I want to
start by apologizing in advance to my husband. You always say that when my
entries are sad that it makes you sad. I don’t like making you sad. I am hoping
to turn it around soon.
Someone told
me that I can’t expect to work through it all in less than a year. I need to
give myself time. He knows from experience. I am impatient.
As the days
tick away, I am getting closer and closer to May 7th. With each
passing day, I am reminded of what I was doing one year ago. Sometimes it feels
like I am living it all over again. I guess in some ways I am. I wonder if that
will fade with time? As always, I’ll let you know if it does.
These past
few days I’ve been remembering the worst day of my life. No it wasn’t the day
she left, it was the day we were supposed to remember her and let her go. That
was the worst day.
I may have
written about it before. I will never forget that day, that confusing and
horrible day.
It was a
warm sunny day. Our kids weren’t going so our babysitter came to stay with
them. She came too fast that day. We left with some relatives in the backseat
so the drive wasn’t bad. We talked and remembered. No tears. Just talk. The
kind of talk where if you don’t keep it going then you are too aware of the
silence.
I seriously
had a sick stomach when we pulled into the driveway of what we always call my
mom’s house. I knew when I walked into that house, she wasn’t going to be there
and it was my job to take over.
Food
arrived, people arrived. People I had not seen in years and years. Some I never
thought I would see again. I put on my happy, it’s okay, she’s in a better
place face. I hated that face. Time went by so fast but at the same time it was
going slow. Kind of like I was on the outside watching the slow motion version.
It was time
to go.
We arrived
at the funeral home. I hate that funeral home. I had trouble going in the back
door the night before. In fact, I didn’t go in. My husband held my hand and
said “let’s try another door.” We walked around to the front. We were the only
ones in the front. The lobby was full of people who were there because my mom
meant something to them. Mom would have been surprised. She told me that she
didn’t think many would show up. She was wrong. We walked up to the glass
doors, I saw all of the people and my feet stopped. I didn’t belong there. No
one thinks they do, but really, I didn’t belong there. My mom wasn’t supposed
to die. We had too much to do still. I should have been at her house with her
being her daughter.
My husband
had to go inside. He tried to get me to walk through the doors and just stand.
If I walked through those doors, I knew it was all over. So I planted my feet
and waited outside.
Suddenly, I
was all alone. I just stood there looking at all the people inside looking at
me.
I just stood
there all by myself.
I retreated
to the side and waited. I don’t know for what. Maybe I thought that if I didn’t
go in, then we could just keep going like nothing happened. The funeral
director came out and said very nicely that he would wait as long as I needed.
I tried to get him to bring the party outside to me. Silly girl.
Somehow, the
love of my life inched me inside. I stood by the reception desk. I was hoping
that the lady there would whisk me away. She didn’t. I know people came up to
me. I don’t remember all of them but I do remember telling them all that I can’t
go inside. No one told me I didn’t have to. That made me angry. Not at them, I
was just angry that I had to be there. They didn’t understand, most of them
still had their moms.
We went in
and I just remember looking down the whole time. It felt like all eyes were on
me and everyone was feeling sorry for me. I would have left if I had been by
the door.
If I had to
do it all over again, I would have sat outside. I didn’t belong inside. My mom
and I did everything together and she wasn’t there this time. So if I could go
back, I would have found her tree and sat there until it was all over. Selfish?
Maybe, but that’s how I would have done it.
That was and
remains the worst day of my life. I hate that day. I hate that there was a
white box with the remains of my mom in it sitting in a room. Mom wasn’t there,
but I was.
That day is
running through my brain like a television show these days. I remember it,
maybe not all of it, but I remember. That was the day my mom wasn’t there. That
was the day that I felt alone.
I don’t know
what to expect of myself as I get closer to the anniversary. I do find myself
crying a little more. Will it be a dark day or will it just be a day. I have
nothing planned and I don’t intend to. May 7 falls on a Tuesday. I will get up
and take my kids to school. I’ll come home and do what I do. I’ll be alone.
Today I think that is fitting. I may think different tomorrow. I won’t go to
the cemetery, I don’t have a yard right now to plant a tree. That day will be
another day, right?
Life here goes on.
But then
that is how it should be.
I haven’t
been doing much in the way of fundraising these days. I haven’t had the energy.
Living pancreatic cancer everyday has been difficult. I haven’t given up. I am
taking a much needed rest. When the time is right, I will continue on. I have a
million dollars to raise. I have to make sense of that horrible day.
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