On September 7th, 2011 at approximately 10:45am, my mom took her last breath on earth. Even as I type this, I feel my chest tightening and the lump in my throat growing. It’s been less than I month since she died and there’s only been a small handful of days where I haven’t cried over it.
I think of her daily, hourly sometimes. Sometimes I think of her with fierceness like when I know she’d want for me to fight and I call on the strength she instilled in me and seemed to exude. Sometimes I think of her with sadness, mostly when I wish so badly to call and ask her advice. And a lot of time I think of her with hurt and pain because I want my mom back. I want the woman who makes up 50% of my DNA, who shaped me, nurtured me and loved me with all her heart and soul.
Mom had Hodgkins Lymphoma. I’ve spoken about this a few times. I watched her fight long and hard against the disease which stole her life. Finally, I watched her make peace with invading disease as she resigned herself to go. I also know she fought for strength when she knew we were upset and she rallied to support us. She got to go. We have to stay here and live our lives without her. What is surely going to be one of the hardest things I’ll ever have to do.
Mom was cremated and buried with my grandfather. But that’s not where she is. It’s only where her ashes are. Instead, my mom is in the living room of our house, a place she decorated with love and care. It’s where she spent most of her time, especially as she got sicker. It’s where we feel her the most. But if she’s not there, she’s out wandering her gardens. She’s making sure Dad and I tend to them with same love, care and attention she would have.
Since I cannot have mom directly, I try my damnedest to live a life she would continue to be proud of. I let the morals, ethics and values my parents raised and instilled in me guide me. I figure this is the best way to keep her close and to make her proud.
I find that there are many things I wish desperately to ask her. Things that seem inane to others, but I suddenly find very important. Like what kind of cat food does she buy? Or what’s the best way to care for some of her plants? Or where in the world is a baking pan in the kitchen? These are odd questions, but lately they seem all that much more important because I cannot ask.
I don’t know that I’ll ever stop missing her. I hope not. I do hope I stop crying at some point. Although maybe it will be a long time, but someday I hope the crying gets less. I hope I can make her proud. I hope she’s looking in on us thinking we are doing a good job. And I hope she really is as close as she feels. Because some days I swear she’s holding me close.
Actions and Reactions
Tell someone you love them. Be genuine, sincere and vocal. It will make you, and them, feel good.
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