My Boulder, My Memories, My Stupid Dream

I wonder if grief is the same for everyone. I should back up here and let you know that I have moved past the grief. It has become clear to me that others have not and this is bothering me and causing me to feel sad. Not sad all of the time, but sad when I see that they are stuck. Sad because I don’t know what to do at this point.

People grieve for different things, so I guess I can assume that the process is basically the same but different for everyone. Obviously I have grieved for my mom. In the past I grieved for a lost pet, unwanted change and anything that just goes away. Ok, if I cut my fingernails I don’t grieve over that. You know what I mean, those things that mattered deeply and then just one day they are gone. Death is a different grief……or is it?

In the past month, I have followed several with pancreatic cancer who have passed on. I have continued to follow as they have dealt with their loss, their grief. Some appear to just pick up where their “life before pc” left off. Some are angry, all are hurt and many are lost. Some have found new paths, some have found new love. Are they finished grieving? When do you just know that your are finished? 

Along time ago I talked about the book 700 Sundays by Billy Crystal and how he described his grief in terms of a giant boulder that he drug around. I know that boulder. My husband asked me the other day if mine was smaller. My answer was simple. “No, it’s still the same size. I can just manage it now.”

Others are struggling to manage their boulder and I am standing in the wings watching. I can’t tell them how to manage it, frankly I don’t even know how I manage mine. I feel like I am watching a slow death. I am worried. What do I do? 

I try to be careful about what I write about, I leave off names and I only write about MY struggles. This one is hard because it isn’t about me, I need advice but I absolutely can’t spell out the problem.

I am being vague and I apologize. This is just something that I am going to have to figure out on my own.

I on the other hand I AM finally in a happy place. My light bulb when on not too long ago, ‘what do I really have to be sad about?’

Nothing.

Yes, two years ago on May 7^th, my mom left this world for Heaven. Two years isn’t a long time and I feel it. She was just here the other day, she was just telling me what I should do, She was just laughing and asking about my babies. She isn’t here,  she is at peace. 

I’m trying not to dwell because that isn’t the place I am in right now. I am down and some have noticed. I don’t mean to be but it just sort of swept over me. I’ll pick up soon. I refuse to grieve one more day. “Cry a little bit Carole, then move on. Don’t be sad for long.” That is what I am doing. I wish others could do that to. 

I’ve spent a lot of time writing about how wonderful and kind and perfect she was. So on this 2 year anniversary I am going to close with some not-so-perfect things about my mom. Don’t get me wrong, she still is THE best mom and I remember every good time. I also remember her funnier moments.

My mom had a touch of road rage. I may be the only one who will admit it but she did. I never told her but I didn’t like riding with her. She was fairly cautious, no wrecks, no tickets, but she had a tendency to get very angry very quickly at the other drivers “who shouldn’t be on the road if they can’t drive?” Even in my adult years she still put her hand across me when she slammed on her breaks. She could also drive a stick, not very well. I loved her power steering.

My mom was once licked by a cow. She didn’t like cows.

I believe she told me that when she was young her brother went through a series of pets/farm animals. She had nothing against them but she said that she managed to run over all of them at some point, yes even the cow.

She loved to listen to “elevator music”. Pretty, but not when you are a kid who was wanting to sing “Another One Bites The Dust”.

She had an artificial stirrup in her ear. Apparently I almost caused her to go deaf after I was born.

My mom could do just about anything and everything she tried……almost. She could throw a ball but never looked smooth doing it. She once threw a flower pot across the room, it was stress and it was wildly funny. In that moment, she sailed it

.

She couldn’t pronounce sheriff properly and I never saw her do a cartwheel.

I have a great mom, imperfections and all.

I have more but I’ll save it for another day. 

Thank you for reading and allowing me to work through myself these past two years. Thank you for your comments, support and shoulders. I miss my mom and I know the others do too, we always will. I am better, I am living without her. That is hard to say, harder to do.

She was in a dream of mine the other night. She wasn’t sick and she was at my “renew my wedding vows” event. (I’m not doing that, once did the trick). In the dream she thought it was her event. I was dumbfounded and confused as to what I should do. As I was standing next to my mom, watching me walk down the aisle (remember this is a dream, it isn’t supposed to make sense), she leaned over to speak. In my dreamy head I thought ‘here it is, I’ve waited two years for her to speak to me and tell me what to do’. What profound wisdom was she going to lay on me? 

“Carole, of all the dresses you have ever worn, that is by far the ugliest one.”

I love you Mom. Your presence is wanted but not needed. I’ll see you later.