Sunday, July 29, 2018

One Year

One year.

How can time seem fast and slow at the same time?

We have been through our firsts of everything without mom: the first holiday season, the first birthday, the first Mother's Day. And now, the first anniversary of the day she left us. They say that it gets easier with time. If that's true, then why does it still hurt so much? Why have I spent the entire day (and the days building up to today) feeling so down and in tears?

I knew it would be hard. I tried to give myself a distraction. Several months ago, we planned a family vacation for the last two weeks of July. It seemed like a good idea at the time-to get away, having family fun so that our minds don't wander back to that dark time. It helped a little, but I'm really not sure if it was a good idea or not. It did help to keep my mind busy throughout the day, but I also felt a dark cloud lingering over me the whole time. Every morning I woke up remembering what we were doing on that day one year ago; it's impossible to forget. The memories of those last two weeks replay vividly in my mind, the good and the bad; memories of hospice stepping in, of the doctor delivering painful news, memories of taking her for rides around the block in the wheelchair when she could no longer walk, memories of her looking up at me and touching my face, memories of snuggling in bed beside her warm body as she slowly slipped away. I tried to push them out of my mind, but at the same time I want to remember, I want to hold on to those last moments that I had with my mom. I don't want to forget her. And so the memories creep in, haunting me, leaving a deep ache in my chest.

We returned from our vacation last night. We wanted to be home to visit her grave on this day. I wanted to plan something special, something meaningful, for the one year mark. But, I couldn't think of what to do and it was just too depressing to think about, if I'm being honest. It isn't exactly a celebration; this is the day she died. Yet, we couldn't let the day go by without acknowledging her. We ended up keeping it simple: a visit to her grave followed by dinner at my house with a small group of family.


We had a meal that reminded us of her. Mom's spaghetti dinner has always been a favorite, so I made her delicious spaghetti sauce. Some of my early readers may remember Mom's obsession (in earlier phases) with tortellini and mixed vegetables, so Dad brought that, although we didn't use quite as much garlic as she used to. Dad also brought the root beer and we drank with straws, just how she liked. She went through a phase of salad obsession, so Aunt Sharon brought some salad. Of course, the meal would not be complete without pb&j sandwiches, so my sister-in-law, Amber, brought those. For dessert, I whipped up a batch of Mom's chocolate chip cookies, taking me back to the good ol' days when I'd walk in the door after school and inhale the sweet scent of homemade cookies awaiting me for snack. It was sweet to share a meal together-a meal Mom would have been quite pleased with-as we remembered her. By this afternoon all I really wanted to do was cancel dinner and stay curled up in my bed by myself, but I'm glad that I didn't. It helps to be surrounded by family.

I made it through the day, and I even blogged about it. I think that's a victory. My head hurts from crying and I want to go to sleep now. Sorry to sound like a Negative Nelly, but that's just keeping it real. The pain doesn't go away, even with time. You just learn how to live with it, little by little. There are good days and bad days. Some days I feel strong, some days I feel weaker than ever. This is so much harder than I ever imagined.

2 comments:

  1. I’m crying as I read this. Everything you did is so true. I want to ff to the time when I don’t cry st the drop of a hat and at the same time I don’t want to have lived that long without her. I’m sorry you’ve been without your beautiful Mom for a year.

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