Today marks eight months since I've seen, talked to, or held my mom's hand. Or harassed her. Or tricked her like I was always doing. Or rolled my eyes at her when she goes on and on and on and on about something. 8 months.
At this time eight months ago, I was on my way to my mom's oncologist to have him fill out FMLA paperwork so that I didn't have to go back to work. I knew we were nearing the end, but I had no idea that mom would pass away in less than two hours.
We had already done her last rites about two hours previously. At that point, I thought we were just doing them to get them out of the way. Merely four hours after we did them, she passed away. How was I so naive to think that I could do an errand while my mom was literally on her death bed. Isn't it weird what we do in our darkest hour?
As I type this, I am watching my bouncing ball of 7.5 month old joy, Elise Kimberly. She'll never know her namesake. That bothers me. But there is nothing in the world I can do about it.
8 months. I cannot believe that it is soon to be a year. Blah. I am to young for this. And she was too.
I've endured three mothers days, three birthdays, three Christmases and countless days without my own mother since she passed away. I wish I could tell you it gets easier, but I am still waiting for the day that it will. I hope that the pain will ease as the months pass, but I know in my heart, that we will never be the same again without them in our lives. Thinking of you as you face your first Mothers Day without your beautiful Mom xxxx
ReplyDeleteI agree with everything Marie said. The pain loses its harshness, but the loss is forever. Thinking of you...
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