missing

it has been a strange few weeks...to think that this Friday marks three weeks since my mother has passed. It is so indescribably so utterly difficult to explain the loss of someone you love. There are moments when it is simple and not troubling, almost that life is still fantastic. You stop thinking about the person and start embracing the freedom that not caregiving gives you. You relish the moments and the time that you have gained and thank God that everything is still continuing on. But then a simple trigger, a music box, a light in the mirror, making a bed a certain way and BAM, the tears flow, the memories come and the empty saddness envelopes your brain, heart, and soul. You beg for one more chance to see them, you crave the smell, your body longs just to hold them. There is no peace no satiating the pain that comes.

Yes I feel free, I am able to enjoy my children and my husband. I have less stress (althhough since mom passed, my children are continously sick with strep, flu, and who knows what else). I get more sleep and spend more time doing recreational things. But I miss those nightly visits with my mom. I miss our convos. I miss having her there.

I go to my daughter's school for Grandparents day and I see all the grandmothers wondering why my mom did not get to enjoy this special day. I try to find peace by reminding myself of the struggles my mother represented and the difficulties she created, but that only brings guilt. I should not think of my mother in such a bad way. I am a realist however and think about the wonderful personality of my mother but never want to remember a false woman. SHe was full of life, she lived in extremes. When she loved you, there was no greater feeling; but woe to the person she was angry with. She could make you an 1nch tall in less than 5 seconds with her tongue. She was not a woman you triffled with. Her passing gave us all freedom, but this freedom (like all freedom) came a such a cost. I miss her.