting my son ready for bed, he told me that of all the moms, I am
the best. I asked, “How many moms do you know?” He held up five fingers and
then pointed to his thumb. “But this one is you mom.” As silly as it sounds, I
am proud to be his most favorite thumb mom. In that moment, I felt loved and I
felt joy.
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