11/19/21

It’s 4:46pm and it’s so dark outside. By 6pm, it will feel like midnight and I’ll likely want to bundle up in layers and snuggle under my blankets. I guess there is no reason not to other than it’s our week with the kids so I may need to do some parenty things.

I don’t even know where to begin. I’m back home, back in my life, but my life has forever changed. There is a general malaise hanging over me, like I should be doing something else at all times, and I shouldn’t just be living my life again. One day mom was there and then she wasn’t. When I try to envision her being gone, the pain is too unbearable and I tear up. We were so consumed with “will she? won’t she?” today and now it is just “she’s gone.” It’s painful to look at her photos and I haven’t been able to go through her things. I understand so deeply now why mom couldn’t wear her mother’s jewelry or go through her stuff. I am ok with wearing her jewelry, but other stuff, it’s hard.

The sadness comes and goes. It’s not omnipresent, though it’s still there. I got emotional on a call with a colleague today, which is ok, but not great. All she did was ask how I was doing.

I’m in a relatively new surrounding (my house) that I still don’t feel connected to deeply yet. There are still piles of stuff and we’re slowly making our way through it, but I don’t feel at home yet. Sometimes I just want to run and hide, but there’s nowhere to run. My instinct is to pick up the phone to call my mom, and I can’t. What do you do when the person who talked you off the ledge is gone? Yes, I am fortunate to have my wonderful Ted, but there is 46 years of history that my mom knew, so I’m still getting him up to speed.

I’m starting a bereavement support group next Tuesday, and I am so relieved that I’ll have a place to talk, listen, and learn. This is all new territory for me. In the past when I’ve been depressed, I can just curl up and hide. I can’t do that now. I’ll get scolded by the kids for being absent or I’ll have to do chores, so I am trying to handle my sadness while going through the motions of life. It’s hard to fake joy right now, but I’m doing my best.

You know what’s funny? I miss seeing my dad every day. We went through something so beautiful and tragic together, and now we’re apart. We talk on the phone, and I’ll see him on Sunday, but as he said to me yesterday, we’re all still terribly grieving. And we will for a long time, I think.

I’m going to continue to try to pick up the pieces; namely the pieces of me, which feel feel pretty cracked and needing some sort of emergency crazy glue to keep me together. I was told that grief can feel very isolating, and damnit, it really does. My grief is different than others in that I lost my mom. The only person who truly can relate is my brother and my sister-in-law, as she was close to mom too. So many of you have reached out to me – and it really does help – so don’t stop but remember I may not get back to you right away, but don’t take it personally. It usually isn’t, especially if you don’t make it about you.

P.S. A very happy birthday to my dear A!