My sense of bewilderment at losing my mom is beginning to wane, but now I just randomly lose my shit with no apparent provocation. My siblings are going through the same thing ~ as my brother said to me it just comes out of the blue. Someone asked me the other day how I was doing, and I answered in a whisper that was more like a gentle croak, “my mom died”. Then I started to cry and and cry and cry. I fell down the other day and Anna her boyfriend jumped up to help me and thought I was hurt because I was crying. What I said was, “I’m ok, but I miss my mom”. And continued to cry.
I’m not sure why I’m so surprised by how hard this is hitting me. We are far from a religious family (as my sister said, Mom was a devout atheist), nor are we particularly sentimental. I suppose I had some idea that I’d be all pragmatic…circle of life and all that, when she passed. We didn’t speak every day, nor on a set time every Sunday. But as I said before, she was always present in my life. Day in and day out. For 58 years.
Since I wasn’t able to help dismantle her house due to my MS (which has totally flared up since she died ~ go figure), I volunteered to tackle her photo boxes. I took me weeks to build up the courage to finally open them up, but now I’m on a walk down memory lane like you can’t believe. I’m reconnecting with cousins and also finding family I wasn’t even completely aware of, and although it’s been exhausting, it’s been fun.
My mom was a beauty, that’s for sure. She had such poise and a high watt smile. I am discovering her as a child and a teenager (graduation picture in 1937!), as a wife and a mother, a friend and a musician, sometimes kooky, sometimes bemused.
I have one more box of prints to go through, and then 80 zillion slides. Egad. Missing her is hard, no doubt, but I’m witnessing a life well lived. Good on ya, Mom.